


The Prince's Secret

by InMyArmsAgain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Childbirth, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Intimacy, Mpreg, No Underage Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post - Deathly Hallows, Pregnant Sex, Pregnant Snape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secret Relationship, Snape Lives, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, hetero mpreg, semi-graphic birth, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:05:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 81
Words: 679,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InMyArmsAgain/pseuds/InMyArmsAgain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape thought his world would end with the war, but someone had other plans. Saved by a miraculous twist of fate, now the wounded warrior must carry on with what fate has dealt him. But the better life he was promised does not come. Instead, Severus is met by a society unwilling to forgive, and to his ultimate disgrace, he is sexually assaulted by a faceless psychopath. When he suddenly discovers that he is pregnant by his attacker, Severus decides he has finally hit rock bottom, and readies himself for a long, long life of misery.</p>
<p>But then a young woman comes into his life, a girl he has long known, but never truly noticed. And it is through her that Severus begins to see a glimmer of hope. Out of tragedy and unspeakable pain, he finds love in some of the most unexpected blessings. Hidden in the shadows of Hogwarts' halls, Severus finds what he always longed for, and now he must fight to keep it.</p>
<p>Mpreg! AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (Severus)

**Author's Note:**

> This story began on FF.net, and it has finally made the move to AO3. I hope that I might have the same luck and reception with a newer audience. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to the great and incomparable J.K. Rowling. I own absolutely nothing except for my original characters and their names.

* * *

 

_He remembered that night. He remembered that dark figure. He remembered that sinister – no – evil voice._

_He called him clever, and he called him faithful. But there was no feeling behind it, as if there ever was. And there was no other option to be found. His plan had to be fulfilled, and they all played their part. But to his master, it made no difference as to what would transpire. And he himself knew it would come to this._

_But why did it have to be like this?_

_He remembered the constricting ties of the master’s pet circling around his body. He remembered the intense, unexpected, undeniable fear. The fear of the end. The voice explained once again there would be no escape from this, that his purpose was to be a sacrificial lamb to conquer Dark magic. For all his loyal duties, he was still nothing._

_And then came that last, hissing command._

_He remembered the pain. In all his wretched existence, he had never felt such an excruciating, choking, burning agony. He couldn’t stop the horrific scream that escaped his throat. The snake didn’t even flinch._

_Then it let go._

_He remembered the blood; the feeling of crimson life flowing freely out of him. He felt the gruesome wound to his neck. He saw the red spatters everywhere. He felt his strength drain like water._

_He remembered falling to the floor; the cold, unforgiving floor. Yet, he remembered the warmth, that of the pool of a violently fading life. He vaguely remembered thinking that he saw someone in the darkness. And as he walked away from his dying servant, he remembered the Dark Lord’s cold, unremorseful final words to him._

_He regretted it. Regret…there was no regret, only madness._

_He remembered Potter suddenly appearing. But no matter what the young wizard thought he could do, he knew it was over. He knew this was the end. And now, in this dying moment, only one thing mattered._

_He remembered grabbing Potter, and he forced out the words that were his last command. He let his memories of her go; for the sake of their fight, and for the world, the boy had to know the truth. He held on with what little strength he had left. He held on with the last strength he had to offer. He begged for one last look, and Potter obeyed._

_Lily’s eyes…he just had to see them one last time._

_That was it. He could let go now. Now, he could die._

_He didn’t remember going limp. All he remembered was the fade to black._

_There was no great white light. There was no stairway to Heaven. There was only darkness. All he could see was the faintest of light in the distance. There were voices all around him. Some he recognized, others he did not. But everywhere, there were whispers. And all of them seemed to be pushing him to the light. As he got closer, ghostly faces faintly emerged from the black. But as he drew even closer, a figure began to appear from nothing. And suddenly, there before him…was Lily._

_Lily…his beautiful Lily! Where she had been stunning in life, she was now rightfully angelic. There were no flaws in her porcelain skin, and dark red hair softly floated around her bare shoulders. White draped over her delicate form. Her stunning emerald green eyes sparkled like stars as she smiled. But then, she slowly shook her head._

_“No Severus,” she said, her gentle, melodic voice taking on a soft echo. “This is not the end for you.”_

_“He killed me, Lily,” he softly pleaded. “He killed me, just as he killed you.”_

_“Oh no, Severus. It won’t end like this.”_

_“What?”_

_“Your life will not end like this. You are meant to go on.”_

_“Wha…what do mean?”_

_“You are meant to live your life out after these dark days. Severus, you have the chance to get everything you wanted. You can finally get what you truly deserve.”_

‘Oh, you have no idea,’ _He thought to himself, if he could even still think at all._

_“Go back to them, Severus,” Lily cooed. “I know it may not seem it, but there is love left for you. Go back, and be happy.”_

_“But Lily, I…you…how can I go back when you cannot?”_

_“It was just my time. My life was meant to end sixteen years ago. And I accept that, knowing that my boy still lives because I laid down my life for him. It was meant to be, so they say. And you, you are meant for more.”_

_“But I cannot leave you behind again, Lily…my friend…my…”_

_“You will always have our memories, no matter what happened between us. I have watched you these long years; I have seen everything you have done for Harry. Take comfort, I will be watching out for you. And you know that I will always live in my son.”_

_In the distance, a vaguely recognizable voice was shouting, as though frantically. “Oh Merlin!! He’s still alive!”_

_“But barely!” another joined in._

_“Come on, you stubborn old bastard! Don’t you dare die on us!”_

_“Go back to them,” said Lily. “Go back...be happy.” She began to fade from sight. “Oh, and tell Harry that James and I love him.”_

_And with that, all went black and silent._

_He remembered his eyes being forced open. The world was all blurry and out of focus. He heard panicked voices all around him. Wait…some of those voices sounded familiar. Now he could vaguely make out the form of Poppy Pomfrey hovering over him, along with a number of faceless no-ones. He could hear the frantic voices of children somewhere nearby. Where the hell was he?_

_“Hold on, hold on...he’s back! He’s back!” he heard one of them say._

_“Sir! We’ve got him!” he heard Poppy shout. Who was she talking to?_

_“Oh thank Merlin!” a voice came. “I thought we lost him.”_

_“But he’s still unstable!” Poppy came again. “We have to work fast! We can’t let him slip away again.”_

_They all sounded astonished. Even he himself was shocked and astounded by the same fact that had them all frantic._

_He was alive._

* * *

 

Severus Snape’s eyes shot open. He slowly sat up in bed. He looked around the room and saw that he was in the bedroom of his small home on Spinner’s End. A light sweat glazed over his forehead. He had been plagued by that dream for quite some time now, each time just as disturbing as the last. He had relived that dark and violent night in May over and over again on at least a weekly basis, every detail still fresh in his jaded memory. And each time, when he woke up like this, he could think of nothing but the same thing.

He still lived. He came back from the very brink of death. He didn’t know how. He didn’t know what had really happened to him, but something saved him. For lack of a better word, it was a miracle. But Severus also remembered everything that happened after the point where he woke up, and some of it made him wish that he had died.

**_~Flashback~_ **

_Once he had returned to consciousness, Severus realized that he was no longer in the Shrieking Shack. It was too bright, and there were too many voices for that famously small space. At the time however, he could not have cared less._

_He was correct in his fuzzy identification of Poppy Pomfrey. But he couldn’t recognize the other two male figures above him. Together, the three of them were racing around him with different instruments, tools, and bottles._

_“Alright, we’ve got him!” one of the two wizards shouted to Poppy._

_“Quick, the potion!” she shouted back._

_A bottle was forced into his mouth, and he recognized the taste of the extremely powerful Life-rejuvenating Potion. He felt a tingling sensation move all through his body before euphoria. He suddenly felt the air come painfully rushing back into his lungs._

_“He’s breathing!”_

_“Severus, say something!” All he could get out was a weak, almost gutted moan._

_“That’s good enough!” the second anonymous man shouted. “We need to give him the Blood-replenishing Potion.”_

_“We can’t!” Poppy rushed. “We have to heal that wound as much as we can. Then we have to flush out the snake’s poison before it worsens the bleeding.”_

_“Will you be able to do that?” another voice, a younger female voice, asked._

_“Oh, we’ll be able to,” a man said. “But it’s not going to be easy, and it certainly won’t be pleasant.”_

_“And we have to work fast!” Poppy clucked angrily. “He’s already lost so much blood! It’s a wonder that he’s even breathing!”_

_Severus felt an awful pressure and pain as their gloved hands pushed and pressed against the gruesome gash in his neck. His ferocious healers seemed to have no clue that he could actually feel what they were trying to do, and his inability to scream was worse than torture.  Once the wound was crudely, yet effectively patched up, another bottle was forced into his mouth. But this potion, unknown to the struggling Potions master, burned all the way down his throat, possibly one of the most unpleasant brews Severus ever had the misfortune to swallow._

_“Will that potion stop the venom’s effects? Will it help the wound heal?” The young female voice once again asked, almost a squeak._

_“Yes dear, it will work to flush the poison out of his blood and reverse its effects,” Poppy explained in a stern voice. “But this antidote is extremely powerful! So powerful, his body will eventually reject it. But only after it has done its job.” She turned to her companions. “We need to turn him on his side!”_

_Severus felt two sets of strong hands get under his body and tilt him over onto his right side, holding him in place. While it was true that his mind was not at its full working capacity, he should have known what all of this meant. What had he just swallowed, how was his body going to reject it, and how much more painful would it be? He however did not have to wait very long, and he got his answer when the burning of the potion that flowed through his veins suddenly rushed back to his stomach._

_It had been a long time since Severus had last vomited. He couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been. It could have easily been years! However long it was, it was long enough for Severus to forget just how horrible it was. The sickening nausea, the harsh burning in his throat, and the violent trembling throughout his body. None of it he could control. Oh, the lack of control! It had always bothered Severus so much in the past, and even while fighting for his life, it still bothered him._

_What was he doing pondering his situation?!_

_As his stomach continued to revolt, gasping for air between retches, Severus felt a firm, yet comforting hand grasp his shoulder. “Oh dear, this is the worst part. Easy does it, we’ve got you.” Alright, that voice was definitely familiar._

_The retching became dry heaves and Severus was laid back onto his back. Then one last potion was forced down his throat. This he recognized as the strongest Blood-rejuvenating Potion available to wizard kind. He must be at St. Mungo’s. That was the only place in Britain where that potion would be readily at hand._

_The world slowly came back into focus and Severus finally got a look at his surroundings. He was somewhat shocked to see that he was not at St. Mungo’s. He was lying on a bed in the partially destroyed hospital wing at Hogwarts. Just outside of the screen that surrounded his bed, Severus could hear the sounds of frantic voices and children crying. A bright ray of sunlight shined through the huge windows. How long had he been there?_

_Poppy stood to the left of his bed, gently wiping his forehead with a moist cloth. She was careful to avoid his sensitive neck. Severus glanced to his right. The two men who had also fought so hard to revive him turned out to be two of the finest Mediwizards that St. Mungo’s had to offer, both Flooed in to assist with those injured in the great battle. They were watching him intently as they tossed aside the bloodstained cloths that they held. Once they saw that he was stable, they sighed with relief and nodded to Poppy. Then they walked out through the screen to help the numerous Mediwitches tend to the children._

_Severus felt that there was a presence standing just to his right side, but he couldn’t gather up the strength to look up. Instead, he let his head sink into the pillow as his eyes shut. He heard Poppy speak. “He needs to rest now. We can move him into one of the private rooms. He should be away from the children for now.”_

_“Oh yes, of course. After all that, the poor boy deserves to get some peace and quiet.”_

_And with that, Severus fell into such a deep sleep that one would have thought that someone had slipped him the Draught of the Living Dead._

_When Severus opened his eyes again, there was far less light than there had been before. He slowly looked around. He saw that he was now in one of the smaller private rooms at the far end of the hospital wing. He looked to the window and saw that a moonless night had fallen. The darkness in the room was broken by an oil lamp on the night stand and a few solitary candles. He was propped up by several pillows and his head rested comfortably. His body ached atrociously and he still felt a bit sick from the various potions that had been poured down his throat. He felt the bandages that had now been properly dressed to his wounded neck. It still hurt to breathe. He let out a soft moan._

_“Oh Severus! Thank goodness, you’re awake! You gave us quite a scare before. We thought we lost you for a moment there. But oh, my boy! You’re still with us, such a happy miracle!”_

_Severus struggled to turn his head to his right in the direction of the voice. It was the same gentle voice that had conversed with Poppy before. He felt a hand gently brush stray locks of hair away from his face. Even though his vision was still glazed over and blurry, Severus didn’t doubt for even a moment about who it was, especially when his exhausted gaze caught sight of a snow white beard and an oh-too-familiar pair of half-moon glasses._

_“A…Albus” he managed to whisper._

_“Shhh…”Severus felt a warm hand caress his face. “Just rest, my dear boy. It’s alright, Severus. It’s all over now. Lord Voldemort is dead. The war is over, you are safe now. You can rest peacefully. Everything will be better now…I promise you_.”

**_~End Flashback~_ **

Still shaken up, Severus slowly got out of bed and made his way down the stairs. It was unbearably hot that summer night and he was in desperate need of water. Carefully stepping through his pitch black sitting room, he found the door to his kitchen and pushed it open. Flipping the light switch on, he opened up a cabinet, not even bothering with a Summoning Charm to easily find what he was looking for. He fumbled around for a moment before finally grabbing hold of the glass that he knew was back there. Sighing to himself, Severus filled the glass with water and sat down at the table. Again, he sighed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

It had been nearly four months since that night in May, and what Dumbledore – quite alive – had said was true. The war was over. The unstoppable evil that was Lord Voldemort had finally been defeated by Harry Potter, just as it was meant to be. The Boy-who-lived, now very much a man, would go down in history. He was forever to be known by all wizard kind for not only surviving the Dark Lord’s deadly curse not once but twice, but for finally bringing him down once and for all. To Severus, the very idea of Potter’s lasting fame was just sickening. But what made it worse was the nauseating truth that if it hadn’t been for Potter, he wouldn’t be there now. If the boy hadn’t been there in the Shrieking Shack, no one would have known that Severus was even there, let alone nearly dead on the floor. No one would have come to collect his lifeless body only to realize that he was still alive.

He would have died that night if it hadn’t been for Harry bloody Potter.

_‘Oh well,’_ Severus thought. He had saved the boy enough times over the last eight or so years. He could call himself and the brat even. When he had mentioned this to Dumbledore after he had recovered enough from his injuries, the thought-dead headmaster agreed with a rather hearty chuckle.

Dumbledore…promised him…promised him indeed. If the old headmaster had really meant that, then Severus was still waiting for his promise to be fulfilled.

It wasn’t just the horrendous pain and atrocious sickness that followed his return to consciousness that made Severus wish he had died. Dumbledore had said that everything would be easier and more peaceful. But his life in the weeks following the Dark Lord’s defeat was anything but peaceful.

**~HP~**

Severus was confined to the hospital wing for several weeks after the great battle. He didn’t even have the strength to get out of bed for a full week and a half. And that was followed by another three weeks of being fussed over by a harried Madam Pomfrey and a meddling Dumbledore. It was almost June by the time the Mediwitch deemed him healed up enough to return to Spinner’s End for some much needed time alone.

Unfortunately for Severus, that wasn’t about to happen.

No more than two days after he returned home, the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived on his doorstep along with two Aurors. In his hand was a warrant for his immediate arrest on charges of treason against the Ministry and murder.

Why did Dumbledore have to remain in hiding?! After all, Severus _did not_ actually kill him! All Severus really was was the key role in the play that was an incredibly thought out and painfully detailed plan of Dumbledore’s that only he knew even the slightest thing about. Severus could have been spared the charges if Dumbledore would just show his face. He could get him out of this mess and everyone could leave him the hell alone, which was really all that Severus really wanted.

He was immediately taken to Azkaban to await trial.

Never had Severus known any place so close to hell. He could now completely understand the tales of madness that came out that place. How could you keep your mind in these conditions?

He was confined to his dark, dank cell for all hours of the day. These hours were spent keeping his back to the door, listening to the endless hours of the taunting and the insults echoing from down the corridors. Obviously, nearly all the inmates had known what he had done and why he was there. And apparently, they were not going to let Snape just sit there and wait for his trial. Realizing that many of these voices belonged to people he had encountered before, he had a few choice words of his own for them. But Severus could not let himself sink to that level, not if he wanted to keep the last shreds of dignity that he had. With Death Eaters and accomplices being brought in every day, Severus had to be the one prisoner that kept himself together. Besides, it wasn’t like Severus was incapable of staying silent for hours at a time.

Severus was only incarcerated for a week, but it might as well have been a lifetime. It didn’t matter that the dark shadows of the Dementors had since gone for good, just being there was torture. But of all the things that could have been used against him, of all the things that could have sped up his eventual decent into madness, it was being forced to listen to the screaming. It came from every corner, crack, nook and cranny of the fortress. Hundreds of years of pain, suffering, and insanity. The wailings and screeching, ranging from cries for help to just nonsense, added a terrifying chill to the already heavy atmosphere. The whole damn place reeked of death. Severus even found himself feeling as though someone’s life had abruptly ended in his own cell. Was that really where you ended up after a while? Did being imprisoned become so unbearable that the only solution was suicide?

For the first time since he had been arrested, Severus began to panic about the possibility of spending the rest of his life in the wizard prison. If he had bled to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, at least it would have been with honor. And Lily had said that he was supposed to live out the rest of his life. Severus seriously doubted that she meant it to be in prison.

Death Eater trials began almost instantly after the war ended, and to Severus, it was all clock work. They were rounded up, tried, and sentenced usually within a week. But the disturbing thing that Severus began to realize was that far too few of these trials ended in a conclusion of innocence. Nearly all the people who were suspected to having any connections with Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were sentenced to time in Azkaban, some shorter than others. And Severus didn’t even think it was necessary to try the Death Eaters themselves. They did everything that the world accused them of, and they made no secret about it. These people were terrorists and they were proud of it. In many opinions, these trials were just reconfirmations of past confessions. Some people were saying that the scars that they all now bore on their left arms should be an automatic life sentence. But true to nature, the Ministry did not take this suggestion and went through with the pointless trials to give all fair justice. But this didn’t exactly make Severus feel any better about his own situation. It seemed that the term “fair trial” was a very loose term in the Ministry. After all, these were the same people who at one time listened to Cornelius Fudge and the tyrannical monster that was Dolores Umbridge. Somehow, he had a feeling that more than a few people had been waiting for an opportunity to lock him up for life.

It was a stormy day in June when Severus was transported to London to attend his hearing. This being one of, if not the most high profile case of the bunch, Severus was heavily guarded by the same Aurors that had arrested him. The Ministry was also strangely quiet that particular morning. He was led to the Department of Mysteries in silence. He could hear muffled conversation as he entered the Wizengamot Chamber. But as soon as he was within the court’s view, it died down. He was magically bound to his chair as he sat down, and he looked up at his peers.

For the next half hour, Severus was asked a series of questions by the court officials and the Minister of Magic himself, ranging from what he had done in years past to his actions during the war. But more than anything, he was interrogated about what drove him to kill Albus Dumbledore. Was is by order of You-know-who or was it premeditated? And if it was premeditated, what did the former professor have against the old man? Severus tried to answer all the questions as best he could, but he still couldn’t tell them what he really knew. He couldn’t say that Dumbledore was alive and well and hiding in Scotland, not while he was still under oath to protect that secret. As time went by, Severus’s fears slowly became a reality. He realized that with every question, every answer, he was fighting a losing battle. As far as the court was concerned, not only was he a cold-blooded killer, but he was also a convicted Death Eater getting his long awaited justice. Severus felt his heart sink into his stomach when Shacklebolt addressed the court, ready to take an immediate, unanimous vote.

Naturally, _that’s_ when Dumbledore decided it was time to come out of hiding, suddenly bursting into the hearing to save Severus’s arse like he had done for Potter before him. Of course, having all thought that the headmaster was dead, every single witch and wizard of the Wizengamot was utterly speechless. Incoherent mumbling filled the room, though that rather quickly grew into a mass of unhindered profanities from people who looked like they had never heard such words in their lives. Oh, Shacklebolt’s was the best!

“But…but…but I was at your funeral!”

Dumbledore proceeded to ramble on for quite a long while, telling his entire story and his entire plan on behalf of Severus. The Wizengamot, Minister included, listened so intently that it was as though there wasn't a convicted Death Eater in the room. There wasn't one person in that chamber who didn't believe a minute or a word of what was going on. Albus Dumbledore was alive! He was standing before them all! And what was even more amazing was this absolutely brilliant plan of his. It made complete sense to everyone that his death would be a tool to bring down the Dark lord by giving him false security. And it worked!

Suddenly, everything that Snape had done fell into place. But still, they wanted to hear what Snape had to say about this. Was this the truth, or was this some elaborate illusion concocted beforehand? It was then that Shacklebolt called for Veritasserum. A tiny phial filled with a rather potent form of the truth serum was brought forward and Severus didn't fight anything as the potion was poured down his throat. Once the potion had taken effect, he turned back to Minister Shacklebolt.

He answered each question with a short yes or now. With each reply, the story further unfurled in the openness of the chamber. And not once did he hold back, never slipping into the protection Occlumency offered. Slowly but surely, the evident truth was reaffirmed.

During his final interrogation, the whole of the chamber held their collective breath as Dumbledore watched. What they had was a confession, a confession of innocence. Under the most powerful Veritasserum, they confirmed the tall tale Dumbledore had spun for them. It all made perfect sense! The man did everything under orders, under Dumbledore’s orders. And in the end, it was all for the better. They couldn’t send him back to Azkaban with such solid evidence in his favor.

Severus, also stunned and speechless, could only sit and watch as the committee voted and all the charges against him, however reluctantly, were dropped. He was free.

Severus had the foolish thought that he could be left alone now that he wasn’t going back to prison. _Oh no!_ Not after the _Daily Prophet_ (not to mention every other publication in the British Wizarding community) got wind of Albus’s return from the dead. His face was suddenly everywhere. Everyone was talking about him, retelling his story. Some may have actually forgotten about Potter for a split second. But what truly bothered Severus was that people were suddenly searching for him too. Once his name was mentioned in the _Prophet’s_ interview with Dumbledore, everyonewanted to know what he had to say. The Death Eater trials were covered enough already, his being one of the most talked about. But to some, he was now a war hero.

Thank Merlin that Dumbledore made a plea to the public for Severus’s complete privacy following such a trying time in his life. The reasoning was that even though Severus had such a major part in Voldemort’s defeat, it was at _great personal cost!_ The man had nearly died, for crying out loud! The elderly headmaster voiced his concerns about the younger wizard saying that he felt that Severus had every right to be left alone after his years-long ordeal. A time may come when Severus felt that he was ready to tell his story, and until then, the media should try their best to not be the media.

Severus did notice that the people seemed to heed Dumbledore’s advice. Reporters and letters disappeared after a few days. In fact, it was rather entertaining for Severus to pull his arm chair up to the tiny front window of his house and just watch the few stragglers still trying to get a story being dragged off by their more sensible colleagues. Dumbledore was right to say that there might come a point in Severus’s life when he would talk. But that day wasn’t going to come for a very long time. He was glad that by July, people generally weren’t as interested in him anymore. Most of them were off chasing Potter again. He did still get the occasional owl from Luna Lovegood asking if he was interested in an exclusive interview with the _Quibbler_ , all of which he politely refused. It was now late August and up to that very night in his kitchen, Severus had never publically spoken about his life and involvement with the war. And for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

**~HP~**

After he set the now empty glass down in the sink and shut the lights off, Severus made his way back up the stairs to his shadow filled bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he collapsed back down onto the bed. Even though the bedside clock showed that it was three thirty in the morning, Severus just couldn’t fall back to sleep. There was just too much on his mind. The sad part about it was this was to be the third time that week that he had woken in the early hours and would just lie there until dawn.

Desperately trying to prevent this again, Severus tried to put all thought out of his head. He couldn’t let his mind wander to Dumbledore, to that night in May…to Lily. Oh Lily! He could not let his mind dwell on her face, her voice, her eyes. Not again. Severus rolled over onto his side and shut his eyes. What seemed like an eternity passed before he finally succumbed to sleep again, hoping to fall into a dream that he wouldn’t mull over in the morning. What he got was a dream that was not just disturbing to him, it was horrifying! This was not a dream to him, it was a nightmare.

 

* * *

 

_Diagon Alley had always seemed more pleasant at night. The darkness was broken by only a few candle lamps at each door. The noise was replaced by the gentle hooting of owls. And a person had the freedom to walk the streets without pushing their way through people and packages._

_Severus had always preferred to visit Diagon Alley at night. It gave him the opportunity to get things done without the stares of annoying bystanders, many of whom he had actually taught by now. This was only enhanced in the weeks following Lord Voldemort’s defeat and the days since his Ministry pardon. In fact, it was almost impossible for him to venture out in public without a whole mess of people glancing over their shoulder. At night, the only people he had to deal with were the shopkeepers, and that only involved the bare minimum of interaction._

_On this particular night, Severus had ventured out much later than he would have preferred. It was early August, and Severus wanted to avoid the rush of people that he knew would dominate the alley during the day. He had a peculiar feeling that those crowds would linger into the twilight hours. Severus had never liked people in the past, and regardless of what he had been through, he certainly wasn’t going to start now. All he wanted was to just go about his business without passing a single venomous stare or hearing an echoing insult on the wind. Even if the end of the war had brought him high regard, there were still many beliefs that could not be broken, and Severus liked to avoid it when he could. The cover of darkness was perfect._

_Tucking his shrunken packages into his pocket, Severus made his way up the street. The lights in nearly all the shops were now out and there wasn’t a trace of human life around. Severus reveled in this bliss before he would arrive at the empty Leaky Cauldron and its unguarded fireplace. But just as he passed the dark, eerie archway that led down into Knockturn Alley, his steps slowed until he came to an untimely stop. He turned and looked down the dark street. He had been struck by a strong, but not unfamiliar sensation._

_He felt like he was being watched. He also had a feeling that whomever it was, they were lurking somewhere in the inky blackness of the descending street that led into the world of Dark magic. All he could see was darkness, broken only by a few dim lanterns that hung outside doors. Like its sister street, Knockturn Alley was silent and devoid of life. But even if it appeared that he was alone, Severus just couldn’t ignore his own intuition. He was too used to the feeling of danger. He hadn’t felt this way since Voldemort was alive. And experience told Severus that such feelings could not be ignored. He turned to back away._

_He heard something move behind him. But before he could reach into his robes for his waiting wand, Severus heard a sickening crack. An intense, throbbing pain consumed his head. He felt sick. He felt dizzy. The world went fuzzy. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was the weight of his own body hitting the cobblestones with a heavy ‘_ thud _’._

_When Severus came to, it took a long moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His head was throbbing with pain, but he managed to lift it up off the filthy ground to get a glimpse of his surroundings. Brick walls surrounded him on three sides. A narrow street separated him and yet another wall. The lantern that hung from it held nothing more than a smoking stump, the waxy remains of what used to be a candle. Somewhere, he could hear the screeching howl of a cat. The air was close._

_He was down Knockturn Alley, very far down._

_Severus looked down at his hands and saw that they were covered in scrapes and cuts, which stung with every breath that reached them. He realized that the same sting was also coming from the sides of his face. Someone had dragged him down there, but where the hell were they? As he struggled to get up, he instinctively reached for his wand. But to his shock, all he could feel was the course fabric of his robes._

_“Looking for this?” A voice came from behind him. Before Severus could turn around, he saw his wand fall onto the stone before him with a light ‘clink’. He crawled forward, reaching for it. He was mere millimeters away; he could almost feel it at his fingertips. But before he could grasp it, out of nowhere, a heavy boot stomped down onto his hand. He felt stabbing pain as he heard bones break under the tremendous force. A hand came down and picked up Severus’s wand. It was then that Severus looked up._

_His attacker was clad in long dark robes. The length of his clothes stopped mid-calf, exposing the black boots that were currently crushing Severus’s hand. His closely cut sleeves reached his wrists and on his hands were leather gloves. The hood of his cloak was up over his head, concealing his face. He fingered the pilfered wand in a slow, yet poised manner._

_“What…who…”_

_“_ Silencio! _” the shrouded wizard hissed._

_Severus tried to protest, but realized with quiet horror that he now couldn’t speak. Panicking, he grasped his throat with his free hand. He tried to move back, but he was still pinned down by unrelenting pressure of the other man’s foot. His heel dug into pale skin. Trying to growl even though nothing came out of his mouth, Severus managed to pull his hand free. His assailant lashed out and kicked him in the face. The pain was quick and sharp. Severus finally forced himself to his feet and faced his opponent. He didn’t care that his hand was pulsating and his nose was probably broken. This guy meant business and Snape wasn’t going to take it lying down. He stared down with the man, his bloody nose adding a sort of strength to his death glare. He tasted his own blood as it ran down his lips. The other man cocked his head under his hood, and he slowly walked toward Severus. Severus just waited. He might have been wand-less, but he wasn’t defenseless_

_Once the dark wizard was within reach, aiming Severus’s wand at its owner, Severus swung his injured hand and socked him square in the jaw. The pain from the hit was enough to make him heave, but he swallowed hard when he saw that his wand had gone flying again. His attacker briefly stunned, Severus made a mad dash for his wand, which was lying in the street. He could fight back, he thought, but this was obviously a planned attack, and he had no way of knowing what this assailant was ready to do. Not bothering to stow away his wand, Severus turned to run down the street. His were driving him back up to Diagon, where at least there could be witnesses to this unprovoked violence. He had to get out of there before…_

*Bam*

_He fell to the ground, face first. His legs had locked together mid-stride. Severus looked back to the alley and saw that the hooded man now wielded his own wand. Another flick and Severus felt himself being dragged backwards. His panic increased as he watched his surroundings being closed in by brick walls once again. The wizard swung his wand violently. Severus was thrown against the wall with incredible force. He felt as though some invisible hands were dangling him by his neck. His legs flailed and breathing was difficult. But still no noise came from his mouth. He couldn’t cry out for help. Yes, he admitted that he needed help. As clever as Severus was, he could not overpower this man._

_The wizard’s wand fell to his side, with Severus falling to his knees along with it. He casually tucked his wand into his belt, but he was by no means finished. Without a word or even sighing – in fact, his crooked mouth almost looked giddy under the cloak – he clenched his fists and just went to town on Severus. This man could have been taken for a Muggle boxer by the force and strength of the punches and hits that were pounding into Severus’s face, head, and neck. Severus fell forward, his assailant stepping to the side. Once he was back down on the ground, those heavy boots went to work on Severus’s stomach and chest. His breath was stolen away with each blow. He felt ribs crack and he was sure that he had internal bleeding. The beatings ceased and Severus coughed as he fought to breathe again. He looked up at the dark wizard and raised his wand to attack back._

_“_ Expelliarmus! _”_

_Severus’s wand flew from his reach, hit the wall, fell to the ground, and rolled into the street. Severus watched the black boots walk around him until they came to a stop some five feet from his head. “Now to take care of you…” Did he mean to say that he hadn’t already? He took hold of his wand again and upon pointing it at Severus, the latter’s arms were magically bound behind his back, as though invisible ropes were restraining him. His agony-filled face looked up at the hood and saw a vicious sneer._

_“Oh, you poor dear!” the dark figure taunted from beneath his shroud. “It can’t hurt that badly. Come now, a wizard such as yourself, former servant of the Dark lord…oh wait. You never were his servant, were you?” Severus tasted his boot again. “Despicable! One of the Dark lord’s most loyal Death Eaters and you turn out to be Dumbledore’s spy. In the same boat as Harry fucking Potter! A war hero! You just make me sick…bloody traitor.” He pointed his wand. “_ Crucio! _”_

_The worst pain and anguish yet engulfed Severus’s whole body. No matter how many times you fell victim to the Unforgivable Curse, you could never stand the torment. Severus twitched and shook, powerful surges of magic coursing through him like thousands of volts of electricity, burning his insides and crushing his bones to dust. Inside his head, Severus was screaming, just dying to be heard._

_The wizard released his hold on Severus, letting his wand hand ease back to his side. But his grip on the dark wood didn’t let up. Remarkably, considering that he still didn’t have any use of his arms or legs, Severus managed to roll onto his back. He gasped as he was finally able to breathe. He was brought back down to earth by a hard jab in the side. A swish and flick, and Severus was back on his stomach._

_“It’s all your fault, you know,” the cloaked man whispered. “Everything that Lord Voldemort worked for will never be so…all because of you. Think about it, Snape! A world where pure wizards reigned supreme. Half-bloods would fall down before us, and Mud-bloods would cease to exist. Muggles would know of our world and fear it, powerless when faced with our superiority. The Dark Lord would have gone down as the most powerful being to ever walk the earth. His Death Eaters would have been gods among mortals! We could have had it all! And you betray us!”_

‘The Dark Lord was a madman and you know it,’ _Severus’s inner voice cried out._ ‘He cursed us as often as he did anyone else.’

_The dark wizard continued. “What? Did it all get to be too much for you? Did the coward run to Dumbledore for protection?” Severus wriggled on the ground at the mention of the word ‘coward’. The man sneered in such a vial and evil little way that it made Severus’s skin crawl. “And to think; all those years ago, you were the one who tipped off the Dark Lord about Potter’s prophesy. You end up helping the damn brat! How many times you could have killed him, and you were protecting him! The Dark Lord spoke of you like you were his most loyal servant. You were giving that old codger ideas, weren’t you? The Dark Lord’s demise could have been more of your doing than Potter’s.”_

_Severus watched as the boots slowly walked around him, towards his feet, until they were out of his view. The low, dangerous voice continued its threatening rant. “The world could have been changed for the better, if not for you. Lord Voldemort could have revolutionized the Wizarding community, and he was destroyed before his plan could be seen for what it was. If you ask me, it wasn’t because of Potter. It was because of you._ Crucio! _”_

_It was several excruciatingly long minutes before the bone-racking torture let up and the hissing voice went on still. “If you hadn’t been helping Dumbledore, Potter, and their band of simpleton twats, we would have succeeded. Potter didn’t stand a chance without the information that you so graciously fed to him. Severus Snape the war hero is nothing more than a slithering, back-stabbing coward. Scum off the bottom of my boot!”_

_“You know that you deserve all of this. A crime such as yours is worthy of extreme punishment. So if no one else will, then I will have to do it myself. I could kill you, you know, and I probably should. But I have far too much to lose to risk a lifetime in Azkaban. However, that doesn’t mean that I can’t give you a hell you’ve never known.”_

_There was the swishing sound of a wand on the air. Severus braced himself for another bout of Cruciatus. But instead, he heard what sounded like cloth ripping and then felt an incredibly disturbing draft. His robes had been pushed away and his trousers had been torn off. Behind him, he heard further rustling of clothing. Exposed and breathless with panic, Severus looked behind him and saw that his attacker had gone to work on his own garments. He had already unbuckled his belt and opened his outer robe. Severus watched with wide, horrified eyes as he undid his trousers. Even in the shadows, his manhood was still absurdly visible and, not to mention, aroused. Severus fought fiercely against his magical restraints, not giving into the thought of being paralyzed by his fear…yes, fear. Severus wasn’t naive. He knew what this guy was intending to do to him. At the moment, it could have been enough to drive him into madness._

_He felt the shrouded man’s knee on his back, pinning him down. A strong hand gripped the back of his head and slammed it down onto the ground. Severus prayed that he didn’t lose any teeth on that one. The other wizard put all of his weight onto Severus, solidifying that he wasn’t going anywhere until he was through with him. “I hope you realize that you have left me with no other choice,” he growled, positioning his other hand on Severus’s lower back to support himself. “Let’s just say that I’m the only one of us to see this as a suitable price to pay. But believe me, Snape. You’re getting what you had coming to you, you useless bastard!”_

_He impaled Severus with incredible force. The sheer strength and the intense pain that came with it stole Severus’s breath away. Desperate gasps escaped with every athletic thrust of his deranged attacker. He clenched his fists with enough strength to draw blood. To his shame, despite his ordeal, Severus felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes, burning his skin as they ran down his face onto the cold stone ground. If he had been able to make a sound, his rapist might have been able to enjoy hearing his racking sobs._

_On and on and on this torture went. More than once, the thought that this would never end raced through Severus’s head. The only thing that made it worse was listening to the aggravated grunting of that psychotic monster. Occasionally, such as with a particularly strong force, Severus’s head would be yanked up by his hair and slammed back down. Again and again and again for what felt like hours._

_Finally, the still shrouded man pulled out and got to his feet. Fixing his trousers and seeing to his robes, he sneered under his hood. “Hmm, maybe you’re not as useless as I thought,” he said with malicious mockery. Severus’s bloodshot eyes looked up at the wicked smile that was still visible under that hood. The dark wizard tidied himself a bit before he pulled out his wand again._

_“_ Finite Incantatem! _”_

_Severus felt his suddenly clothed legs unlock and his hands fell to the ground. He groaned, discovering that his voice box was functioning again. He brought his hands up towards his head, glancing at the bleeding gashes he had inflicted on himself. His face contorted; his entire body ached. This pain was just unnatural. The air was rank with the smell of the fresh blood that dribbled across the cobblestones. And just to add insult to injury, quite literally, his assailant hawked and spat at Severus’s tearstained face._

_“You had best watch your back, Snape.” This was said with a very distinct snarl. He hurled one last violent kick at Severus’s face. “Enjoy your glory…while it lasts.” And with that, the black leather boots walked out of the alley and the black figure disappeared into the shadows. Severus listened to the clicking of heels and the swishing of robes until they disappeared into the silence._

* * *

 

Severus was nearly blinded by sunlight as he sat up in bed in a cold sweat. He gasped for air, fighting against the knot in his throat. Shivers ran up and down his spine and he shook despite the heat of the morning. Just the images flashing through his mind were enough to make him feel nauseous. It was rare for him to be so disturbed by a single memory that he would work himself into somewhat of a panic attack. He pressed both hands against his face and over his eyes. He could not let himself lose his composure, not again.  But within minutes, Severus gave up on his own battle of wills. Why should he care if he cried in his own home? He was alone.

Three weeks…three weeks it had been since Severus had been violated so brutally. And like many rape victims before him, it was impossible for that whole incident to transpire without having a drastic effect on Severus. It was easier thinking back on the battle in May than on that night. At least he could tolerate that dream-time de-ja-vu. It was almost hard for Severus himself to believe how unnerved he was. But still, of all the things that Lord Voldemort had forced him to endure for all those years, nothing compared to that one sickening deed. Never had he been mistreated in such an unspeakable way.

The assault only made daily life harder. It started with the pain. The act was excruciating in itself. And Severus didn’t exactly help his injured body by eventually picking himself off the ground, limping all the way back up and out of Knockturn Alley, nearly collapsing upon arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, and then actually collapsing after stumbling through Dumbledore’s office fireplace at Hogwarts. While he had been able to get quick and effective aid from the headmaster and Poppy Pomfrey, the pain still continued for quite some time afterward. For days, his entire body ached for all it was worth. But whether this was actual recovery pain or just chronic aches that Severus’s mind created was anyone’s guess. Even when that was over with, a dull soreness remained where the horrendous bruises would surely form. And if that wasn’t bad enough in itself, the headaches and the nausea they caused certainly helped it along.

Then there was the isolation. In the long weeks since the rape, burdened by anxiety and disgrace, Severus had only left his house three times. If the jaded wizard hated venturing into public before, that was nothing compared to now. Now, he could barely stand the thought. There were too many prying eyes, a chance for something like that to happen again. If there was one psychopath with the gall to do that, who was to say that there wasn’t another? If you had to ask Severus, which was the willing task of one Albus Dumbledore, it was safer for the time being to stay held up at home. The only times he did take that risk and go out into the world (albeit the Muggle world) was when his situation was rather dire. After all, a man has to eat. But this had been his post-war life; hours and hours he wasted on the painful memory of his attack, thinking about it over and over with no one there to snap him out of it.

Because of this, one of the worst things for Severus was the dreadful fight within himself that plagued his mind each day. It was a good idea to keep himself away from the world. Then, at least, the world wouldn’t be able to see him in such an emotional turmoil. He had put on a brave face for folks like Dumbledore and Pomfrey. Alright, he had put on an annoyed face for them. But they didn’t know the half of it.

Could there have been a more emasculating experience? Could there have been something to make him feel worse? It was unbelievable. Thirty-eight years of unfortunate events and pitiful circumstances had left him with enough reason for self-hating woe. And one outlandish attack had outdone it all. Severus had never felt lower than in his self-imposed solitude. He was unbearably humiliated; it was as though he was at the hands of James Potter once again. But at least Potter wasn’t so inbred to think of something like using sex as a weapon. He was angry; not at his attacker, but at himself. He should have been able to stop him. He should have been able to defend himself, and he ended up bound on the ground with no trousers. For God’s sake, why didn’t he put up more of a fight? Several of the bruises Severus bore on his knuckles were his own doing, as was the fist-sized dent in the wall.

But above all else, there was the utter shame. It was the shame that kept him away from the world. It was the shame that created the lie about what happened that night, that he had been beaten to a bloody mess and nothing more. And it was the shame that brought such misery every time Severus looked into a mirror. Time and time again, Severus couldn’t help but wonder if this dark wizard was right. Did he truly deserve what he got? Was he really so worthless that this man would think of doing that to him? Even if he had spoken to someone of the assault, nothing would have been able to change Severus’s mind. He had hit rock bottom in his lifelong self-loathing. He had turned away letters from Dumbledore inviting him to quiet tea. He couldn’t comprehend the idea of facing the old headmaster and his ability to see that you bore a heavy heart. Dumbledore already knew way more about him than Severus would have liked. Who knew how he would look at the Potions master after hearing that. Severus couldn’t even look at himself without a hard knot forming in his throat, especially when he caught sight of those bruises on his arms, legs, and lower body. Even though it was August, Severus had kept himself covered up for his own sake. If he could ever describe himself as a martyr these days, it was when he was forced to look himself over when he bathed.

If he really had seen Lily that night in May, and if she had truly meant that his life was worth living, surely she didn’t mean a life like this.

**~HP~**

Severus was very slow to get out of bed that morning. In fact, it was nearly midmorning by the time Severus did haul himself to his feet. But this was only after he had calmed himself down. Not to mention that he had sweated himself into a puddle and was in rather desperate need of a shower. He slowly walked down the hall from his bedroom to the tiny bathroom, stripping off his damp clothes once the door was closed. Severus then spent a good half hour in the shower, which was really more for dunking his head under the cool water than for actual hygiene. He emerged in a gray dressing gown, cooled off and refreshed. He decided to bypass dressing for now, instead choosing to head downstairs.

The sun poured in through the windows of the little house in a way that was only possible in the morning. The outside world was also quiet, aside from the persistent chirping of the sparrows and magpies. Severus took pleasure in the relative silence. After such a rough night, all he wanted was a calm, relaxing day. Who knew? Maybe tonight would be the same.

He put on a kettle of water for tea, careful to avoid the burner that had stopped working long before. Breakfast this morning would be simple; just a few pieces of toast with a bit of butter. He had only taken a few bites when there was a rattling tap at his kitchen window. He pulled back the shades to see an owl with his copy of the _Prophet_ in the windowsill. He pushed open the window, grabbing the rolled up parchment and tossing out the owl’s payment. The bird was quick to fly off again. Severus chose not to unroll the newspaper until he had finished eating and poured his tea. He carried the cup and paper into his sitting room, and he settled down into his chair in front of the fireplace.

It was another slow news day at the _Daily Prophet._ The summer had been filled with reports of arrests and convictions of witches and wizards with some connection to the Dark Lord; stories of who was who and just how long they would be in Azkaban. It was now going on ten days without a capture. It was rather funny because Severus could come up with a list of people that hadn’t been caught yet. But they too would be uncovered in time, if the _Prophet’s_ reports that the Ministry had increased Auror security were true. Nowadays, the news mostly concerned the rebuilding of the Wizarding world. It was little stories of shops reopening, heroes returning to their families, quickie marriages, and growing prosperity. On that particular morning, it was cover to cover with articles relating to the youth. With September fast approaching, families were venturing out as they always had, causing an economic explosion in Diagon Alley. _Prophet_ writers seemed to go on and on, page after page, claiming that they had a new Renaissance on their hands. Let Harry Potter lead the way!

Severus tossed the paper aside, annoyed and frustrated. Like he really needed to read about how lovely other people’s lives were. Once he had gotten past the embarrassment of being saved by the little sod, Potter also had been amongst the furthest from his mind, and Severus had every intention of keeping it that way. Talk about Dumbledore knowing more than Severus would like. Potter knew _way too much._ And it took Severus a while to stop kicking himself because that was _his_ fault. All in all, Severus didn’t let this get to him too much. He didn’t need any more stress. He tried to rid himself of the tension in his head as he relaxed into his chair and carefully sipped his tea.

He had let his eyes wander around the room when something caught his eye. It sat on a small table by the front window. Setting his cup down, Severus got up and walked over. He looked down at what so quickly got his attention, and then cautiously picked it up. It was a letter from Dumbledore, the only one he hadn’t set fire to. And yet, Severus didn’t regret it, even though this letter had been the cause of much confusion and stress in the past several weeks. And even there, long after he first received it, Severus couldn’t help but reread it again with the last scraps of doubt that his soul could offer.

 

_Severus,_

_I say, it has been a shame that I have not had the chance to speak to you, face to face, in quite some time. How have you been fairing? I speak for plenty of others when I say that I hope you have been well._

_I understand why you would wish to keep yourself away. These reporters have been absolutely dreadful. I question if they have forgotten the meaning of the word “privacy.” I do apologize for the trouble the media attention has caused you. You, especially, could have done well without that nonsense. I also feel just awful for those editorials about you. It’s appalling to think that people would still question your loyalty, even after I come to your defense. If only they knew the full story of what you have been through. However, I’m not beyond hope of changing their minds. You know that I don’t like to boast about my influence, but I find that it can be quite handy in times like this. I’m sure that you have been reading the_ Prophet _. They say we could be on our way to a golden age. Well, I say that if we are, we should be able to start anew. We should do what we can to return to a sense of normalcy, and then live out the rest of our lives in our various forms of happiness. My dear boy, I’m no different, and neither are you._

_Severus, I have a proposition for you……_


	2. A new life begins here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at beginnings, so be nice...
> 
> Disclaimer: The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names

Harry Potter quietly made his way through King’s Cross Station. Pushing the trolley that carried his trunk, he carefully weaved through the crowds, trying his best not to attract the attention of passing Muggles. His pace was slow, walking nearly half the speed he had gotten used to in years past. His eyes were also heavy as he waited for that espresso to kick in. The young man, with his unruly hair and lethargic demeanor, stuck out like a sore thumb among the droves of jittery, overly-caffeinated commuters. It was rather annoying to be this tired, on this morning of all mornings. Then again, that is what you get for sitting up half the night. But really, how could he sleep with what was on his mind, day or night?

He never thought that he would have a reason to return to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters until that day when he would see his own children off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And yet here he was. And just as he had been for the last seven years, he was glad to be there, elated even. There was nothing in the world that could change that, especially considering the circumstances.

Lord Voldemort was dead; dead, gone, never to return. Harry was to be forever known as the boy who defeated You-know-who, the savior of the Wizarding world. Now, all the Wizarding world had to do was start over. Pick up where it was forced to leave off. In fact, it was that very thing that brought Harry to the train station that day. Upon the request of many, Professor Albus Dumbledore, backed up by other influential wizards, decided that Hogwarts would have its first, and hopefully only, repeat year. Students would return and repeat the year they had reached when the war fully erupted. Dumbledore stated that this decision came about to ensure that the children got what they deserved out of their education. It was a chance to get back to what they were really there for, and for the Seventh years, it was a chance to walk away with a positive experience.

Harry could not have been more grateful for that. After all, it was only a year ago that he and his friends thought that they would never return to Hogwarts Castle as students. Hell, at some points, they didn’t think that they would live long enough to regret not going back. Harry couldn’t decide what was more of a miracle, that he was going back to school, or that he and his friends all made it through the last year.

When Harry reached the platform that led to the magical gateway, he started to get an extra step in his stride as his morning coffee finally took effect. The eyes behind his glasses began to dart around the area. The Muggles around him carried on with their day, dashing for their morning trains with a briefcase in one hand and a half-eaten croissant in the other, blissfully unaware of the juicy secret just behind the walls. Harry spied the gateway. Taking one last look around the station, he gripped the handle of the trolley and dashed right through the wall. He came to a slow, graceful stop on the other side.

The platform was teeming with people, just as it always used to be. Many of them were parents seeing off many of the younger children as they boarded the train. Familiar faces jumped out every so often. Unlike the muggle station, Harry’s presence did not go unnoticed. His name echoed across the platform and some First and Second years rushed up to him seeking autographs. But as he dropped off his trunk to be packed away and got on board, a somber fact slowly became clearer. The train was crowded, but not as crowded as it had been. In light of all too recent events, some had made the difficult decision not to return to Hogwarts. A range of reasons was to blame, whether it was a personal loss or the mere fact that they just weren’t ready. Even though some of these people would return in time, it still cast a shadow over the minds of those who had gathered there on that morning. After all, there were other missing faces that they would never see again.

As he walked down the aisle way, looking into compartments as he went, Harry was again stopped by everyone from young attention seekers to old acquaintances offering a friendly greeting. Handshakes and pats on the back seemed to come out of nowhere as hands reached out of compartment doors. Harry took it all with a quick nod and a humble smile. He did not dislike this newfound interest in him; he expected it after all. And even though he would never admit it in even the most polite company, he _was_ a bit more deserving this time around as he actually _did something_ that even the most naive Muggle would call heroic. But still, there was nothing that could change the modest quality in Harry’s character. Celebrity and idol status were nice, but he would still carry himself the way he always had. He would be damned if he let his fame go to his head.

Harry walked up nearly the entire length of the train until he found Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger in their own compartment, waiting for him.  Hermione was leaning up against Ron, who had his arm wrapped around her body. Every so often, they would gaze into each other’s eyes in a way that Harry could only describe as disgustingly romantic. He knew it was still rather early in their romantic relationship, so there was going to be that first long phase of having no ability to keep their hands off each other. But the truth be told, Harry still wasn’t used to the sight. He didn’t have a problem with the idea of it all, not one bit. But the sight was a bit odd. It was his two best friends…together…in love even! It was just weird! It was almost as though a small part of him yearned for the days when this was a secret.

_‘Ah well, at least they’re happy,’_ he silently told himself for the hundredth time. As he sat down across from his two friends, Hermione leaned up to plant a generous kiss on Ron’s cheek.

“Hey guys, please!” Harry protested. “I understand you’re into each other and all, but please try to tone it down a bit. I see enough at home.”

“And you don’t think that it bothers me to watch my best mate snog my sister?” Ron inquired as Hermione pulled away again.

“At least Ginny and I try not to snog in your general area. If you happen to walk in on us, that’s your own fault.”

Ron looked at Hermione, but she shook her head at him. “Don’t look at me, I agree with Harry on that one.” She eased out of Ron’s arms and settled down next to him. “We’re sorry, Harry. I understand if it’s annoying to see couples when Ginny is still back at home.”

Harry sighed as he shook his head, more to himself than anyone else. Hermione was referring to the fact that Ginny Weasley was one of the students who had decided not to return. Following the loss of her brother Fred, she had concluded that she had been through enough and wanted to spend a year away from school. She wanted to give herself time with herself. She had even agreed to help a dejected George run his joke shop. While this idea was not a very popular idea amongst her large and opinionated family, Ginny had to put her foot down. And besides, this was only temporary. She would finish school, just not in the coming year. As she put it in a very long and detailed letter to Percy, a year off from school was not going to end her chances of a successful life.

Of course, Harry wasn’t exactly thrilled when she told him. After all, he had only just gotten her back after weeks apart. Frankly, it was the last thing he wanted to hear after those long days of wondering if he would ever see her again. Not to mention that it hadn’t been any easier for Ginny to stomach the idea of being apart from him again. But Harry felt deep in his gut that they would make it work. It took him a long time to realize his feelings for Ginny, and he wasn’t about to give up on her. He just had to get used to the whole idea of not having her by his side. Now, if only everyone else on earth would stop bringing it up.

Harry took it upon himself to change the subject, but he didn’t really have an idea of what to talk about. Lucky for him, Ron and Hermione had offered him an apologetic silence. An idea came to him. “It’s still a bit funny that the three of us are sitting here now, isn’t it?”

Hermione and Ron nodded. “I have to admit,” Ron’s eyes wandered to the window as he spoke. “When we said that we weren’t going back, I thought that it was final.”

“Well you never had much reason to think otherwise,” Hermione pointed out. “I was going to go back eventually. I didn’t think it would be this soon.”

“Right, and who would have guessed that they would just start last year over again?” said Harry.

“Perhaps life can go back to normal for us.”

Harry had to raise his eyebrows at Hermione’s comment. “You really think so?” he questioned.

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, I do. Think about it, things could have been a lot worse.”

“Yeah, Dumbledore really could have been dead,” said Ron.

They all remembered the day when in a grand shock and surprise, Dumbledore appeared before the Ministry of Magic very much alive. He announced that his death had merely been a meticulously staged plan of his own making, and that he had been aiding those on the side of light in complete secrecy. Now that He-who-must-not-be-named had been defeated, it was the right time to come out of hiding. Harry in particular was stunned. Once he picked himself up off the floor after the initial shock, it took him a good two days to believe what he was hearing. But once he saw Dumbledore’s face in the _Daily Prophet_ and heard his voice on the Wizarding wireless, there were no words to describe Harry’s happiness.  

“I see what you mean, Ron,” Harry thought for a moment. “I guess if that can’t bring us all a sense of normalcy, nothing will.” He let his green eyes roll as his lips tugged into a smile. “I know I’ve probably said this before, but we’re really lucky to be here.”

“You have said that before, like twenty or thirty times.” Ron shook his head, as though he were suppressing a laugh.

“And yet we agree with you every time.” Hermione smiled as she tucked her head underneath Ron’s chin. “We might be a bunch of ‘trauma cases’, but we’re a blessed bunch of trauma cases.” Both Harry and Ron looked at her with strikingly similar arched eyebrows. “What? I like to think that things happen for a reason.”

The boys had to muffle their laughter at the amount of cheeky sentiment in that statement. “Really Hermione?” Harry said with a smirk. “But I see what you mean, I guess. Who knows, maybe the three of us can finally have a nice, quiet year at Hogwarts.”

“Pardon,” a voice came from the compartment door. “Sorry to interrupt, but everywhere else is full.”

Before Harry could look up, Hermione’s face broke out in a bright grin. That’s when he looked to the door and saw a tall girl with long, red hair and the faintest trace of freckles. Though already dressed in the pressed white shirt and gray skirt that made up the base of a Hogwarts uniform, she leaned casually against the compartment doorway, not weighed down by the patchwork handbag that hung off her shoulder.

Her name was Rosella Beckett. However, everyone who knew her called her Rose, as it wasn’t exactly easy to live in modern Britain with a name like Rosella. To many, she looked as though she could have been some distant cousin of the Weasleys, something that frequently brought about laughter. After all, the Weasleys were not the only wizards with ginger hair.

She was another Seventh year Gryffindor who was returning to Hogwarts to complete her final year. While she had been friendly with the Golden Trio since their early years, it was under the umbrella of maturity that they found their common ground. Hermione especially enjoyed Rose’s company, spending more time with her than with other girls their age.

Rose wasn’t really one of those friends that the Trio saw much of outside of school. She lived in a small village some distance outside of Greater London that was a tad bit out of their way. If they saw her at all, it was in Diagon Alley or other Magic establishments. She was also frequently alone; they had heard quite a bit about her parents, but had never met them. But still, whenever she was around, Rose was a pretty cool person to hang out with. To borrow a phrase Harry once heard from Hagrid, she was just another one of the good old Gryffindors.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Rose continued, cracking a smile.

“Ah Rose, you don’t have to ask,” said Harry. Ron got up and sat down next to Harry in order to let Rose sit next to Hermione. As she relaxed into the seat, setting her handbag down next to her, Rose said “I really hope you three don’t mind if I follow you around a bit this term.”

“Aw, of course not,” said Ron, causing Hermione to smile proudly at her boyfriend. “You’re not as much a bother as other people here.” Hermione’s smile disappeared as she looked at Rose.

“He is right,” said Rose, matter-of-factly. “I passed a bunch of Slytherins on my way back here, and really, I don’t think they’ve changed much. They’re already at it with talking about people behind their backs.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You would think that after last year, some of them would lighten up a bit.”

“All in good time, I guess,” Rose shrugged. “It was a bunch of Third years anyway. They weren’t in much of a place to be affected. It’s not like they were on the front lines of that battle.”

“The way we were?” asked Harry. Rose was quiet for a moment before she said, “Yes, and you’re one to talk.”

Hermione leaned up against the seat, cracking her knuckles as she did so. “Oh, you have got to ignore them. They should realize how lucky they are to have the chance to finish school. I’m sure you heard us talking about that.”

“I did,” Rose nodded in agreement. “I couldn’t have put it any better.”

The compartment was filled with four satisfied sighs before a stretch of silence. Harry leaned back into the cushions as Hermione tucked herself into the corner of her seat to look out of the window. Rose also kicked up her feet and crossed her legs. Ron sat forward, getting his companions’ attention.

“I just thought of something. I heard the most ludicrous thing this morning. You know, about Hogwarts.”

“Oh, do tell,” said Rose, leaning in closer. In spite of her opinions of bothersome Slytherins, she was always up for a little gossip.

“I heard that Dumbledore is bringing Snape back to teach again.”

“What?!” exclaimed Harry, Hermione, and Rose together in instant shock.

“Yeah, apparently Dumbledore says that he deserves to have his job back, so he’s going to give it to him.”

Cracks suddenly appeared in whatever joy any of them had for returning to Hogwarts. Of all the people that they wanted to see back at the castle, Professor Severus Snape was among the last. Even though there had been plenty of news coverage praising the man’s actions, it didn’t stop Snape from becoming one of the most controversial figures in recent Wizarding history. To say that people had differing opinions on his character was an understatement. In fact, the four friends knew of other students who struggled with the apparent truth. Actually, some continued to say that he was so vile that he might as well have stayed a Death Eater.

“Alright, as much as I respect Professor Dumbledore, what is he thinking?” asked Harry.

“You know, that’s exactly what my mum said when she read it in the _Prophet_ this morning.” said Ron.

“It was in the _Prophet_?” Rose raised her eyebrows. “God, I need to get that subscription. I’m surprised there hasn’t been an uproar of protest.”

“It might be a little late for that,” said Harry. “I guess Dumbledore has the public convinced.”

“Precisely,” Hermione jumped in. “I would think that the public would only allow it to happen if they knew Dumbledore was keeping him on a really short leash.”

“Pity to the muggles who just sent their children off to be taught by a slightly unstable former servant of He-who-is-recently-deceased,” Ron laughed.

At that, Rose abruptly got up and went for the door. “I’ve got to see this for myself.”

“Where are you going?” asked Hermione.

“I’m going to find a copy of the _Prophet_. There’s bound to be at least one on this damn train.” Before she left, Rose went into her handbag, still sitting on the seat, and brought forth a few silver sickles. She tossed them to Harry. “When the trolley comes this way, get me a package of Pumpkin Pasties, will you?” After Harry nodded yes, Rose went outside and disappeared down the car.

She hadn’t been gone long when the lunch trolley stopped in front of their door. Harry and Ron loaded up on Chocolate Frogs, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. Harry did get the Pumpkin Pasties Rose had asked for, but he also decided to put in for packages of Droobles Chewing Gum for her and the others. Harry was in a generous mood that day, eager to provide for his companions.

A couple of minutes later, Rose came back with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in her hands. Her eyes were going up and down the front page, looking for the headline. She sat down next to Hermione and opened the paper. She then dug into her handbag again and out came a thermos of what turned out to be hot tea. Harry tossed her the treats. She noticed the Droobles and said, “Oh Harry, I think these are yours.” She tossed them back.

“Oh no, I bought those for you.”

“Why?”

“I’m just feeling generous today. I had some extra money, so it was no trouble.”

“Aww, thanks Harry. You’re such a sweetheart, Ginny is a lucky girl.” Rose ate one of the pastries and then looked back down at the paper. She fiddled with the Droobles wrapping as she glared at the parchment. “Yes! Here it is!” She pointed the article out as she read it aloud for her friends to hear.

**_“ Former Death Eater to teach classes again_ **

_Though many announcements have been made about the re-opening of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most shocking of these declarations came yesterday morning. While in a conference concerning the status and staff of the legendary school, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore announced that Professor Severus Snape, the former headmaster and war-hero who has been a subject of our pages for four months, will be returning to Hogwarts to teach in the coming year. Professor Dumbledore explained that Professor Snape, age 38, would be restored to his original post as Potions master, instead of his most recent position as the school’s Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. This announcement comes only ten weeks after Snape was tried by the Ministry of Magic for alleged actions and ties to He-who-must-not-be-named, and found innocent. However, the decision to put him back in the school environment was not a popular one, as some are still questioning Snape’s motives and loyalties. When asked about his decision to reinstate the former Potions master, Professor Dumbledore stated “I saw this as my opportunity to give back and reward a brave man for his perilous deeds. And it is my opinion that it would be the ideal choice in any circumstance. I believe Professor Snape to be a good teacher, an excellent Potions master, and a fine wizard. Therefore, I’m giving him and the students the chance to start anew and continue on as we always have.” Professor Dumbledore went on to say that Snape’s loyalties have always been with the side of good, and that he completely trusted the Potions professor. He stated that while Snape was not a particularly popular teacher with most students at Hogwarts (with the exception of the students of Slytherin, the house that Snape maintains headship of); the students would be in absolutely no danger and would be in good hands at all times. Professor Dumbledore also said as a comfort to parents and guardians that in the event that anything of particular concern did happen, the necessary actions would be taken. When Professor Snape was later contacted about his own views on his employment, he stated that he had no comment at that time.”_

“Of course, he had no comment!” said Ron. “What the hell is he supposed to say?”

“Hey, take it easy,” Hermione motioned to Ron. “If it hadn’t been for Snape, Merlin knows where we would be now.”

“That might be true, but that doesn’t mean that I have to take this lightly.”

“I kind of agree with Ron,” said Rose, tossing the paper aside. “This is insane.”

Hermione sat forward. “It makes perfect sense to me. Everyone else gets to start over, why shouldn’t he?”

“At least let the dust settle a bit first,” said Ron, crossing his legs. Across from him, Rose took a swig from her thermos. “Ron, if we didn’t know about it until now, I think it already has.”

“Just why are you so bitter about this?” asked Hermione, fingering her way through a box of Bertie Bott’s. “Given what we know…”

Ron sat up, planting both feet firmly on the floor and lacing his fingers together “Alright, I get it. Snape was really working for Dumbledore all along, he helped defeat Voldemort, he’s as much a hero as Harry is. But seriously, think about it Hermione. That doesn’t mean the man is going to change.”

Hermione’s eyebrows wrinkled as she opened her mouth to respond. But just before she could get any words out, her eyes wandered away. She seemed to have suddenly started thinking and retreated into her mind. Beside her, Rose was nodding in agreement. Ron turned to Harry. “You see my point, don’t you?”

“I guess I do. Depends on what you mean by change.”

“Think Harry. This is Snape we’re talking about. This is the guy who has hated you with a passion for years for something that you had absolutely no control over.”

“He was still protecting me.”

“While making your life a living hell.”

“He was doing it for my mother. He did everything for her.”

“Harry, you sort of let the whole world know that he was in love with your mum, and people have been talking about it all summer. You think he’d appreciate that?”

Harry’s face molded into a mask of utter annoyance. “I know, but that’s when I thought he was dead,” he said. His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he let out a shallow sigh. “Thanks a lot, Ron, for reminding me about that…like I need that now.”

Ron continued his argument. “The way I see it, Snape was never a nice guy before, and he isn’t going to be now.”

“You’re probably right,” Harry agreed, biting down on a licorice wand. “That’s just the way Snape is, war or no war.”

“I can’t imagine what that class is going to be like,” sighed Hermione.

“I’ll tell you what that class is going to be like, Mione,” Ron answered. “Two words…bloody…hell!”

Harry groaned. “And something tells me that he’s not going to treat the Gryffindors any better.”

“Harry’s right. It might get worse.”

“Hey guys, you never know,” Rose said, finally getting back into the conversation. The trio all looked at her attentively, though a bit puzzled.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“I get what all of you are saying. I understand; Snape does deserve respect. I have no problems with that.”

“Of course you don’t,” Ron interrupted. “You managed to do pretty well in Potions without Snape harassing you at every turn.”

“Hey, he’s picked on me too!” Rose leaned in towards Ron, reached out her hand and smacked Ron’s arm, making him flinch. “Now, don’t interrupt me. I respected Snape in the past, and I respect him now. He is a great wizard after all. But it’s like you already said, Snape was a git, and likely still is.”

“What are you getting at, Rose?” asked Ron.

“What she’s trying to say is that maybe Snape won’t be _as_ harsh to us this year,” explained Hermione. “If Snape comes back to a Hogwarts that sees him for what he did in the war, and they commend him for it, then maybe he will return the favor.”

“Exactly,” said Rose with a nod. “And who knows? Maybe a little time in Azkaban wore him down a bit.”

“Thinking of the positives, are we?” Harry said with a smile.

“Well…yeah, I guess I am. We’re all here so we can get on with our lives. And whether we like it or not, Snape was part of our lives. We managed it then, and we can manage it now.”

“You’re almost starting to sound like you’re glad to see Snape get his job handed back to him on Dumbledore’s silver platter.” Ron smirked as he cocked his eyebrow.

Rose chuckled. “Don’t be so crazy, Ron,” she said. “I’m not totally thrilled about it either. I don’t like him anymore than you do.”

“You could have fooled me,” Harry laughed. “After all, you _did_ get good marks in Potions.”

“That’s rubbish, Harry. Do you not see who I’m sitting next to?” Rose pointed in Hermione’s direction. “I was never as good as Hermione is.”

“Pretty close,” suggested Harry.

“Over exaggeration, but I’ll take it.” Rose smiled with smug pride. “Alright, I got good marks. But I cannot and _will not_ say that Snape is the reason behind it. I earned them like everyone else did. Hell, I’m lucky that I wasn’t like you two and got atrocious grades just because Snape didn’t like me.” She pointed to Harry and Ron.

“He never liked any of us, really,” Hermione pointed out, rather reluctantly.

Rose reached for her tea thermos again. “Like that’s anything new. At least I didn’t spend the summer on the front cover of a newspaper. I feel bad for you three conquering heroes.”

The three conquering heroes groaned, making Rose laugh under her breath. Ron glared at her. “You had to say it. You can be quite the little bitch sometimes, you know that?”

“Aren’t we all?” Rose grinned playfully. “And even so, it isn’t like we should have expected any better. No matter how good you or I or anyone was, compared to his precious little snakes, did he ever give us any credit?”

“No…” The girls said this together, wagging their fingers. The boys rolled their eyes, Harry sighing into his hand which had slowly come up to his face. Rose noticed this. “What’s your problem?” she asked with a laugh.

“Nothing, it’s just that you two are so cute when you have a moment.”

“So are Hermione and Ron, but you don’t acknowledge that.” There was a brief moment of honest laughter at Harry’s expense. He tried to sway the conversation off of him again.

“But you know what? The more that I listen to you all, the more I agree with Ron.”

Hermione frowned. “That just doesn’t seem right. We have every reason in the world to see Snape in a new light, and you’re still sitting here blaming him for our problems.”

“Oh Hermione, I don’t think we’re doing quite _that_ ,” said Harry

“Old habits die hard, mate.” Ron chuckled as he lightly punched Harry’s shoulder. He suddenly glanced in Hermione’s direction, getting her attention with the mere blink of his eye. “Why don’t we let Snape decide what’s gonna happen?”

“Oh yes…I agree,” Hermione said in a way that suggested she was distracted, slowly beginning to inch her way over to Ron’s side of the compartment. It very quickly became apparent to both Harry and Rose that their conversation was indefinitely over as the bushy brunette settled back into the crook of Ron’s arm. Harry almost squirmed at the prospect of where this was heading. Rose, meanwhile, took a little pleasure in suddenly having the seat to herself, kicking up her feet and stretching out her legs. She noticed the look on Harry’s face and giggled.

“Come on, Harry. I’ll rescue you.” Rose bent her legs back. Harry quickly hopped over to the other side and settled into the empty space. He noticed Rose’s hand out of the corner of his right eye, holding the cap of her thermos. “Tea?” she offered. Harry reluctantly took hold of the small cup of scalding hot liquid and gulped it down.

“Thanks,” he said, coughing against the heat.

“Gee, you’re talking like that was something more substantial than just earl grey.” Rose took a whiff of her tea. “Maybe I should add something to it sometime. A little rum might not hurt.” It seemed that this was directed more to herself. She looked up to the couple across from them. Ron and Hermione were nuzzling into each other, the looks in their eyes showing just how oblivious to the world they were. Harry and Rose exchanged looks.

“Still not used to that?” asked Rose, indicating the love-birds.

“I don’t think I ever will be.” Harry shook his head, his gaze traveling out the window, watching the passing flashes of green and gold that was the English countryside. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Me? No, not at all. To tell you the truth, I’ve been waiting for it since we were fifteen.” Rose stuffed half a Pumpkin Pasty into her mouth, washing it down with a long swig. “You might not have to worry about You-know-who anymore, but I don’t think your term will be uneventful.” She laughed.

“Hey!” Ron suddenly objected. “We can hear you, you know!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been through this already on FF.net, but please be kind in your opinions of Rose and my other original characters. I know that she seems a bit two-dimensional here, as well as the next several chapters. But this is where I warn you that this is a VERY long story, and everyone needs time to develop. And just to add to that, her name and her appearance will come back eventually to show their reason. Hope you can hang on for the ride!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos! Thank you so much!


	3. Back at Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names

And so it was that come night fall, just as it had for decades before, the Hogwarts Express came to a slow, screeching halt at Hogsmeade Station. Within seconds of the final lurch, students of all ages began to pour out of the compartments, heading for the doors leading out. Harry had asked Ron to keep their box door closed, choosing to wait until the flow of teenagers had died down enough for them to slip out easily. Students poured out onto the platform in a predictably disorderly fashion, housemates and year-mates already bunching together in a flurry of whispers and babble. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked together down the way with Rose following not far behind. As they pushed and maneuvered their way through the crowd, a familiar voice came echoing over the white noise.

“New Firs’ years! This way! This way, please! New Firs’ years, over here!”

The so-called Golden Trio rushed over to Rubeus Hagrid as he appeared out of the darkness, gigantic lantern in hand. “Hagrid!” Harry called, beaming at the sight of his half-giant friend.

“Harry! An’ Ron an’ Hermione!” Hagrid raised his arms above more than a few heads, welcoming the greeting. “Glad ter see all of yeh back again.”

“It’s great to see you, Hagrid,” said Hermione with her charming little smile. She didn’t really know why she said it; they had only just seen the gamekeeper a week or so before in Diagon Alley, not really enough time to warrant an excited greeting. But it just seemed appropriate for the occasion, and Hagrid didn’t miss a single beat otherwise.

“I’ll tell yeh,” he smiled. “This year ought ter be great, now that we haven’t got ol’ You-know-who to worry about.” Looking past Ron’s head, Hagrid noticed the second head of red hair. Almost mistaking it for Ginny, he looked again. “Why, Rose Beckett! Haven’t seen yeh in a while. How are yeh?”

“As good as I can be, Hagrid,” said Rose from behind Ron and Hermione. Like many students of Hogwarts, Rose was friendly enough with the school’s gamekeeper. It was a shame that she was also one of those students who he couldn’t help academically. She had taken Care of Magical Creatures for a time. But she dropped the class after their fourth year when it became quite clear that she was just one of those witches whose range of ability only extended to owls and cats.

“Don’t any of yeh be shy now. Stop by for tea sometime. Yer all more than welcome.” Hagrid looked up behind their heads at the mesmerized little First years, then back down at the bespectacled lad “Hope to see yeh soon, Harry. Alright, only the newest Firs’ years, follow me! This way!”

He turned and began back down the platform. Hagrid’s massive figure disappeared back into the darkness of the night, the light of his lantern the only thing left to see. The shaking kids, whether in excitement or in apprehension, followed suit into the inky black. Smiles on their faces, Harry and the others made their way off of the platform and into the surrounding wood, heading for the clearing where the school carriages waited for them. Upon reaching their destination, Harry stepped forward. But then he realized that the only footsteps he heard were his own. He turned and saw that his companions had stopped where they stood, their faces all frozen in chilled wonder. Harry followed their eyes and realized what it was. They had caught sight of the Thestral that that was pulling the carriage that was currently being boarded by a group of younger girls.

“What? You know what they are,” he said.

“I know,” said Ron, his eyebrows arching up. “But _that’s_ what they look like?”

“Haven’t I _tried_ telling you that?” Harry pointed out. “And you can stop staring like that. You know that they’re just about harmless.”

“Yes, but that was before we could see them.” Ron shook his head.

“I’m with you on that,” said Rose from beside him, her voice a bit soft.

The three silently agreed to quickly get over their dumbstruck awe. They stepped into the clearing, Ron gathering Hermione up in one arm, and Rose respectively lagging behind. Both girls seemed to be having trouble with looking away from the Thestral. More familiar voices began to float up from the path behind them. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan seemed to be enthralled in some conversation when they too caught sight of the dark, skeletal horse.

“Bloody hell! That’s a Thestral?” said Dean.

“You would have known that if you had read that book,” said Harry, prompting him to wrinkle his eyebrows in confusion at his own statement. Had Hermione just possessed him for a second or two? Dean and Seamus turned at the sound of his voice.

“Harry!”

There was a flurry of greetings as the Seventh year Gryffindors came together. It was as though they hadn’t gathered in such a way for decades. Dean and Seamus, in particular, thought it appropriate to make a jolly fuss of Hermione and Ron’s newfound romance. Ron took it all with pride while Hermione just looked embarrassed, looking to Harry for backup. Harry somehow knew that it would be useless in the end. Rose was glancing around the area, knowing that there were more folks to come. Her three mates knew a bit too well who she was thinking of. After all, as they had come to realize over time, there were only so many that Rose chose to spend her time with.

And sure enough…

“Oh my god, hi!” an excited, high-pitched voice rang out. Lavender Brown half ran, half skipped down the path, and just behind her were the Patil sisters. All the girls stopped by Rose, who flashed a smile in their direction. Harry watched them sporadically, amidst his conversations with his other housemates.

Lavender hadn’t changed a bit. She had that same curly blonde hair and that same lively look on her face that suggested she was hopped up on caffeine. She also seemed to be much happier these days. The twins did also, but to Harry, it seemed that Parvati had had taken it upon herself to make a small change. While her sister’s dark hair still hung in a long braid, Parvati had cut at least half her length off and it now hung around her shoulders in tousled waves. Rose carefully touched the ends in a gesture of admiration.

For a moment, Harry watched the four girls interact. As chummy as Rose was with Hermione these days, it would have been impossible for her to share a dormitory with Lavender and Parvati and not have some sort of relationship with them. She might have been forced to choose sides at times, but that never stopped Rose from being friendly with her fellow Gryffindor girls. Harry recalled one instance between the two girls, when Hermione had once privately asked Rose what she saw in that blonde airhead. This was back in their sixth year, amidst the whole Ron/Lavender episode. Rose’s response, rather bluntly was, “I like who I like.” It all made for a very uncomfortable night in Gryffindor tower.

Lavender appeared to be telling Rose some invigorating story when she suddenly looked beyond Rose’s head, quite distracted. Justin Finch-Fletchly had walked by. Harry didn’t need to assume anything. Lavender was looking at Justin the way she used to look at Ron.

“I’ll see you all later,” she said, excusing herself. She darted off after Justin. Parvati and Padma also bid Rose goodbye, Padma choosing to join her Ravenclaw housemates while Parvati joined Dean and Seamus as they boarded the next carriage. Harry walked over to Rose, who was still spying on Lavender as she talked with Justin.

“She’ll be snogging him in a month,” said Rose, a suppressed laugh laced through her words.

“How do you tolerate that?” Harry asked, referring over to Lavender’s flirtatious, animated character.

“I’ve told you before. She’s good in small doses.” Rose sounded like she didn’t want to admit that, but still smiled.

“Hey guys,” Neville Longbottom had just approached the little group, getting their attention. Hanging onto his right arm was a whimsically sunny Luna Lovegood. Harry raised his eyebrows; he wouldn’t have put those two together in a million years. Neville stepped forward and shook Harry’s hand. Harry was impressed with the firm strength Neville had acquired as of late.

“Hey Neville, congratulations,” said Rose. “I heard you’ve been recruited to Minister Shacklebolt’s Auror force.”

“Yeah, I was,” Neville smiled, practically blushing. “I didn’t think I deserved it as much as Harry and Ron did.”

“Oh, shut up. I was there, you did.”

“Well thank you, Rose, for such support.” Neville sounded as though he was trying to be sarcastic. Luna smiled at Rose, to which Rose responded with a twitch of her mouth. Unlike her friends, Rose never did quite see eye to eye with Luna. Even there, it seemed uncomfortable between the two girls. Rose stepped back from the group and surprisingly, Harry took a bit of offense to that.

Another carriage came to a halt in the clearing, twigs snapping underneath the wheels. Ron glanced at it and turned to the others. “Hey guys, lets grab this one. We can talk on the way up.” He motioned for Hermione to follow him. Luna also followed the couple, gently tugging on Neville’s arm. Harry waited for his friends to board the carriage before moving to do so himself. But just before he stepped up to the door, he looked behind him where Rose, still lagging behind, waited for her turn. Her eyes were glued to the haunting creature at the coach’s head, looking a bit lost in some unknown thought.

“Hard to ignore, aren’t they?” he said, attracting Rose’s gaze. She shook her head, tossing locks of red hair back behind her shoulders. “A bit,” she said on a sigh. She glanced back at the Thestral.

“Come on,” said Harry, stepping out of the way to let Rose on.

**~HP~**

It was a pleasant sight to see. Carriage after carriage, loaded with children, bouncing and creaking as they made their way up the path that led up to the magnificent  fortress that was Hogwarts castle. It was even more pleasant for the older students to look out on the lake and see the little glimmer of lanterns. At that moment, the new First years were getting their first look at the school, probably awestruck at the sight. To think that this might not have happened if events had panned out differently.

Up at the castle, unseen to the eye, the Hogwarts ghosts took great delight in watching the first few carriages pull up to the huge front doors, and the first groups of students step out.  The halls were soon filled with young voices. Footsteps echoed off the walls, headed for the Great hall.

From his place at the center of the Head table, Albus Dumbledore watched with witless glee as hundreds of uniformed children poured through the doors, and began taking seats at their house tables. The teachers around him also watched, though some looked less joyful and more like they were nursing a stress headache. The looks on their faces at the sight of their least favorite students back again was something that Dumbledore couldn’t help but find amusing.

Harry and Ron settled on a spot down toward the center of the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Rose sat down across from them.  The other Seventh year Gryffindors seemed to be crowding around them, and there was probably a reason for that. That is, other than Harry’s revamped notoriety. Harry and Hermione had the honor of being named Head Boy and Head Girl. That, of course, meant one of two things. Either you come to find that no one cared, or you suddenly found yourself with an entourage. Both Harry and Hermione had hoped for the former.

They were in the middle of some conversation when Neville, who sat a ways down from Harry, looked up to the Head table. “Merlin, its Professor Lupin!”

This surprised exclamation obviously caught the attention of his companions, causing them to look up to where their teachers sat. Remus Lupin sat two places down from the right side of Dumbledore’s chair, a small smile across his face as he conversed with Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick.

“What’s he doing here?” asked Seamus.

“You don’t suppose he’s got Defense against the Dark Arts back, do you?” Hermione asked, quite surprised.

“It doesn’t shock me,” Ron snickered. Hermione looked across the table at Ron and Harry. Both of them had very smug smirks on their faces. Within seconds, a burn of realization shot through her brilliant mind.

“You sneaky little gits. You knew he would be here, didn’t you?” She pointed an accusing finger at them. Next to her, Rose was looking back and forth between the Head table and the two young men, an amused, crooked smile tugging at her face. Harry shook his head as Ron chuckled, half to himself. They glanced at each other briefly before laughing. “So you did know!” Hermione accused. Rose, also giggling, tugged at Hermione’s sleeve in an attempt to get that finger down.

“He told me about three weeks ago,” said Harry. “But he asked me not to tell anyone else.”

“Oh really? If Remus asked you not to tell others, then why is Ron laughing like he knows something?” Hermione glanced at the person in question with a wrinkled eyebrow.

“You didn’t think that Harry would be able to resist the urge to let me in on a good secret, now did you?” Ron flashed his charming smile at her. Hermione didn’t seem to be too amused as her response was, “And not tell me as well?”

“Hey, don’t blame me.” Harry waved a hand at her. “I wanted to tell you too. _Your boyfriend_ stopped me.” He couldn’t stop himself from speaking with a certain smirk.

Hermione looked at Ron, who offered an apologetic chuckle. “And you find that funny?” she scolded.

“Not as much as I did three weeks ago.”

“Good save, Weasley,” Seamus laughed from down the table. Harry saw both Hermione and Rose roll their eyes at that. They all looked back up to watch Lupin chat with his old colleagues.

“It wouldn’t have surprised me though,” said Ron. “I mean, the job’s open, and he was the best we had. If I were headmaster, I would hire him again.”

“Took the words from my mouth,” said Harry.

“He looks like he’s doing well for himself,” Rose commented, cocking her head to the side. And she was right. In recent weeks, Lupin had been able to obtain a whole new set of robes to replace his old, worn out clothing. In fact, he now looked better than Harry or anyone else there had ever seen him before. The young wizard was relieved; losing Tonks had been terribly rough on the poor man, leaving him to raise their son Teddy on his own. It had also been an incredibly difficult decision to leave the baby boy in the care of Andromeda Tonks while he was away teaching. But it was good to see that Remus was not letting anything like heartache or regret slow him down.

“I’m glad,” Hermione smiled. “He deserves it.”

“Is he really back to teach?” Rose asked Harry. Harry slowly nodded, though with an assuring smile. “But wouldn’t the fact that he’s a werewolf matter?” Rose brought a stern hand up, leaning her elbow on the tabletop. “Not to cast any opinion on his character.”

“Don’t underestimate Dumbledore.” Harry arched his eyebrow in a sarcastic gesture. Rose giggled at that.

“Who really cares about that anyway?” asked Hermione.

“A lot of people would probably have a teeny, tiny problem with that,” Rose pointed out. “Isn’t that technically what drove him away last time?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Harry, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t want to admit it.  

“She does have a point,” said Ron, nodding to Rose. “That could be why it wasn’t mentioned in the _Prophet_ at all.”

Hermione shook her head, sighing as she did so. “It’s just a shame. I mean, Remus really deserves this. He’s a hero.”

“So is Snape, but we weren’t exactly quiet about that.”

“Speaking of Snape,” said Ron, unintentionally interrupting Harry. “Wonder where he is.” The rest of his companions looked up to the Head table and each went down the line of professors. Oddly, Snape was nowhere to be seen among them.

“That’s a bit funny, isn’t it?” Rose wrinkled her nose with her comment. Beside her, Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Yes, very peculiar.”

“What, does he get some sort of grand entrance as part of his new contract?” Ron couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the idea.

“If he does, I don’t really see Snape being too fond of that idea.”

The loud creaking of the massive doors stopped Harry from going any further. The noise began to die down as Minerva McGonagall walked down the center of the hall, a roll of parchment in her hands. Behind her followed the new batch of students. An interesting fact suddenly became apparent to their older counterparts. Even though all the children were repeating their respective years, Dumbledore had made it clear that he did not want to exclude the young ones that would have been entering that term. They would simply be combined with the already established First years. And therefore, the First year class was going to be huge! Not only that, but it was also going to be a tad bit confusing when you realized that half the kids had a year on the other.

Everyone, Harry and his friends included, watched the Sorting ceremony silently and respectively. They applauded with smiles as each new Gryffindor took their seats at the table. They watched as the more habituated students talked with them, making them feel comfortable. More than a few had flashbacks to eight years before when they were in that place. Harry also couldn’t ignore the blissfully pleased looks on the faces of the Heads of House. That is, except for one.

“Hey, look who finally decided to slip in,” Harry subtly pointed to the Head table. His friends, as well as the other Seventh years who had overheard, practically whipped her heads in that direction. Sometime during the Sorting, Severus Snape had appeared in a chair which sat between Lupin and what would be McGonagall’s place. Unlike many of his colleagues, Snape did not look very happy to be there. His face held a glare of indifference, and it appeared like he was trying very hard to ignore his former classmate beside him. He held himself with a certain dignity, and yet he let his back rest against his chair. It was as though he couldn’t present the same pride as in past years. To Harry, it even looked like Snape was tired.

It took roughly forty minutes to sort fifty children amongst the four houses. Once the last new Hufflepuff was sitting down, Dumbledore rose to his feet. He was silent for a moment, allowing time for the students to quiet down again and giving McGonagall a chance to sit down. Only then did he speak.

“Welcome all to a new year at Hogwarts!” His voice rang out loud and clear, holding the attention of everyone in the room. There was brief bout of applause, brought on by a few excited students. The headmaster patiently waited for it to fade away again before continuing. “As I have a fair many times in the past, I have a few notices for you before we continue with our evening. Firstly, new students should adhere to the rule that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students. Students are reminded that absolutely _no magic_ is to be performed in the halls. And lastly, our caretaker Mr. Filch wishes me to inform you that a new restriction has been placed on a number of new Weasley Bros. products, a list of which has been posted in your common rooms. Now, there are a few changes in staffing for this new term. To begin, I am delighted to welcome Professor Cassandra Wicker.”

He gestured to a seat down from his left. A middle-aged witch sat there with idyllic poise as she smiled at Dumbledore. Thick locks of brown hair were pulled back and away from a maturely pretty face and surprisingly bright brown eyes. “She has so graciously accepted the task of teaching our Muggle Studies classes after the tragic loss of our dear Charity Burbage. I’m sure that she will do her best to pick up the pieces and make her class a favorite of students again.” Dumbledore encouraged the students to applaud, which they did in a politely courteous manner. Professor Wicker nodded to her students with a modest smile.

“It is also my pleasure to welcome back Professor Lupin.” The old wizard found himself interrupted by instant cheering from students, Fifth year and up. But that was probably to be expected. Amused smirks travelled down the table to where Lupin was humbly shaking his head, laughing inwardly. “It seems that he’s back by popular demand!” Dumbledore chuckled, making others laugh with him. “Yes, it is truly wonderful to have him here with us again. He has been a tremendous aid to the side of good against Lord Voldemort, and I hope that you join me in wishing him luck in picking up where he left off all those years ago.” The applause was thunderous from those who remembered Lupin as the DADA teacher. He gave a little nod of the head, acknowledging the praise.

“Finally,” Dumbledore held up his hands. “Our dear friend, Professor Slughorn has decided to return to retirement. But as far as his replacement is concerned, I couldn’t have possibly found a better person than this man. After all, he did teach Potions quite successfully for fifteen years. It is my honor and my pleasure to welcome back Professor Snape.”

 The room was filled with mumbling. Exclamations of the Potions master’s name rose up above the chatter. Obviously, some had not been reading the newspaper. However, some chose to remain respectively silent. It wasn’t like they could try and protest Dumbledore’s choices. That would just get them nowhere. Even an odd number of Slytherins were strangely quiet.

“As many of you now know, Professor Snape was a major part in bringing about Lord Voldemort’s downfall. He spent many years working to achieve this, often putting himself in great danger for the cause. I believe that he is a very courageous man for putting himself in such a place. I can even say that he is one of the great heroes to come out of this dark time in our history.”

“He sure is laying it on thick, isn’t he?” said Rose in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, honestly. For magic’s sake, is all that really necessary?” Ron agreed with a quiet snicker.

“But it’s true,” Hermione corrected. “Every word of that is true.”

“Mione, you’re my world, but give it up,” shrugged Ron.

“Ronald!” His girlfriend hissed. Ron blew her a kiss, making her huff. She turned to Rose. “You know that.” Rose shrugged, a bit confused. Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked to Harry. “Surely you see that I’m right, don’t you Harry?”

“Perhaps,” Harry wrinkled his eyebrows, taking on an expression that was not unlike Rose’s at the moment.

“So you admit that he’s a hero.”

“I do, with reality in mind.”

Hermione looked insulted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” And somewhat reluctantly, that was where the brief conflict ended as Dumbledore continued.

“Therefore, in light of these recent days, it is my hope that you welcome him back into our family with respect, appreciation, and gratitude for all that he’s done for us.” The applause that followed was sparse at first, but it did grow as more accepted the element of truth in the headmaster’s speech. A number of Slytherins cheered, overcoming their unease over the appropriateness of latching onto their Head of House.

“I wish all the luck in the world to all new and returning staff members. On a more serious note, I hope that you all understand just how lucky you are to be here tonight. I don’t want to credit our victory to good fortune alone, although I will admit that it did have some bearing on how these events played out. Nonetheless, the odds were stacked greatly against us. And if it hadn’t been for those brave men and women who fought so hard to save our freedom, I’ll have you all know that things could have turned out quite differently. Every one of you has been affected by this war, and a fair few of you saw the true horrors of the battle that took place on these very grounds. You’re lucky just to have lived to tell the tale to your grandchildren one day. I began this term as a repeat-term for a reason, other than to give you a much better education than you received last year. My only genuine request for you, as my students, is to make the most of this year. Those in your final year should especially take note. I want you to use this year for what it is; a chance to not only restart your education, but a chance to move on with your lives. We have all been through a lot, but you don’t deserve to let Lord Voldemort loom in your minds long after he should have been forgotten. You all are much too young for such a burden. So therefore, let this year at Hogwarts be a year that you’ll never forget. Let it be filled with thrills, camaraderie, and memories. And let it be the beginning of the bright future that now waits for you beyond these walls.”

The faculty and Seventh years led the way in a nearly full minute long, thunderous applause. It was actually rather funny. They knew that it was a bit absurd, and it wasn’t like Dumbledore really wanted such praise. The old wizard waited patiently before raising his index finders, catching the attention of his pupils. “And so with no further ado, let us indulge in our marvelous feast.”

A massive variety of food appeared on the plates that adorned the tables. The students immediately helped themselves to their meals, some choosing to take a second helping before they had even started on their first. Conversation was slow to begin, people more interested in their food than each other. But the incoherent babble got increasingly louder as conversations arose about such things as families, summer holidays, and new relationships. The latter was a topic of much interest amongst the seventh years at the center of the table.

“So Ron and Hermione,” Parvati grinned from her seat, several places away from the Golden trio. “You two finally made it official. How long has it been, a few weeks?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” Hermione smiled an embarrassed smile, practically mincing the roast chicken in front of her.

“Not that it really matters,” Ron laughed under his breath. He shoveled a forkful of his Cornish pasty into his mouth. He only stopped chewing when Lavender’s voice echoed down the table “Oh, so proud of our relationships, are we?”

Hermione’s face scrunched up in annoyance and quiet fury. This was the one part about returning to school that she dreaded the most. She and Lavender never got along before, they certainly couldn’t stand each other when Lavender was dating Ron, and they never would agree on anything in the future. But if there was one thing that Lavender was _really_ good at, it was sticking her nose in people’s business. Hermione didn’t need to be as smart as she was to know that Lavender was not going to stay quiet about her and Ron, and in reality, there was no way to stop it without someone getting hurt.

However…

“Lavender, hush!” Rose stuck her fork straight into her shepherd’s pie and pointed at the blonde. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“But Rose –,” Lavender tried to complain, but Rose stopped her. “He’ll shut up too.” She quickly turned to Ron. “Ron, shut up. Now Lavender, be civil.”

“I will if she is.” Both Rose and Hermione were flabbergasted by such a comment. The boys laughed as Hermione turned to Harry for aid. Harry, having nearly choked on a piece of beef, was hiding his laughter in his hand. Then Rose started laughing. “Forgive me, I must have missed something. I didn’t see or hear anything that could remotely be considered an attack on your character.”

“Well…for further emphasis.” Lavender seemed particularly confident in that statement, prompting a nod from Parvati.

“Very well,” Rose picked up her fork again. “Now, everybody relax. No need for bickering when people are trying to eat.” She licked the bits of mashed potatoes off of the prongs.

“But that’s what makes them so adorable!” Seamus chuckled, elbowing Ron in the side. Dean also joined in the merriment, as did Neville. Harry shook his head, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was out of his sheer amusement or disappointment. Hermione’s cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Hey guys!” Rose arched her eyebrow, staring straight at the two friends. Her voice took on a tone that was calm and collected, but with something foreboding buried far beneath. “Gossip behind someone’s back is one thing. But public humiliation is another. And either way, I don’t want to get involved because the results would not be pretty.”

The group was suddenly quiet, eyes flashing between a smug Ron, a blushing Hermione, and a subtly intimidating Rose. “Oh lighten up, Rose,” said Harry, cutting the tension around them.

For some time after, the conversation stayed on the topic of new love. More than a few wanted to get details from Neville, who occasionally glanced to where Luna was sitting not so far away at the Ravenclaw table. Ginny Weasley also came up a few times, much to Harry’s chagrin. But then Hermione spoke up again.

“He looks dreadful, don’t you think? Snape, I mean.”

“Well, he’s not the loveliest of blokes to begin with,” said Ron, reaching for a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She briefly glanced up in the direction of the head table. “No, I mean he looks very off color. His face looks paler than before, and he seems weak.”

“Really Hermione,” Harry jumped in. “I imagine that it’s hard to look good after what happened to him.”

“It’s been a couple of months though,” said Rose, also looking up at Snape. “I agree with Hermione. He _looks_ like he almost died.”

“He doesn’t look very happy either,” said Neville, dragging down the mood of their group. Ron chuckled under his breath. “Like that’s a surprise.”

“I’m sorry that I have to ask this,” said Dean. “But how in the name of magic did he survive?”

Neville nodded his head at the question. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering that too.”

“Me too, and I was there,” said Ron. “Nobody should be able to survive being bitten in the neck by a snake that size. I mean there was blood all over the –,”

“Too graphic, Ron,” Harry curtly told him, definitely not wanting to revisit those particular memories. “People are eating here.”

“Right, sorry.” Ron scraped up a mouthful of carrots. “But still, he bled out pretty quickly. And if it wasn’t the bite, then the snake’s venom should have done it. I heard that it was supposed to stop your blood from clotting. What the hell happened?”

“Hermione, didn’t you go up to the hospital wing for a while after the fighting was over?” asked Rose, easing her head back around. Hermione nodded at her. “Were you up there when they brought Snape in?”

Again, Hermione nodded, playing with her food as she sank into those unpleasant reveries. She hadn’t been any less shocked when Harry came rushing into the medical ward, pulling her out of the way of the rapidly passing stretcher, or when she heard those healers shouting about reviving what should have been a dead body. “I only caught glimpses of what they were doing, but it was incredible how they brought him back, that he was still alive. The most that they could conclude was that he did lose a lot of blood, and he slipped into a deep coma because of it. He seemed to hang on just long enough for them to save him. How or why, they didn’t have a clue.”

“I wonder if it was something he did,” said Harry.

“Well, he did say in our very first lesson that he could stopper death,” Neville said in a dubious tone. “Maybe he’s finally done it.”

“We won’t know until he talks.” Harry glanced at the poorly-looking Potions master.

“Maybe some people just have a strong will to live,” Rose suggested. Harry briefly looked at her out of the corner of a green eye before looking back up to the head table. “Yeah, maybe.”

Not many noticed the caught the slight dip in Harry’s tone, Rose included. But Hermione picked up on it immediately. Rose was pretty off-target with her statement, and Harry knew that better than anyone. But a simple agreement like that seemed to speak louder than anything else he could have told the relatively naïve Beckett girl. “You know, you guys should be ashamed of yourselves, the way you all talk about Snape.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” said Rose, rather amused by Hermione’s need to make a point.

“Well, you guys shouldn’t talk so lowly about him. You especially, Harry”

“For the umpteenth time, Mione,” said Harry. “Snape was a brave man for doing the things he did. But Ron made it pretty clear on the train. We, by no means, have to like him for what he is. And if I’m honest, I don’t think I can.”

“Harry’s right,” Rose added. “People don’t really change that easily. Not to mention that perceptions are harder to break, your boyfriend and his best mate as my examples.”

“Whose side are you on, Rose?” asked Harry with an uneasy laugh.

“Who said I had to take sides?” Rose smiled. “But anyway, I read the editorials over the summer. It was as though there was a debate going on among the people. Half are like you and the other half are like Ron and Harry.”

“Just to reiterate, I do respect him.” Harry held a hand out to the ginger girl.

“Then you should treat him as such,” Hermione quietly scolded. But Harry was quick to respond. “To quote Lavender, I will if he does.”

The response from the Gryffindors was a bit absurd, even getting the attention of students on either side of the table. Harry and Ron looked across to the Slytherin table, where they quickly picked out a rather dismal looking Draco Malfoy. His face held his familiar scowl, yet it seemed like it was suppressing some depressing thought. He stared down with them for a moment before rolling his eyes and turning to talk to Pansy Parkinson, who was resting her head on his left shoulder.

“Now Harry,” Hermione chewed out, bringing his attention back. Ron stopped his girlfriend by folding down her index finger into her fist, and completely covering her hand with his. “Let me show you what we’ve been trying to tell you.” He turned to the others. “From what you know of recent events, how many of you believe that Snape is a respectable bloke?”

Knives, forks, spoons, and fingers went up and hovered above plates of half-eaten meals. Ron nodded, as did Hermione, Harry, and Rose. He then continued. “Now, how many of you think that means he’s going to suddenly start acting like a pleasant human being, stop taking ludicrous amounts of house points, or – dare I say it – smile?” It took some time, but many of those fingers and utensils fell back down, only Lavender and Parvati remaining. Then Ron turned back to Hermione. “See?”

“Had it ever occurred to you that everyone’s a bit biased.” Hermione was suspicious, a distinct curve in her eyebrow.

“It’s in the realm of possibility,” said Harry.

“Can I just say something?” Rose asked, resting a hand on Hermione’s arm. She pointed up to where Snape sat. “Does that look like a happy man to you?” Hermione looked at the pale, weary Potions master and couldn’t do anything but reluctantly shake her head. Rose sighed. “I don’t want to say that you’re wrong, because I don’t think you are. I just want you to be prepared for the possibility that Ron is right.”

“Are you ready for that?” Seamus asked from beside Ron. “If Snape wakes up tomorrow and decides that he hates us, would you take that abuse lying down?”

“I didn’t say that,” Rose verified. “I just think we should keep an open mind.”

“Easier said than done, Beckett,” said Ron, who once again began to indulge in his meal.

**~HP~**

The night wore on, many of the castle’s inhabitants oblivious to the time. But still, the time did eventually come when the students started off for their dormitories in a thundering herd. Harry and Hermione soon discovered that there was a group of other Gryffindors following them as they made their way up the stairs. This group only got bigger with every floor of the castle. Harry even thought that by the time they reached Gryffindor Tower, they had half of the whole house behind them. Thankfully, many of the kids decided that it was late enough and made for their rooms, leaving their oldest housemates to settle down in the common room.

Ron and Hermione had claimed the sofa, though the only evidence of their romance was Ron’s arm around the bushy-haired brunette. Hermione kicked up her feet and tucked them close to her body as she leaned into the embrace. Beside her, Rose relaxed into the cushions with crossed legs and a pleasantly limp form. Harry sat in the chair next to the fireplace; sinking into it so that he could rest his head on its back. Down on the floor were Seamus and Dean, whereas Neville had pulled a chair over from the table in the corner. That was where Lavender and Parvati now sat, listening from a distance.

Conversations from dinner rose up again, quiet laughter filling the space. Comments and other nonsense travelled back and forth across the room. This continued for about an hour before Seamus got up off the floor and disappeared up the stairs. His companions were a bit confused, but concluded that he had merely decided to head up to bed. Dean was about to get up to follow when Seamus reentered the room. He carried a bottle of Fire Whiskey in one hand and a set of six shot glasses in the other. The Irishman set down the glasses on the table, brought forth his wand, and conjured up another three glasses. Then he popped the top off of the bottle.

“I’ve been saving this for a special occasion.” He poured a generous amount of the smoking liquor into each glass. After replacing the cork, he waved his wand. The glasses slowly floated across the room, stopping in front of each person. They took hold of the whiskey as Seamus poured a glass for himself and raised it up.

“Here’s to the first night of the rest of our lives.”

He downed his whiskey with one good tilt of his head. The same was so for the others, Dean being the first one to set his glass down onto a nearby table. Harry sighed against the strong taste, slowly shaking his head, while Rose reacted with a quick little, “Woo!” Ron offered to finish off Hermione’s, though she did eventually man up and gulped it down. Behind them, Parvati and Lavender were slow to drink.

“What, girls? No courage?” Dean laughed, prompting the others to look behind them.

“You know we don’t drink,” said Parvati. Lavender also nodded, turning to Seamus. “Surely we’ve told you that. We must have said it a hundred times.”

“Don’t we all?” said Harry with a certain shake of his head.

“Come on girls,” Rose turned to face them. “Just this once, for camaraderie’s sake.”

Hermione surprised them by also shifting her gaze to the two friends and saying, “You can’t get drunk off one shot.”

Lavender looked at her with an expression that betrayed her thoughts, and that was, _‘Damn you Granger!’_ Both of the glasses soon lay empty in Seamus’s hand. The quiet merriment only lasted another thirty minutes before the little group began venturing up to bed, one by one. The last ones left were Ron, Hermione, and Rose, all still taking up the sofa.

Ron looked to the clock as he yawned. “I guess I should go to bed. I told Harry I was right behind him.” Hermione looked a bit disappointed, but she still smiled and leaned in for a kiss. However, she stopped herself and looked over her shoulder at Rose, who sat there with eagerly raised eyebrows. “Do you mind?” Hermione asked. Rose smugly turned her head away, giving Hermione her brief romantic moment with Ron. He then disappeared up into the dormitories.

“I think he’s got the right idea,” said Rose as she stretched out her legs and stood up.

“I agree,” Hermione said. She got to her feet, yawning widely. Naturally, this made Rose turn her head and yawn. She blinked it away as Hermione walked to the stairs. “Come on,” she urged Rose.

The two girls slowly made their way up the staircase, Hermione leading the way the entire time. Up and up they went, passing the doors of others girls’ rooms. They even bypassed the door that bore the sign reading **Seventh Years**. They finally came to a stop at the door at the top of the tower. Hermione jiggled the door handle a little before it clicked down and she pushed the door open.

The room was small in comparison to the other dormitories. It only had two full-sized canopy beds, already made up in the same crimson red curtains and dressings as the others below. A nightstand sat beside either bed. They were only separated by the width of the window that looked out over the lake and the surrounding mountains. Beside the door was a vanity of dark wood, and an oval shaped, delicately carved mirror rested on its surface. Across the room was a large, handsome dresser. Two trunks rested in front of the beds.

“Say,” Rose said, surprised. “Not bad being Head Girl, is it Mione?”

“Not bad at all.” Hermione giggled as she walked into the room and flopped down onto what would be her bed. Rose approached the other bed, letting herself fall onto her backside. She gently hopped where she sat, testing out the quality of the bed. Her blue eyes widened. “Good lord, the mattresses _are_ softer up here.”

“Thank you Hermione for sharing your private room with me.” Hermione half-mocked with a laugh. Rose rolled her eyes. “I was getting to that. But yes, thank you. I feel lucky that you chose me.”

“You’re lucky that I chose to have a roommate at all. I could have had the room all to myself.” Hermione swiped her hand through the air.

“But you couldn’t be outdone by Head-Boy-wonder.” Rose sneered. Like Hermione, Harry had been given the option of having a roommate, a privilege that came along with their private rooms. However, it took an idiot to not realize that Ron had his foot in the door before Harry himself was aware of this. Then again, Harry might have even begged for it.

“It’s not that,” said Hermione. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like being alone.”

“Not to mention that your tolerance of me is far superior to that of Lavender and Parvati,” Rose teased.

“I don’t hate them. They’re just annoying.”

 “Alright, whatever you say.” Rose eyed the dresser. “You take the top two drawers, and I’ll take the bottom two?”

“Works for me,” Hermione agreed with a nod. Both of them got up and walked to the end of their beds. Rose quickly went to work with taking things out of her trunk and setting them down in the drawer. Hermione, meanwhile, had taken to sorting out her clothes and other belongings on her bed as she waited for Rose to finish.

“What did your parents think when you told them that you were Head Girl?” asked Rose, all but tossing her bras and knickers into her drawer.

“I don’t think they could have been more excited,” said Hermione. “How many times did my dad tell me about how proud he was?”

“You don’t say.” Rose sounded almost skeptical amidst her surprise. “The genius that you are, they probably knew it was coming.”

“I don’t know if you could say that,” Hermione blushed. “But you know what? I didn’t mind the fuss.”

“You almost make me jealous of such praise.”

“Why? Don’t you get any from your family?” Hermione turned to Rose, confused.

“It’s not that I don’t get any, it’s just not to the extent that you do. My mum’s just one of those Muggles who isn’t really interested in what goes on here.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “See, I find that surprising.”

Rose shook her head. “It’s nothing new, Hermione. You look like you think she doesn’t love me.”

“I certainly hope that she does.” Hermione tugged at the sleeve of one of her shirts. Rose laughed as she pushed the first of her drawers closed and went to work on the other. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, she does. She’s just trying to be respectful of my _alternative lifestyle_.”

The girls were quiet for some time, more focused on their unpacking, until Rose looked back to Hermione. “Say Hermione, why _did_ you choose me to room with you?”

“I already told you,” Hermione didn’t look, instead choosing to continue sorting. “I didn’t want to be by myself up here and you and I are the most compatible of us girls.”

“Is that so?” Rose cocked her eyebrow. “What about Ginny?”

Hermione was rather caught off guard by such a simple question. It took a minute or two for her to formulate an answer. “Yes, Ginny is one of my dearest friends.”

“So if she were here right now, she would be me?” Again, Hermione struggled with the appropriateness of the question. Rose’s voice came again. “Be honest, I don’t mind.”

Hermione sighed. “Alright, yes. I was going to ask Ginny before I found out she was taking the year off. But it’s not like I don’t like you.”

Rose waved it off. “I know that. I always sort of thought that that was the truth.”

“I don’t mean any harm by it. I do consider you a good friend. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.” Hermione turned to face Rose, who stood up after putting away her last pair of socks. She tapped the lid of her trunk so that it closed with a loud ‘thunk’. She then walked over to her bed and spun around as she fell back onto it. “That’s comforting to know.”

“I should say so.” Hermione pulled open her drawers and put away each carefully arranged pile, one by one. “After what we’ve been through, it helps to still have companionship.”

Rose sighed, slowly closing her eyes. “Don’t I know it?”

Hermione’s heart suddenly started to sink. She knew that this was bound to come up at some point. Rose had sounded fine enough, but it was like Hermione to know better than that. She wouldn’t dare admit that there was another reason why Rose stuck out amongst the crowd of potential roomies. Rose had returned to school with baggage, as did many others along with them. But it was baggage that had struck a nerve in Hermione’s sensitive soul.

“It’s a bit sad that your friends aren’t here anymore. I mean, you were closer to them than anyone in this tower.” Hermione sat down on the edge of her friend’s bed as Rose sat up to look at her.

“I can’t really lie to you, Hermione. I did seriously consider not coming back because of that.”

“Well it’s good that you did,” said Hermione. “You know you’re better off with a few N.E.W.Ts.”

Rose’s eyes wandered off, a twitchy smile tugging at her mouth. “I love how that’s the first thing that comes to your mind. Never mind good times without a dark lord. We’ve got to focus on those exams.”

Hermione tried to smile at this cheek. “You know how important they are.”

“I do, but personally, I’m not worrying about them until the spring.”

“What became of Jonny and Natasha? No one else seems to know,” Hermione asked, cautious of her choice of words. Jonny and Natasha were two of Rose’s now-absent friends. Since their second or third year, it was pretty common knowledge that where ever Rose was, the Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw were not far away. But rather unfortunately, not many had heard from them since early May.

“Jonny wrote to me and told me that he’s had enough of living around here, said that the war destroyed his view of our world. He took off for America. I think he’s living in New York now. And Natasha’s finishing up her education with a private tutor. She says that her family is making plans to move to Russia in January. Her dad’s got a job with the Russian Ministry. I think that’s where she’ll end up eventually.” Rose looked to the floor, suddenly seeming rather down.

Hermione shook her head. “Alright, if that’s what works for them.”

“To each, his own,” Rose still didn’t look up. “But it still amazes me that I could man up and show my face here and they couldn’t.”

“I’m surprised that they didn’t consider how you would fare without them.” Hermione wrinkled her eyebrows. “It just seems selfish of them to run off suddenly and leave you to fend for yourself, especially considering how –,”

“They did what they had to do,” Rose interrupted. “It wouldn’t have done much good if they both made themselves miserable by coming back to Hogwarts for my sake.”

“I know, but –,”

“I want them to be happy. And if leaving Britain is what does it for them, then so be it. Besides, they both sent their love, wished me luck in the future. They promised to send owl posts every now and then.”

Hermione waited patiently, anticipating another interruption. When Rose finished dancing around what Hermione was trying to say, the latter said, “I just don’t think it was fair to you. They know what’s happened as well as you and I do. You could have really used their support.”

Rose met Hermione’s gaze. “I got through the summer without them. I can get through the rest of my life without them.”

“In those letters you sent me over the summer, it sounded like you were only just getting by.”

“One day at a time,” Rose looked away again, her voice getting softer. “I just took it one day at a time.”

Hermione leaned over and got a look at Rose’s face. There was a twinge of sympathy in her heart. Frowning, she rested a gentle hand on Rose’s shoulder. “I know I’ve already told you this, but I am really sorry about your –,”

“I know you are,” said Rose. “But I don’t really want to talk about it. Okay?”

“Alright, I respect that.” Hermione went back over to the dresser and opened it to find her pajamas. Rose, who had already set hers aside, went straight to stripping off her uniform and replacing it with the light, soft t-shirt and pants. She got into bed as Hermione finished dressing. As she turned out her covers, Hermione looked back to Rose. “I hope you know that if you ever need to talk to someone, there’s always me. No one is allowed in here without my permission. You can’t get more private than that.”

“I think you know enough, Hermione.” Rose relaxed into her pillows. “But thanks.”

“Goodnight then,” said Hermione as she rested her head down. Rose turned over so that her back was to her friend. “Goodnight,” she yawned.

It took mere minutes for both girls to fall into a coma-like sleep. But then again, it shouldn’t have too been hard in the first place. They both had been through a lot, everyone had. But no matter what horrors they had seen in their short lives, there was an overwhelming sense of peace all through the castle.

They were back at Hogwarts. They were back where they belonged.

 


	4. The misery in the happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership at all. I only own original characters

Down in his personal quarters in the dark, quiet dungeons, Severus leaned on his bathroom sink. His arms supported the weight of his frail body. Being that it was still rather early in the morning, the Potions master stood there in his old, gray nightshirt. A light sweat was forming on his forehead as he looked into the mirror at his pasty face and hollow eyes. But it was only a matter of minutes before Severus lowered his head to stare down into the sink. He breathed deeply against the slow, nauseating turn that his stomach had made him endure.

To say that Severus was a bit queasy was an understatement. Since rising an hour or so before, Severus felt nothing short of ill when he really should have felt rested. He had to reluctantly thank some unseen deity that he had been spared any vomiting, though that didn’t stop him from kneeling before the toilet for some time, just in case. This eventually became sitting on the edge of the bathtub and leaning in on himself. And though the nausea did seem to lessen, allowing him to stand, Severus didn’t dare leave that bathroom until he had no other choice.

Severus groaned as his weary eyes met those of his reflection. Of all mornings that he had to get sick, it had to be the first day of classes. True, Severus wasn’t exactly enthused by the prospect of being trapped in a room with good-for-nothing simpletons again. Not to mention that he had a morning of well-meant merrymaking from the likes Dumbledore to dread. The day had every potential to be absolutely miserable. Now top that off with trying to nurse a case of indigestion. What was worse; getting sick or the thought of being sick in front of students and colleagues?

Severus took a step back away from the sink, toward the bathroom door. But that suddenly sent the room into a slow whirl. His stomach muscles clenched as he fell to his knees and crawled over to the toilet. He leaned over the porcelain bowl as his breath suddenly began to hitch. His knuckles were white as he gripped the brim. Severus shut his eyes in anticipation of what was to come. But again, the wave passed and Severus’s entire body relaxed. Where had this nausea come from so suddenly? What had he eaten the night before that was causing him such a misfortune? But as much as Severus felt the need to ponder said misfortune, he knew that he had to put such thoughts out of his head. He had enough on his mind that morning as it was.

Severus forced himself to his feet, dabbed the sweat from his forehead with a towel, and then went back into his bedchamber. The room was still very dark, save for the one small window which gave way to the unrelenting light of the morning sun. Why did it seem that the sun had chosen to rise much too early that day? There were probably hundreds in the castle who would welcome this. But it was nothing more than a nuisance to the ailing Potions master. He really could have used a bit more sleep. Severus dressed at a relatively slow pace as to not further agitate his stomach, choosing to sit on the edge of his bed as he pulled on his robes and buttoned up his frock coat. And it was here that he remained until he felt that his rebellious insides would allow him to carry on with his morning. As he left his bedroom, headed for the sitting room that led to the main door, Severus made a mental note to brew an Anti-nausea Potion if his stomach hadn’t settled by nightfall.

**~HP~**

Albus watched with a smile as his young pupils enjoyed their breakfast, whether it be sluggish from an early rousing or excited to begin this new day. The headmaster’s joy was doubled by the quiet, chipper conversations of the teachers around him. To his right, Pomona Sprout was gabbing away with Filius Flitwick as the little wizard stirred a third spoonful of sugar into his tea. To his left, Minerva McGonagall and Remus Lupin were engrossed in a discussion over their morning coffee and a copy of the _Daily Prophet._ Life looked to be well on the path of returning to the way things should be. In that moment, completely satisfied with where he was, the elderly wizard decided yet again that retirement could wait.

He wasn’t fazed when he noticed Severus enter through the side door. However, he was a bit taken aback when he looked up to see the Potions master’s sallow face. He was a sickly white and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Albus followed Severus’s black eyes as they traveled up and down the table and came to see that the only available seat was between Minerva and Remus. Severus silently growled, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. He then slowly walked over and sat down. Minerva greeted him with a nod of her head, but Remus turned right to him with bright, amber eyes.

“How are you this morning, Severus?” he asked, reaching for a second helping of scrambled eggs. The overpowering smell threatened to turn Severus’s stomach again, causing him to take a breath in hopes of easing it away. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” he said, not looking at the werewolf. “What possessed you to think it was, Lupin?”

“It’s just courtesy,” Remus raised his eyebrows. “When have you ever known me to be rude?”

“When have you ever known me to take joy in your presence?” Severus glared at Remus out of the corner of his eye. His low growl was laced with venom. Why in the name of Merlin did this man feel the need to even attempt to be friendly with him? And why the hell did he have to be so chipper that early?

“Hmm…what’s got your wand in a knot?” Remus asked this as his eyebrow twitched up.

Severus snarled as he reached for a few pieces of toast, the only thing that his meager appetite would allow. “I think the question is what hasn’t.”

“What are you talking about, Severus? It’s a lovely day and everyone is in a good mood.”

“All horrendously irritating,” Severus bit and ripped off a bit of toast. He chewed with aggravated force before swallowing hard. “And you being a morning person does absolutely nothing to brighten my day.”

“Well forgive my enthusiasm, Severus,” Remus bantered as he carefully buttered his own toast. Severus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “But times are changing for the better. I’m thrilled just to have a job, let alone a job I enjoy.”

Severus shook his head. “It’s astounding that the Ministry would allow such a mangy mongrel around children. I’m surprised that you’re trusted with that baby of yours…oh wait, perhaps you’re not.” The Potions master raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

Remus sighed. “I have to make a living to support my son, and that’s not easy when you’re a single parent. He’s better off with his grandmother for now.”

“Of course, he is,” Severus sneered. “And who knows how the wolf would react to a months-old baby.”

“Unless you have been planning on tampering with my Wolfsbane Potion, we shall never know.”

Yet again, Remus chuckled in a way that made Severus’s skin crawl. His knuckles turned white as his fist clenched on his knee. He felt the vein in his head throbbing with sheer temper and intolerance for this conversation. It only got worse when that tension gave way to a new wave of nausea. Severus had to swallow hard as his mouth began to fill with saliva. He looked to Remus.

“When, Lupin, will you finally understand that I take no joy in you or your _light humor?_ ”

“Come now, Severus,” Remus said as he poured out a cup of coffee for Severus. “I know that we have had an unpleasant past, and I’m sure that we both have done things we have come to regret. But I think it’s time that we left all that behind and start over.”

“I never cared for you before, and it’s quite possible that I care even less for you now.” Severus slowly shook his head before sipping his coffee. He closed his eyes against the harsh taste of bark, feeling the color draining from his face.

“Severus,” he heard Albus say from down the table. “Are you alright?” Severus looked up to see that the headmaster’s question had gotten Minerva’s attention. She set down her teacup as she studied his face.

“Quite so,” Severus quickly answered, lying through his teeth.

Remus’s smile faded away, his eyes fixed on Severus’s face. “Are you sure about that? You look a bit peaky.”

“They’re right, Severus,” Minerva gently felt Severus’s forehead with the back of her hand, likely checking for a fever. Severus swatted her hand away, now quite annoyed. He dunked his half-eaten toast into his coffee, forcing himself to take another bite.

“Minerva, I’m alright. Leave me be.”

“I trust your word, Severus, but are you absolutely sure?” Albus leaned over the table to look past Minerva. “I wouldn’t want you to be teaching when you are not feeling well.”

“Your concern touches me,” Severus mocked. He stood up, deciding that he needed to return to the quiet of the dungeons. If anything, he needed to get away from Dumbledore. Severus knew all too well that this little concern could quickly become a sick need to mother him, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment. He looked at the headmaster, taking a last bite of toast. “Contrary to what some might believe, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Very well, my dear boy,” said Albus, his eyes twinkling with his optimistic smile. “But if there is anything I can do, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Severus rolled his eyes as he picked up his cup of coffee. As he turned to leave the Great hall, Remus looked up and said, “Good luck today!” But Severus couldn’t be bothered to offer up a reply. Instead, he slowly walked out of the side door, ignoring the curious stares of his fellow teachers.

Severus rubbed at his forehead, already feeling an ache coming on. He took a long sip of his coffee, like that was going to help. It sent shivers down his body, and the taste of bark lingered in his mouth. He felt his innards clenching up. He swallowed hard, wishing that it would rid him of this damn indigestion. The thought of the Sixth year class he would be teaching within the hour did nothing to ease his body or his mind. Now, he just hoped that he felt better by lunchtime. At least then, he could be nasty to people purely for his own bitterness, and he wouldn’t have to lie to Dumbledore about his wellbeing.

Could this be the longest day of his life?

**~HP~**

Harry and Ron were among the first of the Gryffindors to arrive at the Great Hall at lunchtime. While some of their younger counterparts were already a bit tuckered out, the two young men were quite relaxed. With no elective classes to worry about, they now had the rare privilege of long breaks in between classes. Some called it luck, others chalked it up to being lazy, but neither of them could deny that all that extra free time was more than enticing. Besides, it wasn’t like it was crucial to take those extra classes. After all, since when was a NEWT in Arithmancy needed to become an Auror?

They had barely gotten into their meals when Hermione floated in, a satisfied smile gracing her face. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron’s face relaxing. No doubt that his being was swelling with masculine pride. The ginger wizard suddenly disappeared under the table, and then reappeared on the other side as Hermione settled down. He leaned over to retrieve his plate. Harry quickly glanced away as Hermione planted a light peck on Ron’s lips. It was then that he noticed Rose walking up to them. She sat down next to him, setting her bag down on the floor.

“Oh, isn’t that cute?” she said, noticing the couple across from her. Hermione pulled away from Ron and blushed as she reached for a plate of ham sandwiches.

“Be careful who you joke with, Rose,” said Ron, obviously joking himself. “You could get yourself into trouble.”

Rose snickered and also picked up a sandwich. “Please, we’re allowed to poke fun at friends from time to time.”

“Further evidence of suppressed bitchery,”

Rose just waved him off. “I’m a catch. Speaking of bitchery, did you see the way Pansy Parkinson was glaring at Hermione in Charms? Bloody hell, if looks could kill –,”

“I would still be alive!”

Harry couldn’t stop himself from spitting out his pumpkin juice, spraying it all across the table. Surrounding students laughed, though whether it was at Harry or Hermione’s comment was anyone’s guess. Rose, who was laughing in near hysteria, reached into her robes and pulled out her wand. A swish produced a cloth napkin to sop up the offending liquid. Ron and Hermione lifted up their plates and goblets as to not hinder the quick cleanup.

“Hermione, that was brilliant,” said Rose. “Did you just make that up?” Hermione couldn’t hide her playful smirk as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

“No doubt about it now. She’s a genius,” Harry coughed. He brought forth his own wand and banished the damp napkin after Rose tossed it aside.

For some time, they continued to laugh at Hermione’s cheeky remark. But then Rose suddenly turned her head and looked over her shoulder. “Oh crap! You don’t think she heard that, do you?” She was looking toward the Slytherin table. She picked out Pansy sitting with Draco Malfoy a way’s down, a sour pout etched into her face. Harry also turned to look. “I would say that she looks annoyed, but then again, when has she not looked like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” Rose sounded bitterly sarcastic. “Perhaps when she’s taking joy in our misfortune?”

“Speak for yourself,” said Ron.

Rose arched her eyebrow. For a girl with a gentle face, it had a way of making her look as sly as any fox, and her friends found it rather intriguing. “Oh yeah, like you and Harry don’t know what that’s like,” she said. “At least Malfoy looks a bit of a sad-sack lately.”

The former Death Eater in question was currently sitting across from Gregory Goyle, Pansy’s face glued to his shoulder. At the moment, he seemed to be more interested in his beef stew than whatever conversation they were having. His face was devoid of any recognizable emotion, and his thin lips barely moved when he spoke. Harry couldn’t help but smirk. Rose was right; Malfoy did look quite pathetic compared to his former self. And frankly, it was shocking that he was even there to begin with. With his tarnished name and shattered dignity, Hogwarts should have been the last place for him to go willingly. And yet there he was! By that point, Harry had long decided that Draco Malfoy was no longer his problem, and he was more than content to ignore him when possible.

They were still looking at the three Slytherins when Pansy finally noticed them. She shot them an evil little sneer. Seeing this herself, Rose pretended to shudder as they turned back to Ron and Hermione. “Say, did it suddenly get cold in here?”

“Ooh, I have had enough of her attitude,” Hermione growled.

Harry cocked his head and said, “A bitch is a bitch, I suppose.”

“She’s jealous of us.”

Rose jumped in her seat as Lavender seemed to appear out of nowhere with Parvati not far behind. She looked up at them from over her shoulder. “That’s a bold accusation, Lav. And one that Parkinson wouldn’t admit to under an Unforgivable.”

“It’s probably true, though.” Parvati wagged a finger at the red haired witch. Rose wagged her own finger in return. “It doesn’t make it any less petty.”

“Will you all just quit it?” Neville’s voice echoed down from where he sat with Dean and Seamus. “She’s not worth it.”

It was words of wisdom from the modest Longbottom. The girls rather reluctantly dropped the subject with one last quick glance at the Slytherin table. But before Lavender and Parvati could sit, they caught sight of Hermione and Ron. Lavender’s lips seemed to suddenly take on the appearance of a straight line as she tossed locks of blonde hair behind her shoulder. Rose got her attention by snapping her fingers. When Lavender looked down at her, she pointed down the table, silently reminding her friend that it was best that the girls kept their distance. Lavender seemed to get the message and led Parvati away, settling down at a comfortable distance to listen in on their housemates.

“So Rose, what did you think of that Professor Wicker?” Hermione asked.

“I like her,” said Rose, picking at her chips. “She’s a nice lady, and she seems to be a good teacher.”

“You say that like Muggle Studies is a difficult class,” Harry teased. He knew that Muggle Studies had been Rose’s best and favorite class for nearly her entire school career.

“Well Potter, it can be to the generally thick and chronically ignorant.” Rose subtly motioned to Goyle, and Harry briefly thought that she was looking out of the corner of her blue eye at one Seamus Finnigan.

Hermione softly cleared her throat. “She doesn’t follow the same teaching style as Professor Burbage, does she?”

Rose frowned. “No, not really. Then again, Professor Burbage will not be easily replaced.”

Hermione offered an apologetic and reverent pause in honor of the murdered teacher. Harry and Ron also chose not to speak. Charity Burbage left behind many loved ones, and Rose was counted among the students she befriended and inspired. The woman helped put Rose on a path to a career, and out of the respect for the mentoring friendship, they all thought that it was wise to not openly speak of it in her presence.

Rose shook her head, almost like she was shaking off the conversation.

“Yes, well, she will be missed,” she said. “Life goes on.”

“Say Rose,” Dean leaned in over the table to look at her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. What goes on in NEWT level Muggle Studies? I mean, you’re the only one of us left in the class. Enlighten us a bit.”

Rose shrugged; she was getting a bit bored with satisfying the curiosities of her fellow Gryffindors about the oh-so-mysterious world of Hogwarts’ cupcake class. “If I knew for sure, I would tell you. I have heard a few rumors about driving and firearms, but I don’t believe any of it.”

“Yeah, like they’d want to take the risk of Peeves getting a hold of a gun,” Dean laughed as he reached for a handful of chips.

Rose raised her eyebrows with an amused smile. “Oh shit, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Why? What could happen?” asked Neville. Rose, along with Harry, Hermione, and Dean, turned to him. The same horrible image had seemed to flash through their minds at the same time. “You don’t want to know,” they warned together.

“It still seems like a waste of bloody time to me,” said Ron, referring to Muggle Studies.

“Well, maybe if you can just muster up enough Muggle sensitivity, then perhaps you would think differently.” It occurred to Rose that that might have been the wrong thing to say when she saw a certain look of utter irritation in Hermione’s eyes. Suddenly feeling the burn of a protective girlfriend, she tried to defuse the situation before her brilliant friend could add her opinion. “You know, my mum thinks that it’s such a bizarre class. She can’t seem to stop herself from asking me why I keep taking it year after year.”

“Well, she’s a Muggle. Of course she would think that,” Harry added before he chomped down on his sandwich.

The conversation turned to relative small talk, interrupted by sparse eating. Harry was made to endure an onslaught of inquiries as to when the Quidditch try-outs would be; everything from people shouting above the hum of voices to little notes travelling down the table to his plate. The number of times he repeated his answer of _I-don’t-know-yet_ was rather absurd. Much to Hermione’s annoyance, Rose got caught up in gossip with Lavender and Parvati as she flipped through her regular copy of _Witch Weekly._ Quill in hand, she marked off an item here or there in the shopping section (all magnificent, but much too expensive) as she listened to Lavender’s high voice go on about her growing interest in Justin Finch-Fletchly.

“He is just the perfect gentleman,” she smiled. “I mean, he opens doors for me, and did you see him carry my books to Charms for me?”

“Mm-hmm,” Rose nodded as she drew a star next to a picture of a charming green jacket.

“Do you think that means something?” Lavender’s eyes lit up as she leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands.

“It seems to me that he fancies you, Lavender. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Or me,” Parvati added with a certain shake of her head. Rose noticed Hermione roll her eyes and struggled to hold in her laughter. Lavender continued to giggle to herself, prompting Hermione to mime a retch. But before Rose could try to stop the foolishness, Lavender stood up and gathered her things. She explained to the girls that Justin had promised to meet her in the courtyard after lunch, and then bid them goodbye. She dashed off through the doors.

“I stand by what I said yesterday, those two will be snogging within a month,” said Rose, making the others laugh.

“Hey, does anyone remember what we’ve got next class?” Ron asked, having not memorized his schedule and apparently too lazy to pull it out of his bag. Seamus yanked his timetable out of his trouser pocket and looked down the crumpled parchment. His face fell.

“Oh hell, we’ve all got Potions next,” he groaned. Quite a few joined him, Hermione nearly scowling at their attitude. Harry thought it was wise to keep his own opinions to himself in favor of preventing another talking-to. Beside him, Rose simply went back to picking out clothes she wished she could have. Beside her, Neville was shaking his head.

“It isn’t fair. I get accepted to the Auror training program, I decide to take Potions again to get ahead, and then I find out that Snape’s teaching it again. It just isn’t fair!”

“Aw Neville, you can’t _still_ be afraid of him,” Harry teased.

“Shut up, Harry. You saw him last night. He didn’t look any less intimidating.”

“Won’t know for sure until you get there, will you?” suggested Hermione.

“I don’t know, Hermione,” said Seamus “I’ve been asking around and it doesn’t sound too good.”

“What do you mean?” asked Rose, nibbling on a ketchup-covered chip.

“Word around the school is that Snape is far worse than he was before.” Seamus stopped to practically inhale half a sausage and chewed rapidly. “I heard he took fifteen points from some Ravenclaw just for sneezing during his lecture. And look how much Hufflepuff has lost already.”

A quick look at the four house hourglasses showed that half of all the amber stones of Hufflepuff had gone since that morning. Harry suddenly found himself with a slight sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Oh please, that can’t all be from him,” said Rose, prompting a nod from Hermione.

“Are you talking about Professor Snape?” Luna had suddenly appeared behind Neville and Rose. Rose looked up with wrinkled eyebrows while Neville smiled. Luna leaned down and gave him a little kiss before setting down next to him. Harry noticed that Rose did not look very amused to be squashed between him and Neville, so he courteously shifted down the bench, giving her room to breathe.

“Oh Luna, you already had Snape this morning,” said Hermione, reaching for her goblet of pumpkin juice. She took a meager sip. “What happened in your class?”

“Ah yes, Professor Snape was quite grumpy this morning.” Luna’s bright eyes fell to the tabletop. “Rather unfortunate actually. The lesson was quite intriguing, but he seemed to spend half his time making sure that we all stayed in line. I wonder what could have Snape so irritated so early in the day.”

“I could name a few things,” said Ron through a mouthful of ham. He almost snickered when he suddenly got a hard jab in the arm. He looked at Hermione, who was looking rather satisfied with herself. Both Harry and Rose tried and failed to keep their laughter muffled.

“Ron, do yourself a favor and shut your mouth,” Rose suggested as she closed her magazine and put it away.

**~HP~**

Severus sat behind his desk in his office, watching the clock with intent as it approached the two o’clock hour. With every minute that ticked by, he could feel an immense tension building up in his head. He ran his fingers through his greasy, black hair as he cradled his head in his hands.

The Potions master groaned when the pain and aching in his head receded. Though that morning’s indigestion had faded away, Severus certainly didn’t feel any better. If this stress headache wasn’t bad enough, it was made so much worse by Severus’s sheer exhaustion. It was as though he had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before. And when he remembered that he had two more classes ahead of him, Severus could only imagine how tired he would be by the time he stumbled to bed. The thought of collapsing to the floor raced through his mind.

Naturally, his discomfort had caused Severus’s mood to take a turn for the worst. His little spat with Lupin had only been the first of many that day. The rapid, almost comical loss of house points was largely his doing, but Severus had a justifiable reason for every last one. He had been attempting to work on a poor night’s sleep and an upset stomach. He felt awful enough without the children there. So every time a student stepped out of line, even in the slightest, it was enough to spike his agitation and send him over the edge. They could call it outlandish all they wanted, it didn’t matter. The only person Severus could give a flying fuck about was himself.

Outside in the hallway, Severus could already hear the voices of what surely was his combined class of Seventh years. No doubt that they were gossiping about him and the horror stories they had been hearing. The mere thought made his head pound, causing him to massage his temples. To say that he wasn’t looking forward to this class would be a ridiculous understatement. After all, not only was he to be trapped in a room with Potter and the rest of his Dream Team, but he was also going to be forced to teach a great number of students who definitely did not deserve to be there. He had taken a quick look at the roster while at lunch and was appalled. Longbottom? Finnigan? Had Minerva completely lost her mind to actually allow these poor simpletons into his most advanced class, and for no better reason than the politics of it all? It was a catastrophe in the making! And when it came to the Seventh years, as Severus had come to learn over time, they all eventually became one of only two things. They were either overly ambitious, or criminally lazy. Severus’s eyes travelled down the accursed roster again, already expecting one or the other out of every single one of the brats. He could have wagered the deed to his house on the probability of Potter or Weasley succumbing to so-called “Seventh Syndrome.”

Severus let out a low growl as the bell rang. He pushed himself up out of his chair and slowly walked out into his classroom. He pushed open the door with a scowl. The noise died down as the entire queue turned to him. In those twenty sets of eyes, Severus could see everything from nerves, to loathing, to indifference. He motioned for them to come inside. He then stalked up to the front of the room and took his place behind his desk.

The students began to file in and Snape watched as they chose their seats. Potter and Weasley were sitting together in the middle of the room, like that was a huge surprise. To their right, Granger was sitting with the Beckett girl. Snape noticed that Draco Malfoy had taken a seat at the far end of the room. He looked at the boy and greeted him with a quick nod. Draco did the same with what could have been taken as a half-ass smile. The blonde’s short attention was then drawn away as Pansy Parkinson sat next to him, reaching for his hand underneath the desk.

Once they had all taken their seats, Severus looked out on his oldest crop of students with a menacing glare. Just looking at them increased the pain in his head; Potter especially was probably doing a number on his blood pressure. He felt the vein in his temple throbbing again. He waited a few moments before he finally began speaking.

“So here we are… gathered together again for, of all bloody classes, Advanced Potions. If any of you had taken the headmaster’s speech to heart last night, you would all be grateful to even be down here. And yet I’m quite sure that to a fair few of you, that could not be any more false. It is my understanding that not one of you is particularly enthused to be here this afternoon.” His black eyes drifted over every young face, watching their eyes nervously shift from side to side. “And I doubt that you were any more thrilled when you heard that it was to be me standing before you. Make no mistake; I am no happier to be in your retched presence. I would much rather be subjected to medieval Muggle torture than be forced to interact with the likes of you.” He stared down at Potter, who shot him a dirty look in return.

“But in any case, chances are that you all enrolled for the same reason. You enrolled to further your education, broaden your skills, and give yourselves an advantage in the working world. We could spend the term taking shots at each other, though I assure you that would be a grave mistake on your part. I hope that you also realize that doing so would get you absolutely nowhere. You would be defeating your purposes, whatever they might be. I’m sure you like to think of yourselves as adults, so here’s a little tip for that. If you truly are adults, then you must accept the horrible truth that you must do what you must do, without pitiful excuses. Now if I could just believe that any of you could follow through with this bit of maturity. I couldn’t even dream of a wonder like that.”

Snape came around his desk and began to slowly pace up and down the rows of desks. “Now, the decision to enroll in this class should not have been taken lightly. This being the final year of your education, I trust you know that the potions you will brew in this class will be the most complex of anything you have come across before in your lives.” He saw that Granger was fidgeting in her seat. He then noticed how Potter and Weasley seemed to be purposely avoiding eye contact. He suppressed the urge to publically accuse them of illegally brewing the Polyjuice Potion in the past. “Successfully passing this class would ensure that you would be able to brew just about anything you could possibly need in your day to day lives. But it would take an exceptional idiot to not know that in order to achieve this, you need to have dedication and skill. And I’m sorry to say that a rather alarming number of you possess no such talent.”

His glare fell on Neville Longbottom. Almost instantly, the color seemed to drain from the boy’s face. Snape just couldn’t resist; he stalked closer to him “It is truly disappointing that the lot of you were allowed to return to my Potions class. Believe me when I say that if I had things my way, if these postwar, victory-induced politics hadn’t gotten in the way, more than half of you would be gone.” He stopped right next to Longbottom, leaning closer with every snarling word, forcing the nervous Gryffindor to retreat further back into his seat. “No doubt that you entered my class thinking that it was for your own good. But in doing so, you severely underestimate your own abilities. You think you’ve done a good thing, but all you will have done is make a mockery of the art of potion making. Even now, I look at your faces and see nothing more than a clumsy, incompetent waste of my _time!_ ”

His barking comment was followed by a sudden crash. Longbottom had fallen backwards out of his chair and hit the cold dungeon floor, having failed to grasp the desk in time. Snape backed away, letting the whelp get up. The rest of the class was trying to stop their impulsive laughter, some hiding their smirks and giggles behind their hands. “Silence…” Snape growled as Longbottom sat back down. He glanced around the room, making sure that every last student was quiet. His glare fell on three way too familiar faces. The tension in his head began to rise again, pain radiating through his skull.

“And then there are those who have skill, but let their egos get in the way.” He came to a stop in the aisle that separated Weasley from his overachieving girlfriend. Snape looked at the two girls who looked up at him with frozen expression. He noticed Rose Beckett quickly swallow. “I cannot deny that some of you seem to have half a brain cell for the subject. You brew what you are told to with no real trouble, giving you the right to brag to your unfortunate classmates. But mark my words; your pride just might be your downfall.”

He turned his head to stare down at the Boy-who-lived. He felt an agonizing heat building up in his chest at the sight of those emerald eyes. “Nothing is more vile than a second rate brat who revels in miniscule glory. I don’t care how wonderful you think you are; there is a very fine line between dignity and arrogance. And one thing I will _not_ tolerate is arrogance. Such useless confidence has not gotten you anywhere before, and it never will. Consider that a fair warning, all of you!”

Snape turned around and walked back up to the front of the room, ignoring Potter’s obvious desire to snap at him. He turned back to face the rest of the class. “Now, let it be known that I will only say this once. In recent weeks, you all have come to find out certain information about me. I know what has been said about me, and I am more than aware of your varying opinions. But in this room, none of that has any relevance. My experiences are, and will stay a personal matter, and no amount of postwar merriment can affect me in any way that concerns you. No matter who you are, I am not, nor have I ever been your friend. I have always treated my students as they deserved, and the same holds true today. And if any of you come to me wanting to know the truth behind _The_ _Prophet’s_ stories, it will merely be a pointless act of poor judgment. You will find that you will have only wasted time and house points. If you want a war story, your man is right there.” He pointed at Potter, turning all eyes on him. The boy ran his hand over his messy hair, as though he wanted to flatten it over his glasses, further obscuring his green eyes.

The Potions master stood before his class in silence. His head was pounding once again, and he almost struggled to breathe past the tension and burning in his chest. He felt worse now than he did before the class started. It was as though Snape was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the first foolish cheek. And for his own sake, Snape hoped that Potter had enough sense to stay good and quiet. He took a moment to try to calm himself down before he turned to the board.

“Very well, let us now get to what you are actually here for. If you would open your books to page –,”

_*Cough, cough*_

That did it; Snape whipped around with a fierce snarl. “Five points from Gryffindor, Mister Thomas, for interrupting my lesson!”

“Sir, he just –,”

“Ten points, Miss Patil!”

“But Professor Snape –,”

“Would you like to make it twenty points, Miss Granger?”

The girl shrank back. “No sir,” she said quietly.

“Then shut up and turn to page two hundred and thirty nine.”

The room was filled with the sound of violently turning pages when Snape heard the Slytherins giggling in the corner. He turned to them with the same aggression. “That goes for you too!” A couple of them jumped in their seats before they too opened their books.

**~HP~**

Harry and his friends were among the first to leave the dungeon classroom, leading the way to the stairway up to the ground floor. Skin and robes dampened with sweat, they were all more than a bit eager to get back up to the fresh air. After being put in their places so sternly, they spent the remainder of the class brewing the Invigoration Draught. Some of their attempts ended in failure, though many managed to scrape by, Harry and Ron included. Hermione, of course, had produced a perfect potion with Rose not that far behind. In fact, the girls had finished a good fifteen minutes ahead of everyone else.

Snape’s attitude had not improved as the class went on. It seemed he had indeed returned to his cruel, sarcastic ways after all. Not only that, he had gotten worse! In one hour, he had personally insulted a fair number of people, and all four houses had lost points. Even Slytherin had lost ten points when Goyle burned a hole through the bottom of his cauldron.

They were barely out of the Potions room when Ron sighed loudly as he walked hand in hand with Hermione. He wiped perspiration from his forehead. “Merlin, what was that?”

“That, my friend, was possibly one of the most rigid Potions lessons we’ve sat through.” Harry shook his head with wide eyes.

“No kidding!” said Rose as she passed Harry. “I thought Neville had stopped breathing for a moment there, like Snape was going to take five points for an exhale during an instruction.”

“I can’t believe he took away points just because Dean coughed,” Hermione pouted. “Ridiculous! I mean, who would have thought that Seamus was right? Luna maybe, but not Seamus.”

“Sometimes things like that are too stupid to make up,” Rose suggested. “And besides, no one could have predicted Snape being that bad. Really, taking points for something as uncontrollable as a cough!”

“Maybe we just saw Snape at his lowest,” said Ron.

“Oh, I’d beg to differ!” Harry sighed.

Seamus and Dean came up behind the little group. “So, he’s a changed man, is he?” the Irishman said to Hermione as he passed by.

Hermione groaned. “Alright, perhaps I was wrong.” She swiped a hand through the air as her classmates dashed down the hall.

“Perhaps?” Ron laughed, pulling her in closer to his body.

“Alright, alright!” Hermione barked out for everyone to hear so she wouldn’t be made to repeat herself. “I was wrong and you were right. Are you happy now?”

Ron wrinkled his eyebrows. “I don’t know, is there a right answer to that question?”

“Well either way, we’re still screwed,” Harry rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he nodded in Rose’s direction. The ginger witch smiled and shrugged in agreement. “Ah Harry,” she said. “Now comes the part when we all buck up, bite our tongues, and deal with it.”

“I can do that,” said Harry. “But if you ask me, Snape should buck up and pull that stick out of his arse.”

“Yeah mate,” Ron agreed. “If he keeps at it like that, nobody will have a chance at the House Cup.”

“Oh Ron, don’t be silly,” Hermione playfully scolded.

“I’m with her on that one, Weasley,” said Rose.

“Harry, what is it about women that makes them agree about everything?” The little group laughed among themselves as they climbed the steps up to the ground floor.


	5. A hair trigger

Two miraculous weeks of glorious, miraculous sunshine had passed when a sudden, massive rainstorm swept through the Scottish countryside. It had announced itself to the Hogwarts population with a spectacular lighting show during dinner, and it became apparent as the night wore on that this would not be a quick little cloudburst. The loud, crashing thunder helped solidify that in everyone’s minds. While more than one of the First years went to bed missing their mothers, their older peers were haunted by the prospect of the terrible weather ahead of them. After all, when was a class ever cancelled on account of rain?

The storm continued on all through the night. And when the morning did finally come, the sun was blocked out by dark, foreboding clouds.

Severus awoke to the darkness that still filled his chambers. Any hopes of dozing off for a few more minutes were stolen away when he was overcome by the same nausea that had been plaguing him on and off for days. But this time, it was far worse than ever before. He grasped his stomach as his muscles clenched, preventing him from getting up. He did eventually manage to force himself up to sit on the side of the bed, but the pain did not let up. It held onto his insides with an iron-clad fist. Beads of sweat formed on his pale forehead as he attempted to breathe it away. But yet again, he had no such luck.

He looked up to watch the heavy raindrops beating against the window when he felt the room begin to spin. He felt woozy as he gripped his sheets, his heart racing. He also noticed an odd taste that seemed to suddenly appear, filling his mouth with saliva. Rumbles of thunder bounced off the castle walls.

Just then, a horrible burn shot up his throat. Severus bolted for the bathroom, his hand clasped over his mouth. The door crashed against the wall as he fell to his knees before the porcelain bowl. His thin arms wrapped around his torso as he gave up last night’s meal. With each retch, his throat burned and his eyes stung with forming tears. His whole body went stiff, surrendering to the vomiting, and all his muscles tensed with every agonizing spasm. When the heaving finally stopped, Severus fell back onto his behind, leaning his back against the bathtub.

He should have known this would happen. Two weeks of early morning nausea; he had to actually get sick eventually. But why did he have to hold on to that hope that he would be fine when clearly he was not?

A second wave of nausea forced him back over the toilet. Every dizzying spasm seemed to set his throat on fire. His eyes squeezed shut as he heaved, and he had no control over the tears that spilled down his face. The retching only stopped when there was nothing left in his stomach to give up. Severus rested his sweaty forehead against the brim of cool stone, desperately trying to stop himself from outright sobbing. There was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to be reduced to a blubbering mess again.

In time, his breath slowed as he calmed himself. Severus managed to force himself to his feet, grasping the sink for support. He rinsed out his mouth thoroughly with water; that revolting taste could end up making him sick again. As the waves seemed to have receded, Severus went about his ordinary business. He couldn’t even consider the thought of forgoing his classes in favor of lying in. In the past, he had been in far worse conditions and still had the strength and stubbornness to do his job. Who was he to let this keep him down?

**~HP~**

Dumbledore looked up as Severus slowly strode into the Great Hall. He was almost jolted by the younger man’s outward appearance. True, Severus never was the picture of perfect health. But this was something else entirely. The man was pale, far too pale. It almost looked like the life had been drained from his face and his expression subtly and unintentionally gave away that something was wrong. He also looked rather weak as he eased down into a chair in such a way that made Severus seem twice his relatively young age.

The headmaster watched as Severus reached for a measly piece of toast. But instead of nibbling at it like he had done for the past several mornings, Severus just let it sit on his plate, showing no interest in eating whatsoever. This disturbed Albus, but he knew better than to confront the Potions master with students nearby. Now if only other staff members could understand that as well as he did. Really, they ought to know Severus by now.

He noticed Remus walk in the side door and head over to an empty seat beside Severus. “Good morning, Severus,” he said as he sat down. The werewolf helped himself to a bowl of oatmeal. But when the smell wafted over to the pale Potions master, Severus turned his head away. His eyes were pressed shut.

“I thought that I made it quite clear to you, Lupin. No morning is tolerable enough to be called _good_.”

Remus tried to hide his offence behind a sip of coffee, and he piled a few slices of bacon onto his plate. “Now Severus, don’t you think that this is a bit absurd? You’ve been going at me since term began. Surely you know that we can’t go on like this forever.”

“Is that so?” Severus sneered. “I wonder if you ever passed such words of wisdom on to Black.”

“Sirius wasn’t much better than you, but that certainly didn’t stop me from trying.”

Remus waited for response, but Severus simply shook his head, his lip twitching. He leaned on the tabletop and rested his chin in his hand. The DADA professor decided that he would have to leave it alone for now. He briefly turned the other way to ask Flitwick for the nearest dish of butter. When he came back around to grab a bit of toast, he noticed the completely untouched slice on Severus’s plate. Then his eyes travelled up to his face.

“Oi, Severus, you look terrible!” he said. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Why would you care if I did or did not?”

“I’m sorry, but pardon my observation. Merlin’s beard, have you looked in a mirror today? You’re really pale.”

“That’s something new?” Severus’s sarcasm was biting and bitter even to Dumbledore, who continued to eavesdrop from his seat.

“No, I’m serious,” Remus urged. “You’re as white as a ghost. Are you feeling alright?”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

“Severus…” Remus warned.

The Potions master snarled, baring his teeth. “I’m as well as I can be. Now leave it at that, and it would be unwise to ask me again!” Severus raised his voice to the other teachers, who he suddenly noticed had taken to watching this quarrel from the relative safety of their seats. He saw Cassandra Wicker shrink back into her chair. He then turned his attention back to Remus with a cocked eyebrow.

“I apologize if you find my concerns annoying,” said Remus. “Unlike _some_ , I happen to care about the welfare of others.”

Severus glared at him, his dark eyes thinning into slits. “Your lying is no better than theirs.” Severus motioned to the students, blissfully and thankfully unaware of the conflict between the two professors.

Remus sighed with frustration, tapping the tabletop with one finger. “Alright Severus; if you are going to continue with being ridiculously difficult, then I suppose there’s not much I can do to change your mind. But if by chance you come around, my offer still stands. I’ll be around if you want to talk sometime, even if that’s just to vent about Harry.”

“A boy you would defend as if he were your own son!” Severus snapped, clenching his fist tightly. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Lupin. I am not your friend, and I never will be. So, if I were you, I would give up this pity parade while I still can.”

“Or what?” Remus dared to ask.

Severus turned to him, black eyes burning with utter aggravation. “Don’t try me, you mangy mutt. You wouldn’t want me to bring your son into this, would you?”

Quiet gasps were heard as Remus stared with wide eyes. He had heard from foul things muttered from the former Death Eater’s thin lips, but that was a whole new low that he was unprepared for. Severus, though still snarling, seemed satisfied with himself. The werewolf forced a little laugh. “You are a fine piece of work, you know? I try to show you a _little bit_ of kindness, and you want to bicker like we’re still fifteen years old. If anything, you ought to appreciate that people even want you in their company.”

“In case it’s missed you, I’ve gotten along alright on my own.”

“You’re still human though. Believe me Severus, there is only so long that a person can live like you do.” Remus crunched down on a slice of bacon.

Just then, Severus stood up, his breath suddenly getting deeper. The deathly pale shade of his face was replaced by a faint tint of green. Remus swallowed as he looked up with a wrinkled brow. “What? Is something wrong?” Concern began to creep back into his voice.

“No, I just remembered something I had to do.” Severus sounded a bit desperate as his eyes shifted about the room. “Excuse me.” He walked over to the side door, eyes following his every step. But as he pushed the door open to leave, he swallowed hard and his hand gravitated to his mouth. Then he dashed out into the hall and quickly disappeared.

Teachers all down the table were exchanging looks of confusion. More than a few heads turned to the headmaster, who was slowly shaking his head as he looked to the still-open door.

“Pardon my asking, but is Severus always like that?” asked Cassandra, tucking strands of brown hair behind her ear.

“Clearly, you don’t know Severus Snape, dear,” said Pomona Sprout, stirring a lump of sugar into her second cup of coffee.

“Well, I’ve heard that he wasn’t the most pleasant of wizards in Britain, but that was a bit more than I was expecting. Really Remus, how could he even consider threatening you with your young child?”

“Think of it this way, Cassandra. It’s not you,” said Remus. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“But he has been particularly nasty lately. You can’t deny that,” Flitwick pointed out. “Is it just me, or did he look like he was about to be sick for a moment there?”

“No Filius, I agree with you,” said Albus. “I do hope the poor boy is alright.” The headmaster was careful not to give away the depths of his concerns. He didn’t want to unintentionally bestow far too much unwanted attention on Severus. He turned to speak to Minerva, but he was surprised to find that she had vanished from her seat and the hall.

**~HP~**

Wiping his mouth on the cuff of his sleeve, Severus came out of the tiny bathroom at the far end of the staffroom. He let out a weak sigh as he clutched his stomach. That last bout of sickness had done very little to relieve him of this gut-twisting misery. He swallowed the saliva quickly filling his mouth and decided that he once again needed the Anti-nausea Potion he had stashed away in his office, more desperately now than ever. He started for the door, dark eyes skimming across the stone floor. But he stopped in his tracks when his gaze fell on the hem of a dark green dress. He slowly looked up until he found himself staring into the square glasses of Minerva McGonagall.

“So you’re fine, are you?” she said, crossing her arms.

Severus groaned; why did the old witch have to follow him and hear him retching? “Leave me alone, Minerva.”

“Severus, you can’t pretend that you’re alright when clearly you are not.”

“I can take care of myself.”

 Severus fell back into a low armchair next to the fireplace. Minerva crossed the room and sat down on a nearby sofa, facing the younger man. “I have my doubts about that,” she said. “How long have you been getting sick?”

“Since I got up this morning,” shrugged Severus.

“And other than this retching, is there anything else that I need to know about?”

“Since when were you my mother?”

Minerva rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I hardly consider this to be mothering. I merely want to ensure that you are well enough to teach.”

“If that’s all you are worried about, then you will be relieved to know that I have a potion in my office.”

“Alright Severus,” Minerva nodded. “But if you’re not well by tomorrow, I would advise you to see Poppy.”

“I don’t need Mediwitches,” Severus held a pale hand out to her. “I just have some kind of virus. It will pass, I’m sure.”

“If you say so,” Minerva shook her head. “But I can’t help but worry about you sometimes, Albus too. With all that’s happened here, we had hoped that you would settle easily back into a routine.”

“For your information, I have. I just have a great number of idiots to get around.”

“Remus means well,” said the elderly witch as she rested a hand on the Potions master’s knee. “And he means it when he says that he wants a better working relationship with you. He owes a lot to you, you know.”

“Not as much as he owes to Potter, and I don’t see him falling to his knees before him.”

“But even so, you shouldn’t be so harsh on him. I understand if you don't feel well, but that is no excuse to pick a fight. I agree with Remus; that was rather childish on your part.”

Severus groaned, despite himself. “Minerva, listen to me. You and Dumbledore seem determined to get everyone involved in this postwar joy that the world greatly desires. But did either of you consider where I came from, what I went through?” He gave Minerva a moment to answer, but found the room still uncomfortably filled with silence. “I didn’t think so. You Gryffindors are all the same. You all want life to return to some sense of normalcy in the blink of an eye. Those simpering brats are no better. Don’t think that I haven’t noticed Potter, Granger, and their ginger shadows parading around the school, walking examples of such nonsense. But you should know by now that I want no part in that.”

“You never fail to puzzle me, Severus,” said Minerva. “If you want no part, then why did you return to your post?” It was a question that she had been meaning to ask him since the afternoon Albus sent her a letter telling her about the younger wizard’s acceptance.

“Did you think that I would let the Dark Lord drive me away from society? I’m like any wizard on the street; I need to make a living and – as too many have so annoyingly put it – get on with my life. But I don’t need to be hassled by you, Lupin, or anyone else. My life has been difficult enough without people trying to force themselves down my throat. For the sake of my sanity, please don’t coddle me.”

Minerva was taken aback by the quiet begging. Her brow wrinkled in utter sympathy. It was obvious to her that Severus had been in poor health for quite some time, that morning aside. She knew this when she saw him on the first night of the new term, the first time she had seen him since late May. He had more than enough time to heal up after such a harrowing ordeal, and it disturbed her that he still looked so tired and peaky. The old woman would also have to be deaf to not notice the whispers about his unusually short temper. And yet it took a weak, almost desperate plea for Minerva to really understand the weight of Severus’s situation.

She sighed as she leaned forward to gently pat a white hand. “I’m sorry, Severus,” she said. She didn’t want to get into any grave detail; it would only irritate Severus more to have to put up with what he would deem to be senseless pity. But still, given his current state, she felt a compulsion to try to provide the Potions master with a little help. “I can tell Remus to leave you alone, if that is what you want.”

Severus snarled, however feebly, as he eased up out of the chair. “I don’t need you to handle my personal affairs. If anyone is going to tell Lupin to bugger off, it’s going to be me.”

As Minerva rose from her seat, she realized that the color had begun to drain out of Severus’s face again. He wrapped an arm around his torso, taking deep breaths in. The elderly witch tapped him on the shoulder. “I believe you should go take that potion of yours.”

Severus’s eyes quickly shifted to her before he nodded. He turned to the door, but before he could exit the room and escape back to his dungeon hideout, Minerva spoke up. “But I’m quite serious. If this goes on much longer, you should see Poppy.” She heard Severus growl deep in his throat as he disappeared out the door. Minerva sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

 For everyone’s sake, she hoped that the answer to this little mess was as simple as an Anti-nausea Potion.

**~HP~**

The Golden Trio walked through the halls together, headed for the dungeons. All three had the same expression of glum lethargy painted on their faces. It hadn’t been the brightest of days, in more ways than one. The last few hours had been plagued by stacks of homework, boring lessons, and torrential rain. The break after lunch had been a godsend, even to Hermione, who saw it as an opportunity to jump ahead in her Arithmancy reading while Ron and Harry napped in the common room.

The three of them took their time walking down to the castle’s lower levels. They knew of a shorter way to get down there, but that shortcut would take them outside across the courtyard. With the sudden downpours that had been routinely passing through, it would not be the best of ideas to consider that route. Though the rain had momentarily stopped, the risk of walking into Snape’s classroom completely drenched was a risk that none of them were willing to take.

At the base of the stairs on the ground floor, they came across a hassled looking Rose furiously reading over a long roll of parchment. Seeing Rose’s delicate handwriting through the back of the paper, they all recognized that this was the essay that McGonagall had assigned them two days before. They also knew that it was late. Rose looked up and groaned as her friends approached her.

Rose had not been having the greatest of days. In fact, she could describe that dark, stormy Wednesday as bloody awful. To her, it seemed like everything she did just made her life more stressed and chaotic. It might have been her fault she was miserable, but that wasn’t going to stop her from blaming the world. After procrastinating on the Transfigurations assignment, Rose had been forced to stay up until four in the morning to write it, but still left it unfinished. She had fallen asleep at breakfast, and was rudely awakened by Peeves pelting her in the head with what turned out to be a stray walnut. As the morning progressed, Rose developed a massive headache, likely brought on by her sleep deprivation. But it was no ordinary headache; it was dull yet so violently throbbing. The pain was so bad that when they were in Charms, it affected her concentration, and Rose was unable to perform the required spells. This made Flitwick deduct ten points from Gryffindor. The same thing happened in Muggle Studies when Professor Wicker caught her trying to finish her essay rather than paying attention to the lesson. And when she found herself in Transfigurations, she lost ten more points for her continued inability to perform magic caused by her head pain. And after all that, her essay was still not finished. McGonagall decided to give her until the end of classes to hand it in, warning her of the credit she had already lost. Rose had disappeared after that class, choosing to spend lunchtime in the library, sacrificing a good meal for a measly apple. And using the additional break, still nursing her terrible aches, Rose managed to finish the paper. Now she held it in her hands, and now she just wanted to be rid of it.

Rose quickly rolled up the parchment and leaned against the wall. Harry leaned up next to her, looking at the roll in her hands. “So you finally finished it, did you?” he said with a smirk.

“Shove off, Harry,” Rose groaned, rubbing her forehead.

“How’s your head feeling?” asked Ron.

“Like it’s been trampled by a hippogriff,”

Hermione winced as she stepped forward. “Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey, let her give you something.”

“No time for that. I’ll make a potion tonight if it doesn’t get any better.” Rose leaned down to pick up her bag, heavy with books. She kept a controlled grip on the scroll in her hand.

“Well, look who it is! Barmy Beckett!” A shrill voice pierced the air in the hall. Rose’s roll of parchment suffered some abuse as she looked up to glare back at Pansy Parkinson, who had just appeared on the arm of Draco Malfoy.

“What do you want, Parkinson?” Rose’s soft voice became a low snarl, the same snarl she had taken on a number of times that day.

“What could I possibly want from _you_ , a stupid little half-blood?” Pansy let go of Malfoy’s arm and stalked over to the little group, stopping when she was mere inches away from Rose’s face. “You’ve got some nerve to even show your face around here after how you shamed yourself in class. You were so bloody awful, it’s a wonder they even let you back into this school. You’ve been hanging around Muggles much too long.”

“You ever hear of having a bad day, you prejudiced bi –,”

“Hey, that’s enough!” Harry forced himself between the two young women, cutting Rose off and blocking her with his arm. “Leave her alone, Parkinson. Stay away from us,” he said to Pansy in his sternest voice. He gently pushed her away from Rose.

“Hands off, Potter!” Malfoy came charging towards them and yanked Pansy out of Harry’s reach “Don’t you dare touch my girl,” he commanded.

“Oh yeah, anything you say Malfoy,” Harry answered, viciously sarcastic.

Hermione looked at Pansy with a stare so threatening, it was unnerving to her fellow Gryffindors. The pug-faced Slytherin didn’t seem to take her seriously in the least. “You think that you scare me, Granger?”  But she still backed off. She began to walk back to her waiting boyfriend. “You know that you won’t always have Potter around to defend you. And when he’s gone off to better things, what then will you be? Nothing!” They started off down the stairs.

Rose crushed her essay even more before pressing a pale hand to her throbbing head. “Ooh, I want to hurt someone so badly,” she growled, more to herself.

“Ignore her,” Hermione told Rose, watching the damage that she was inflicting on her homework. “She’s just a bitch who wants to kick people when their down.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I could have taken her with my hands tied behind my back.” She shifted her tired eyes to look at Harry, a rather weak threat by anyone’s standard.

“Ah Rose,” sighed Ron. “You’re having a rotten day as it is. The last thing you need is to rub Parkinson the wrong way.”

Harry glanced to the stairs that the two Slytherins had descended. “I think for her and Malfoy, we do that just by breathing.”

Hermione looked down at her watch and saw that they only had ten minutes before Potions. She advised the others that it was a good idea to get walking. But when they reached the stairwell, Rose turned away to walk upstairs. Hermione of course was the first to notice.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Where do you think? I’m going up to hand over this bloody essay.” Rose turned around to look at her friends.

“Do you think that you’ll make it to Potions in time?” Harry also turned with a concerned wrinkle in his forehead.

“I dunno, but I’ll sure try.” Rose turned back up, the crumpled roll of parchment still in hand. “I’ll be there in a bit, just get going.”

“But you know how Snape feels about us being late. And you heard about how he’s been testy today. Do you really want to lose more house points?”

“Like I said, Ron, I’ll get there as fast as I can.” Then as though she wished her feet would grow wings, Rose sprinted up the steps, leaving her three friends in the dust.

**~HP~**

Snape paced back and forth across his office, his arms crossed across his torso. Every so often, he would look up at the clock to watch another minute pass. How he longed for the end of the day to come! He was thoroughly exhausted, his body ached, and his Anti-nausea Potion had stopped working an hour ago. His stomach gave a slow turn every time he glanced up at time ticking by at a snail’s pace. And each time he thought about that day’s lesson for the Seventh years only made him wonder if throwing up again would help. Severus briefly considered giving into his illness and cancelling his last classes, but further thought reminded him that he couldn’t quit that easily. Besides, this was the Seventh years he was dealing with. Of all the students, they were the last ones he wanted to show even the faintest trace of weakness. 

The clock struck two, making Severus roll his eyes. He walked back to his desk and grabbed the glass of water he had sitting there. He tilted his head back, swallowing the last drops. He stalked over to the closed door with a shake of his head.

_‘Merlin help me…’_

Snape walked out of his office and went right over to his desk. He reached into his robes and grabbed his wand. Sitting down in his hard, wooden chair, he cast a charm on the door. It swung open and stopped short of the wall. The Seventh years all filed in and took their seats, the last one in shutting the door. All of them, even those of Slytherin, were all strangely quiet. Ordinarily, their faces would betray that they had other things on their minds. But instead, they looked at him with pure attention and obedience. Apparently, they had been hearing talk from their younger counterparts again, acutely wary of his _particularly_ foul mood.

As he observed the class, he noticed the empty seat next to a rather tense Hermione Granger. He ran through the roster in his head, and he came to realize that it was Rosella Beckett who was missing. He sighed; he should have expected this from her eventually. He quickly made a mental note to take off ten points when she actually showed up, or twenty points if she didn’t show up at all.

“Good afternoon,” he addressed the class. “Turn to page four hundred and six, we shall be discussing –,”

He was cut off by the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wall. He looked up, as did the students. There in the door stood Rose. Her robes looked doused and her hair was dripping slightly. Her books and parchment were damp. The silly girl had obviously gotten caught in the rain. Snape heard some half-ass snickers from the back of the room. He was tempted to laugh himself, but he decided to spare her that. He had other ideas for dealing with her tardiness.

“How nice of you to join us, Miss Beckett,” he said to the sopping Gryffindor, making the other students giggle.

“My apologies, Professor, I had other things to attend to. I didn’t mean to be late,” Rose said, trying to explain herself.

“And why, might I ask, are you soaking wet?”

“I…uh…took a shortcut to get down here faster. I thought I could beat the rain…I was wrong.” Most of the students, Gryffindors included, were now openly laughing at their classmate.

“Silence,” Snape ordered. The class quieted down. “Miss Beckett, quite frankly, I don’t really care if you had other priorities. You should know by now that there is no excuse for lateness. See to it that it doesn’t happen again. Ten points from Gryffindor. Now sit down and turn to page four hundred and six.” He turned back to the board.

Rose, now quite red-faced with obvious embarrassment, quietly tip-toed her way over to the table where Hermione waited and sat down. She set her books onto the desk top. But before she opened up her Potions book, she pulled a red ribbon from her pocket and tied back her long red hair. Snape saw this out of the corner of his eye. Rose had done that every day at the start of Potions class since the second week of her first year, when she accidentally set her hair on fire while brewing a rather simple potion. Since then, she had taken every precaution to make sure it never happened again. She even did that when they weren’t going to be brewing anything in class; she just couldn’t risk it. From what Snape had heard from among the students, Rose just couldn’t bear with the thought of having lopsided ends for another year. And that apparently was doubly so now, when her hair was at its longest and, as Rose herself put it, in its prime. Snape held back a gag at the idea.

The lesson was the first of many to do with Medical Potions. The only noise that cut through the thick, humid air was the scratching of quills on parchment and the only voice to be heard was Snape’s. Though the class remained quiet and attentive, Snape knew better than to believe that they were remotely interested. It had just finally clicked that this was how they were supposed to behave. But there was a part of Severus that actually wanted one of them to be stupid enough to slip up. Head pounding and stomach churning, his irate soul was screaming to be unleashed. He struggled to maintain his calm, cold demeanor. Had this been any other day, he would have taken his discomfort and frustrations out on Potter or Longbottom. But he couldn’t muster up enough cruelty and loathing for that. He had already done and said everything possible to those boys. He questioned himself for such boredom and wondered if he should go and lie down.

He turned and let his eyes travel across the room, passing over the Slytherins as always. He once again caught sight of the Beckett girl. The young Gryffindor was slowly and sluggishly flipping through the pages of her book, not paying a bit of attention. Every now and then, she would quickly write something down, but not before looking over at Granger’s notes. Snape felt the burn of rage in his gut. This girl had always been so attentive in his classes. She actually seemed to have a better grip on the subject than many of her classmates. And yet here she was, looking and acting like she couldn’t give a damn about what he had to say. He withheld the desire to snarl. If there was one thing Snape hated more than students who were late, it was students who blatantly didn’t care. He had to get her for this, purge this lazy rebellion from her being. But she too had already witnessed and been subjected to the things he had done in the past. He had to catch her while he guard was down.

That’s when he got an idea. It was an old idea, but it had proven useful and satisfying in days gone by. It was what Horace Slughorn used to do to students who let their minds wander in class. Snape had watched the old man embarrass the hell out of Sirius Black many times before. He hadn’t tried it for himself, but there is a first time for everything.

“Students,” he barked. The class looked up with curious eyes. “Before we continue with the lesson, you must know that by this point in your education, you should be able to retrieve information at any given moment. Therefore, as a review for your upcoming NEWTs, I would like to ask you a few questions.”

The Students suddenly perked up, no doubt seeing this as an opportunity to try and win some house points from the miserable bastard. “For example, who can identify the three main properties of Asphodel?” Hands shot up across the room. Pansy Parkinson was straining her arm, while Granger was bouncing in her seat. But Snape ignored all of them. He already had his target.

“How about you, Miss Beckett?”

Rose was jolted out of La-La-land by Snape’s inquiry. Mentally exhausted, she had not been following the conversation and missed the question. She blushed a deep pink as she looked around and saw that all eyes were on her. “Um…I’m sorry, sir…what was the question?” she asked, resigning to the snickering.

“Tell me, what are the three main properties of Asphodel?”

Rose froze where she sat, trying her hardest to think against the pain in her head. But the effort was in vain. She couldn’t recall the answer. She definitely knew it, but it was lost in the battlefield that was her mind. Asphodel had many components that made it a very useful ingredient. But what the hell were the three crucial ones?

_‘Damn!’_ She looked up with a little shame. “I… I’m sorry Professor. I don’t know.”

Snape raised his eyebrows. He had heard talk from other professors about how the girl had been having trouble the entire day; wrong answers, bad spells, and late homework. But he had been surprised at her here, a class that was supposedly one of her best. Aside from the burning hair incident, she had been quite capable in the craft. She might have been able to recite that answer in her sleep. And yet, though a sliver of his conscience was disappointed in her, she was vulnerable. He had her!

“Well then, how about this? Name four different potions in which Wormwood is a key ingredient, not counting the Draught of the Living Dead.”

Again, Rose struggled to come up with the answer. Four? She knew of three… alright two, but four?! She would have had to have read ahead in this year’s syllabus. She noticed that next to her, Hermione again had her hand up. Naturally, she read ahead. And apparently, so did several others. But Snape didn’t pay them any notice. He kept his deep, black eyes locked on her. The trouble however was that with Snape, it was a full answer, or no answer at all.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but again, I don’t know.”

“What a pity,” Snape’s low voice was laced with sarcasm. “Why don’t you try again? According to Fleuriste’s studies, what is the most functional of flowers found in Muggle gardens?”

Rose rapidly searched her mind; she knew this one! “The…the marigold?”

“No, that is incorrect. Rather pathetic, really. It was only three years ago that you could recall that at the drop of a hat. You’re losing your touch, I’m afraid. Can you tell what is more important in the creation of the Wit-Sharpening Potion, the ingredients or the brewing instructions?”

Rose rubbed at her temples. This confusion and frustration was killing her, and her face betrayed that. She just shook her head at the Potions master. Snape shook his head in return; this was completely unacceptable for a student of her age and experience. He sighed. “Well Miss Beckett; you, I must say, are an embarrassment to this craft. But surely you know this. What reverses the toxicity of Monkshood?”

Now, Rose was filled with a silent rage. She didn’t even want to torture herself by trying to remember that answer. “For the last time, Professor, I don’t know,” she said, far more sternly.

“Come now, Miss Beckett. That was common knowledge.”

“Maybe to you!”

There were quiet gasps as some of the students began to fidget in their seats, mouths agape. Snape stood at the front of the class with wide eyes. He had not expected such an outburst and was rather shocked. He felt his own anger growing as he looked at the ginger girl’s unremorseful face. “Excuse me, Miss Beckett?” he asked, trying to control this building tension.

“What is common knowledge to you may not be to some of us,” Rose explained as though she were speaking to an idiot.

“You are a Seventh year student. You should have been perfectly capable of answering every one of those questions.”

“Well,” Rose narrowed her eyes as she glared at Snape. “I’m sorry if I’m not the perfect student. I’m sorry if I can’t answer your terrifically random questions. But correct me if I’m wrong. Was this not meant to be a review? And if it was, wouldn’t that mean asking others besides me? Hermione could have answered every single one of those. Hell, _Neville_ could have given you a right answer at some point. Why are you only asking me?”

Snape had his jaws clamped shut behind his lips; the witch was beginning to get at him. “You don’t have the right to question what I do.”

Rose leaned back in her chair, intentionally looking away. She huffed in frustration, and then looked back at Snape, who was still glaring at her from behind curtains of greasy hair. “I understand, this is because I was late,” she almost laughed. “I already apologized, but if you feel like punishing me further, then go ahead. Ask another question.”

Snape was inwardly snarling. The daft girl was asking for it! “Very well, Miss Beckett. What is the proper action to be taken when faced with the Flagrante curse?”

Rose coughed on her own breath, taken aback and completely confused. “Professor Snape, what the hell does that have to do with Potions?”

“Language, Miss Beckett. So that’s five more points from Gryffindor.” He heard groans from every one of the Gryffindors, who directed their aggravation at Rose.

“Please sir, if you’re going to ask me questions, would you kindly stay on the subject?”

Alright, now the brat was challenging him. For a bright girl, she was a shining example of stupidity. But if she was going to mess with Snape, then Snape was going to mess with her. He thought hard. “As you wish. Name two ingredients in the Polyjuice Potion.”

“Lacewing flies and Fluxweed.”

Snape sighed. “Yes,”

There was some meager applause from others, giving Rose a smug look of pride. Finally, she got one right! She hoped that the greasy git would finally back off, but she had no such luck.

“Hmm, if you are so sure of yourself, then name all of the ingredients _and_ the brewing instructions.” Snape crossed his arms across his chest. That was a trick question. Even if she did know all of that, she would have gotten the information illicitly.

Rose propped herself up on the desk, no readable emotion in her pale face. Then she took a deep breath and began speaking. Her voice hoarse from prolonged aggravation, she went on for what seemed like an hour, clearly naming herbs and other oddities, and giving fairly exact instructions. Impressive for a school banned potion. There was just one problem; it was not the Polyjuice Potion she was describing. And Snape felt as though his head would burst when he realized what Rose _was_ describing. She had just laid out the making of Bubble Juice. This peculiar concoction, not to be confused with the Muggle substance used as a toy by children, had no use to a wizard except to induce a hallucinatory state, and a terrifically risky one at that. It had been said that the addicting potion was known to make the drinker feel invincible and lighter than air. Highly toxic in large doses, Bubble Juice had been declared illegal in all British Wizarding establishments after a string of deaths in the 1970s. It was also common knowledge that an underage wizard found in possession of the drug-like potion would be punished even more severely.

And here, Snape thought, was an eighteen year-old witch who knew exactly how to make it.

Snape was nearly blinded by his rage as Rose looked at him with revolting pride. She smiled at Granger, who looked positively horrified. She turned her attention back to the Potions master. “Miss Beckett, do you have any idea what you have just said?” Snape hissed through gritted teeth.

“If you mean by how I described the wrong potion, which happens to be banned, for all to hear, then yes!” Rose threw Snape a mocking smile.

The angry Potions master found himself gripping the edge of his desk. It was talking everything he had to keep his hand off of his wand. The tension was also beginning to irritate his stomach again. What had he gotten himself into?

He looked up to the rest of the class to see that every single one of them, with the exception of Smart-arse and the Dream team, was feverishly scribbling on parchment. He could already guess that they were desperately trying to write down what Rose had said while it was still fresh in their memories. Growling, he stormed over to Draco and grabbed his notes from his hand. A quick glance confirmed his suspicions. He sneered at the blonde before moving to Parkinson and ripping her scribbles off the desktop.

Snape then proceeded to confiscate the instructions from all of his students. Collecting the papers in his hands, he took off five points from everyone, even his coddled Slytherins. After all, he didn’t want his house to think that they could get away with brewing, using, or selling the retched stuff. In addition to the loss of house points, every young man received a not-so-gentle smack to the back of their head. Harry enjoyed the chance to watch Snape hit Malfoy for a change until he too felt the brunt force of Snape’s stack of papers. He rubbed his head as Ron was whacked beside him.

“Professor, what was that for?!” exclaimed Ron.

“We didn’t write anything!” Harry also protested.

“Do you think that matters to me?” Lucky for Snape, both Potter and Weasley had nothing more to say. Papers in hand, he stormed back up to his desk. He stuffed the pile into a drawer, slammed it shut, and charmed it. He would get rid of those later. He turned back to Rose.

“If you like, I can tell you everything you need to know about brewing Amortentia, because I can do that too.”

“Quiet,” Snape snarled. “Miss Beckett, I have not the slightest idea how you acquired this information. But why did you feel the need to share it with me?”

“Well sir, you’ve asked me so many questions I didn’t know. I just thought I should tell you something that I do know.”

“What you do know is completely irrelevant and unlawful. And if you are as clever as you think you are, you will do well to forget it.”

“Fair enough Professor,” Rose was smug again. “Please continue to indulge us in your vast and mostly useless knowledge. Come sir, ask me another question.”

That did it. In that moment, Snape’s loathing for the Beckett girl rivaled that for Potter. He was thoroughly fed up with her mouthing off at him. Oh, he had a question for her! He stalked over to her desk and stared down his nose at her.

“How’s your father?”

For a brief moment, Rose appeared shocked and offended. But then her face melted into anger, and her eyes burned with rage. “I don’t know. But then again, you’ve probably seen him more recently than I have.”

Snape’s stomach turned. She had some nerve, that stubborn bitch! Snape had been pestered and snapped at by students before, but none had been able to come anywhere close to the snark of Rose Beckett. She hadn’t overstepped her boundaries; she passed them by a long way’s behind. Now he had to put an end to this and put the young Gryffindor back in her place. He leaned down and planted his hands on the desktop, his face mere inches away from Rose.

“You just don’t care, do you?” he sneered. “None of this matters anymore. Gone are the days of the diligent young girl. To think that I had the audacity to believe you had what it takes to be a great witch. But perhaps I was wrong after all. Oh, how the mighty have fallen! You are like every other Gryffindor I have had the misfortune to encounter. You mistake your arrogance for cleverness. I don’t know what convinced you otherwise, but your little performance is inexcusable. I already know what you will try and say, _“Oh Professor Snape, it’s only one off day. Give me a break, I’m only human.”_ You think you can have a little trouble from time to time. You think you can allow yourself some slack, no harm done. But you know what? Your father thought the same thing. He left school with barely the skin off his teeth. Right now, I see him in you, a lazy, disrespectful lost cause. I’ll bet you have big plans for the future. Well, here’s a wakeup call. You cannot live like an adult if you cannot behave like one. If you continue on as you are today, you will fail this class, fail your NEWT exam, and crush the little hopes and dreams you came here looking for. Now, do you have anything else to say?”

Rose stonewalled him, her freckled cheeks burning red. Her eyes glazed over as she took deep breaths in. She was mortified beyond belief, but she wasn’t going to sit there and take it in silence. She felt a sudden surge of fury rush through her whole body. “That might be true, but at least I don’t abandon others to save my own tired arse!”

Snape backed away, eyes and mouth wide open. The dungeon was filled with gasps and panicked whispers. Did Rose just call Snape out? They all froze in their seats, visions of horror flashing through their minds. Ron thought to himself about how Rose should take a nice good look around the room, as it might be the last thing she would see.

“What?!” Snape said through gritted teeth.

“You heard what I said!” said Rose, straightening her back. “What? No comment?”

Snape clenched his hands into fists, his bony knuckles turning white. “How dare you?!” he growled.

“Oh, I do!” Rose stood up from her seat. She yanked out the red ribbon, her damp hair falling around her shoulders. “And there’s plenty more where that came from!”

“You ungrateful little brat!” shouted Snape.

“And you’re a foul, loathsome, cowardly bastard!”

The entire class froze, too alarmed to give anymore muffled commentary. They simply watched as Rose gathered her books and threw her bag over shoulder. She gave one last vicious look to the Potions master before starting for the door.

“If you walk out that door –,” Snape started, but before he could finish his threat, Rose screamed out, “ _GO FUCK YOURSELF!_ ” She slammed the door behind her.

Every student looked to the door with shock and panic, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Even Malfoy held an expression that could have been taken as fear. Eyes shifted back to Snape. The Potions master’s face had suddenly gone a ghostly white, a hand firmly pressed to his head while his other arm wrapped tightly around his torso. His anger barely concealed the anguish going on deep inside him. He took several shaky breaths before shooting a look of certain death at the old wooden door. He turned away, letting his hands reach into his robes. He heard someone, probably Longbottom, panic and whisper loudly, “He’s going for his wand!” Before he could snap his head around, he heard the screeching of stools on stone. He turned around to see that many students had ducked under their desks.

“Get up!” he bellowed. As the students began to rise again, Snape stomped over to his closed office door. He kicked it open and yelled out, “Three hundred points from Gryffindor!”

The angry lions stood and yelled in protest. “You can’t do that!” Parvati squealed.

“Sir, we only have two hundred!” shouted Seamus.

“I don’t care! Three hundred points!” Snape stood in his office doorway for a moment, and then roared, “Class dismissed!” He slammed the door so hard, bottles rattled on tabletops.

For a long, drawn out moment, the class had no idea what to do. Never before had they been basically abandoned mid-lesson. They exchanged confused, desperate glances, the only sound breaking their collective silence was their shallow, nervous breathing. Finally, Blaise Zabini rose up and broke the stillness.

“Well…I don’t know about any of you, but I’m getting out of here before he decides to come out.”

He gathered up his belongings and left with a running start. Sometime after, Malfoy got up and left, followed by Goyle and Parkinson. Everybody took that as a definite sign that the best idea was to leave while they still could. The remaining Slytherins, along with the Ravenclaws and the few Hufflepuffs, left in a great hurry. They left behind the famous trio and the other Gryffindors.

“Hey, I think we should leave too,” said Neville. “Only Merlin knows what Snape will do when he gets out here.”

“If he’s going to do anything, he’s going to go look for Rose,” said Harry, his words grim as though he regretted saying that.

“He’s not going to find her because I’m going to find her first,” said Seamus, quite angry.

“What?”asked Ron.

“She’s going to get it for that,” Seamus answered.

“Yeah!” Dean Thomas jumped in. “She cost us three hundred points, along with all the rest she’s lost today. We ought to kill her for that!”

“Dean, you don’t really mean that,” said Harry, trying to talk down his classmates. “She didn’t exactly do anything truly horrific to anyone.”

“Harry, they’re right,” Neville interrupted. “Rose has been causing us trouble all day. Because of her, we have _NEGATIVE_ points! We can’t let her get away with this.”

The boys gathered their books and stood up. Seamus then took charge. “Alright guys, after our last class, meet in the common room. I’ll spread the word to everyone else. Then, we’re going on a witch hunt!”

They started out. “Right, she couldn’t have gone too far,” said Dean. The conversation faded as they walked out of the door into the dungeon halls. Harry noticed Parvati running after him, hopefully to try and talk some sense into them. The three remaining Gryffindors felt a wave of slight panic wash over all of them.

“Hey guys, I don’t think they’re kidding,” Ron squeaked.

“Ron’s right, they probably do want to do something awful to Rose,” Hermione added. “Harry, what are we going to do?”

Harry thought for a very long second before saying, “We go on a witch hunt.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?! Rose is our friend!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to stay quiet enough so that Snape didn’t hear her from inside his office.

“My point exactly, Hermione,” Harry explained. “Since we know her better, we have a better chance of finding her. We just have to find her before the others do.”

“Harry,” Ron interrupted. “We have to find her before _Snape_ finds her. We could save her life.”

“Yes, I know.” Harry realized the potential danger of having one very angry Severus Snape finding Rose. “We’ll find her…I know! We have to get a head start on everyone else. Hermione, go to Arithmancy and do whatever you can to get out of class. Ron and I will go talk to Remus, give him a heads up. We’ll wait for you on the fifth floor, near the empty classrooms. Then we can start from there.”

Harry ignored the distressed look in Hermione’s eyes at the thought of missing a class for no legitimate reason. He quickly reminded her that she would have to take one for the team to help their cranky, rampaging friend. Ron tried to give her a few bogus excuses to use as they rapidly gathered their things and escaped the dungeon classroom. Hermione, however, shot most of them down. After all, Septima Vector was not a daft woman. There was no way that she would buy a story of how Hermione had to go claim responsibility for turning someone’s skin green.

**~HP~**

The double class of Third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws arrived forty five minutes later to find a roll of parchment tacked up to the door of the Potions classroom. The notice told them that class had been cancelled, and that they should all report to the library for the remainder of the class period. They all breathed a sigh of relief that their last class of the day had been called off, though some were relieved for other reasons. Only a few of them knew what had happened, overhearing the angry whispers from their Gryffindor counterparts. This left them to fill in their housemates. It would only be a matter of hours before the entire school would know the tragically funny tale, avoiding Snape at all cost and following the hunt for Rose Beckett.

**~HP~**

Severus sat in the dark armchair in front of his desk, propping his head up in his hands. He had spent nearly thirty minutes in a fit of rage that he hadn’t known in a long while. Even though he had somewhat calmed down by then, his heart still raced as his head pounded like he was being repeatedly hit by a Bludger. He also felt rather weak, though that most likely had to do with the fact that his extreme agitation had caused him to throw up yet again. He was waiting for his second dose of Anti-nausea Potion to kick in.

He looked down at the floor. It was littered with shattered glass and broken bottles, a mess of potions and ingredients scattered everywhere in between. Such damage was thanks to a number of wandless, unspoken hexes, as well as Severus’s own hands. But he couldn’t even think about cleaning up his office. He had enough on his mind without a meager task like that. And even in his calm state of mind, that certainly did not mean that he was ready to let go of the fiasco that was his last class. He used his momentary quiet to solidify his response to that incredible act of disrespect.

Stepping over the shards, Severus quietly walked into his empty classroom. He looked around at the empty desks, his obsidian eyes falling on one in particular. He then reached into his billowing robes and grabbed hold of his wand. Just as his _brilliant_ students had predicted, Severus had only one thing on his mind. He had to find that blasted girl and see to it that she paid dearly for the things she said.

He opened his hand, letting his dark wand rest in his palm. “Point me to Rosella Beckett,” he said in a deep, scratchy voice.

Slowly but surely, his wand spun in his hand until it settled again, pointing in an eastward direction. The tip of his wand also began to glow with a deep blue light. He had to admit his gratitude to whoever made those improvements to the Point-me Charm. While his wand would continuously point him to his target, the tip would also go from blue to bright red as he got closer.

His face tense with determination, Severus walked over to the door and pushed it open. And then, wand hand extended, he began his hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave comments and kudos.


	6. Witch hunt

Hermione paced outside the open door of a long disused classroom, her conscious laden with stress and guilt. She had managed to successfully get out of Arithmancy on the bogus grounds that she was ill and needed to see the nurse. It killed her to do it, but she had no choice. Thank Merlin for that brief moment of understanding by Professor Vector. That woman was almost impossible to lie to, and Hermione knew it far too well.

She looked at her watch, trying to calm her nerves. Where the hell were those boys? Surely they hadn’t accepted an offer for quiet tea from Professor Lupin. It was Harry’s bloody idea to go on this search. They should have been up here first.

Hermione’s rapid heart skipped a bit when she heard hasty footsteps coming down the hall. She was ready to dive into the dark, dusty room when Harry and Ron came around the corner, gasping for air after running up the steps like they had an angry dragon on their tail. Harry leaned against the wall while Ron doubled over and took deep, gaping breaths. “Days when I’m so glad that we dropped Divination,” he croaked. “I never would have been able to run from all the way up there.”

“Especially not after second-hand incense smoke,” Harry added.

“Enough of that, you two,” Hermione snapped.

“Yes, yes, alright.” Harry quickly composed himself. “Now to find Rose. Remus said that he hasn’t seen her since this morning. Hermione, did you see any sign of her on your way upstairs?”

“No, I ran into Parvati and Lavender and they said they hadn’t heard from her at all. But I don’t think Rose would bother going to Divination after that. I don’t even think she knows just how much trouble she’s in.”

“Then why would she feel the need to hide?” asked Ron.

Hermione shrugged, her eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, if anything, I suppose she thinks Snape is coming after her.”

“Right, let’s just think,” sighed Harry. “Where would be the first place Rose would go if she wanted to get away from people?”

“Wherever she went, it had to be someplace that neither Snape nor the others would know about,” said Ron. The three of them were quiet, totally immersed in thought. Ron continued. “Hermione, Rose is your roommate.”

“Brilliant Ronald,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that you know her on a different level than we do. Try to think like her. If you were her, where would you go if you knew you were being chased by a few angry dunderheads and a slightly unstable teacher?”

Hermione pondered again, trying to recall anything Rose might have mentioned to her over the course of seven years. Finally, she snapped her fingers. “The Muggle Studies classroom! She used to go there all the time while on her breaks from class. And she’s been telling me how well she’s been getting on with Professor Wicker. She could have gone there to hide for a little while.”

“That’s too obvious,” Ron shook his head.

“Ron’s right,” Harry agreed. “And there’s also a class in there right now. I doubt she used to spend her free time sitting in on another lesson. And besides, Wicker wouldn’t be able to protect her for long. She’s just too new here. She wouldn’t stand a chance against Snape.”

“Think boys,” Hermione bit out. “We have to think of the unlikeliest of places.”

“What about Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?” Ron asked.

“That certainly is unlikely,” said Hermione. “But it’s a start.”

They all bolted for the stairwell and swiftly made their way down the marble steps. They tried their absolute best not to make noise as they ran, and Hermione was constantly looking around. She didn’t want to take the chance of also being caught out of class, never mind Rose. In no time, the little group closed in on the infamous out-of-order loo. They crept in, Hermione taking one last look around the corridor. Sure enough, Myrtle was floating about above the cubicles, wailing on and on about doom and gloom or whatever her problem was. Harry stepped forward and cleared his throat. The ghostly student whirled around, and her bleak features faded into something soft.

“Oh, hello Harry,” Myrtle said in her quieter, gentler voice as opposed to the harsh shrill she was so known for. “What are you doing out of class? Being a bad boy, aren’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” Harry started bluntly. “Myrtle, has anyone else been in here today?”

“No, you three are the first ones I’ve seen in a long while.”

“Are we?” asked Hermione. “Then I take it you haven’t seen a friend of ours then?”

“Which one?” asked Myrtle, tilting her head to the side.

“Have you heard of a girl called Rose Beckett?” Hermione clarified. “She’s about my height, red hair, blue eyes, Gryffindor?”

“Snappy sarcasm at times?” asked Myrtle.

“You’ve heard of her?!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh yes,” Myrtle floated down to hover next to Harry, just a little too close for comfort. “She’s only come in here twice before. Two years ago, I think. And she never came in here unless she had some other girl with her. I think they were being naughty, brewing some potion or something.” To the three friends, Rose’s knowledge of a potion like Bubble Juice suddenly started to make sense. Myrtle continued. “She seemed nice enough, but so nasty when she got her knickers in a knot. I wondered how her friends tolerated that, that Slytherin boy in particular –,”

“Well Myrtle,” Harry cut her off. “You haven’t seen her recently then?”

“No Harry, I haven’t. I haven’t seen anyone since those awful Death Eaters took over the castle last year. I would have assumed that either she was dead or she’s left.”

“Well, she did return to school very much alive,” said Ron. “But that fact might be in question right now.”

Hermione smacked Ron’s arm. “What Ron is trying to say is that Rose is in trouble right now and we need to find her.”

“Ooohh!” Myrtle grinned, her eyes squinting with curiosity. “What did she do?”

“She ticked off Professor Snape and now he’s angry at her and we don’t know where she is,” said Ron, not stopping for breath.

“Oh dear, that’s bad,” Myrtle sighed. “Now, when you say angry…”

“He’s furious,” said Hermione.

“It’s like he’s out to kill her,” Ron interjected, but then he paused. “Who knows? He just might be.”

“Stop it Ron!” scolded Hermione. “Snape is not going to kill her!”

“But she’s still going to be in a lot of trouble,” said Harry. “For all we know, Snape could try to get her expelled.”

“Oh dear me!” Myrtle moaned as she floated back up above the cubicles. “Oh Harry, if I see your friend…that is, if the professor doesn’t find her first, I will tell her that you are looking for her.”

“Myrtle, if you see her, tell her to find a better hiding place,” said Ron as they left the student ghost to her reveries.

Harry sighed as he and his companions exited the bathroom. He and Ron leaned against the wall as Hermione slowly paced. “Alright, we knew that she probably wouldn’t be in there,” she said. “We just have to think.”

“But Hermione,” interjected Ron. “Where else could she have gone?”

“It’s a huge castle, Ron,” Harry pointed out. “And Rose isn’t exactly a slow person. She could be anywhere by now.”

“Just let me think.” Hermione rubbed at her temples, yet she remained calm. She continued to pace, now crossing paths with Harry. The Head Boy also looked as though he was deep in thought. He stopped mid-stride. “She may not be in this loo, but she may be in another one.”

“But then Hermione would have to check every single girl’s bathroom in the school,” Ron seemed to object.

“Then we’ll have to split up,” said Hermione. “We could cover more ground that way.”

And so it was that the three went their separate ways after deciding on their respective destinations and ventured off into the empty halls. Hermione had surrendered to the task of checking every girl’s lavatory that she knew of. Harry had sent Ron up to Gryffindor tower while he took to checking over places like the library, also quickly glancing into open classroom doors. Who knew? Maybe the clever bitch was hiding under some teacher’s desk. As ridiculous as that sounded, Harry just couldn’t help but wonder.

Harry had just exited the library, still alone, when he heard the sound of footsteps around the corner. He saw an imminent black shadow on the wall. Harry didn’t know what told him that this shadow and those footsteps belonged to Snape. It may have just been some sort of sixth sense he had picked up over the years. Whatever it was, it also wasn’t usually wrong. He ducked behind a corner. And low and behold, he was right.

Snape came around the corner and seemed to stop in front of the library doors. Harry peered out to see what he was up to. He saw that Snape’s wand hovered just above his hand, pointing in some obscure direction. The tip was shining with a light that was somewhere between white and a very faint green. It looked like a much better version of a basic directing spell. Harry suddenly felt a surge of panic. He and the others were now in a race to beat Snape’s wand to Rose. The urgency of this was made painfully obvious when Harry caught sight of the Potions master’s face.

Harry waited until Snape disappeared down the hall, following his wand and his own sense of direction. Then the young man took off in the opposite direction. He had flown down several flights of stairs when he ran into Hermione and Ron as they too went to head downstairs.

“Neither of us found anything,” said Hermione, sounding most disappointed. “What about you?”

“The only thing I know now is that we’re running out of time,” Harry told them. “Snape’s on the move, tracking spell and everything.”

“Oh god!” Hermione started to panic. “Where the hell could she be hiding? I even went up to check our room, and still nothing.”

Harry got an idea. “Hey, what if we go ask Hagrid? Maybe he’s seen her.”

“Harry, she hasn’t gone anywhere near that hut since fourth year,” Ron tried to reason.

“Well, right now it’s the only option because I’m running out of ideas.” Harry was interrupted by the final bell of the day ringing. “C’mon, let’s move.”

Once on the ground floor, the trio ran out towards to cloud-covered courtyard. From there, they made their way across the school grounds. The hems of their robes soaked up what was left of the rain water in the grass, and their shoes were squeaking when they approached the door to Hagrid’s hut. Harry banged on the door, setting off Fang’s loud barking. The half-giant pushed open the door with a smile.

“Well hullo there!” he exclaimed. “What a wonderful surprise! Please come in, have some tea.”

“Actually Hagrid,” Harry interrupted. “We came to ask you something. You know Rose Beckett? We were wondering if you’ve seen her down around here.”

“Is there some kind of trouble?”

“Yes,” It was Hermione’s turn to speak. “She’s in a bit of a pickle right now. We want to know if she’s alright.”

Hagrid smiled. “Then why don’t yeh just ask her yerself?” He stepped out of the doorway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all stunned to see Rose sitting at Hagrid’s massive table with a huge cup of tea in her hand. Her robe and shoes were drying by the fire. She turned to them with a little smile, raising her cup in acknowledgement.

“You really are a clever bitch!” Ron blurted out.

“What? Is this the last place you expected to find me?”

“Exactly!”

Rose wasn’t the only one to laugh at Ron’s frankness. Hagrid chuckled heartily as he motioned for the three friends to come inside the house. They hoisted themselves up onto the remaining chairs as Rose set down her cup. “So how did you know I was here?” she asked.

“We didn’t,” said Harry. “It was one of our last ideas.”

“Rose, we’ve been looking all over the castle for you,” Hermione explained. Hagrid poured out tea for the rest of them.

“Really? You’ve been looking for me?” Rose looked strangely puzzled. “Why is that?”

“Well, after what happened in class, we wanted to know what happened to you,” said Hermione, sipping her tea. “We wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m quite alright.” Rose tipped her head back, draining the last of her tea. “I might be a bit jittery, but I’m alright. You must have had a hard time coming up with ideas, classes only just ended.”

“Actually, we’ve been searching for around two hours,” Hermione explained, looking away in embarrassment. “Harry and Ron didn’t have any trouble, but I had to abandon Arithmancy.”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “ _You_ skipped out on a class?” She sounded astounded. Hermione gave a short, shameful nod. Rose choked on a laugh. “Merlin’s beard! That’s incredible. You must really value my friendship.”

“Don’t mention it.” This was more of a warning to Rose from Hermione.

“Where else did you look?”

“Everywhere,” said Ron. “The common room, the dormitories, bathrooms, the library, empty classrooms… between the three of us, we covered the entire castle.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I led you on a wild goose chase,” said Rose, wrinkling her eyebrows.

“How did you end up out here?” asked Harry, quite curious.

“Well after I ran out of Potions, I wandered around the halls for a while. I had to blow off steam, you know? I couldn’t possibly go to Divination, not with the luck I’ve been having today. The last thing I needed was to have Trelawney warn me of some more bad fortune ahead. I thought about going up to the common room, but I don’t know what stopped me. I ran into Hagrid and something told me it was a good idea to hide out for a few hours.”

“You would be stupid not to.” Ron raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Why do yeh say that, Ron?” asked Hagrid as he sat down in his enormous armchair.

“Let’s say that it involves a professor who has no sense of basic hair care.”

Rose growled, resting a hand on her forehead. “Don’t even start with me about Snape. Words could not possibly describe the loathing I feel for that man right now. In fact, I couldn’t possibly give a damn about him right now. But don’t any of you think that I’m out here because of him. I’m hiding because I just wanted to get away from the fucking world. By the way, what happened after I left class?”

“Do you really want to know?” Hermione asked.

Rose’s face fell. “Oh no, that doesn’t sound good.”

“You have no idea,” Harry added. “After you took off, Snape was so furious that even the Slytherins were scared. He couldn’t even carry on with the lesson. He just dismissed us and stormed into his office. But right before he did…he deducted three hundred points from Gryffindor.”

“He did what?!” Rose shouted, suddenly standing up.

“He deducted three hundred points,” Harry repeated, very glumly.

“But he can’t do that!”

“You don’t think we told him that?” suggested Ron. “He was going do it anyway, he didn’t care.”

Rose’s face turned red, scrunching her eyes shut and baring her teeth. “Fuck!” She lashed out at her teacup and threw it against the wall, smashing it. Fang barked at the sudden crash.

“Oi!” Hagrid jumped up. “Calm down, lass!” He walked over and placed a huge hand on Rose’s shoulder, gently forcing her back down into the chair. Rose quickly regained control over herself and relaxed again. She looked down at the broken ceramic with guilt.

“I’m sorry, Hagrid. I didn’t mean to do that.” She pulled out her wand. “ _Reparo!_ ” The cup mended itself in mid air and flew back up to rest on the table.

“Alright, Rose, no harm done. I understand, it’s been a tough day fer yeh.” Hagrid patted Fang on his head to quiet his relentless barking before sitting back down in his armchair. “Three hundred points, eh? I didn’t think yeh had that many points to lose.”

“We didn’t,” said Harry. “We’re in negative figures now.”

“I can’t believe he did that, that fucking git! Surely McGonagall wouldn’t allow it.”

“I don’t think she can give us those points back so easily.” Ron shook his head. “Someone would have to do something pretty amazing to earn them.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Yeah, good luck to them! Three hundred points, that’s mindboggling!”

“Here,” said Hagrid, seeing Rose cradle her head in her hands. “Have another cuppa tea.” He poured out a second cup for the red-haired witch, but Rose seemed to have lost interest. She simply stirred the hot liquid with her fingertip.

“We thought it was better for you to hear it from us than from someone else,” said Hermione, setting aside her cup. “You know how gossip travels so quickly.”

“Yes, like Parkinson needed another reason to take a stab at me. But why do I have the feeling that there’s more that I don’t know about?” Rose massaged her temples at the thought. She saw the uneasy looks on her friends’ faces. “What? Did Snape command the Slytherins to hunt me down and torture me into madness?”

“No,” Ron let his gaze wander away. “But you’ve got the right idea.”

Rose wrinkled her flaxen eyebrows in confusion. “What is he talking about?” she asked, looking at Hermione. The frazzled brunette diverted her attention to Harry, who took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

“The other Gryffindors aren’t happy at all,” he explained, swiftly re-shielding his green eyes. “After Snape dismissed us, they were so angry that they devised a plan to track you down after classes.”

“An’ do what?” asked Hagrid, a bit shocked at what he was hearing.

“Who knows?” said Ron. “I don’t think that they got that far in their planning.”

“They couldn’ have meant any harm.”

“I don’t know, Hagrid.” Harry turned to face the half-giant. “You should have seen them. It was like they had all gone mental.”

Rose tried to comprehend her new situation. “So what you mean to say is that as we speak, a number of our housemates are prowling around the castle on a regular old witch hunt.”

“Their words, exactly,” said Ron, nodding his head.

“No better than Muggles, I tell you.” Rose stared into the fireplace, deep in thought. “It was Dean and Seamus, wasn’t it?”

“And Neville,” Harry added.

Rose groaned, planting her head on the tabletop. Fang got up from his basket and rested his head in her lap. “What did they think they would do once they found me? Toss me in a pit with Snape and watch what happens?” Rose’s voice was muffled against the wood. She didn’t see Hermione’s face flush as Harry’s eyes shifted.

“Yeah Rose,” Ron spoke up. “There’s something else you should know.”

The ginger girl kept her mouth shut against the wail that escaped her throat. “Don’t tell me that Snape’s out to get me!”

“I saw him on the fourth floor,” said Harry. “And by the looks of it, he was dead set on finding you quickly. He was using a tracking charm. If I’m honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he burst in here at any moment.”

“Rose,” Hermione leaned forward across the table. “Did it not occur to you that you could be in deep trouble after the things you said?”

“Of course, it did! That hit me before I left the room. But how was I supposed to know that he would go to the extent of tracking me down?”

“And it looks like he cancelled class to do so,” Ron interjected.

Rose turned, stroking the top of Fang’s head. “Hagrid, would you be so kind as to escort me back up to Gryffindor tower?”

Hagrid let out a chuckle at the request. “I could, but yeh know that I can’t protect yeh fer long. From what I hear from the lot o’ yeh, yeh said some things that would call for discipline. It is Snape’s right to discipline yeh, and unfortunately, it would have come sooner or later. I’m sorry, lass, but yeh had it comin’.”

Rose’s eyes wandered around the room. “You know, Parkinson nipping at my ankles is starting to sound alright now.” And that was the break in tension that everyone seemed to need.

**~HP~**

Some twenty minutes had gone by when the four friends bid goodbye to Hagrid and started for the castle. While the Magical Creatures teacher could not be persuaded to become a body guard, Rose was not going to be left alone to vanish again. “We’ll work together,” Harry had decided. “We can make sure she gets up there safe.”

“Harry, you know I was just joking with Hagrid, right?” Rose suggested. “I don’t need protection. I can handle myself just fine.”

“I’d rather not take that chance,” Harry warned Rose as they approached the massive doors.

They all walked closely together through the halls, keeping a constant lookout. Having just been released from classes, students were everywhere. All four of them felt the uncomfortable tension of being watched as curious looks and annoyed stares shifted to Rose. Evidently, they had all heard about what had happened. Hermione was right; word does spread quickly.

They passed a fair few young Gryffindors on their way up to the common room, but thankfully, they just carried on with their business. Harry still kept an eye and ear open for their Irish ringleader. They didn’t stop to talk to anyone, it would have been stalling. Even when they were approached by a chipper Nearly-Headless Nick on the fifth floor, Harry diverted any conversation by saying, “You didn’t see us, alright?”

It took a ridiculous amount of time to get up to the seventh floor. The little group ended up doing everything from changing their route to avoid fellow lions, to ducking around corners should Snape suddenly appear. But after a long while with no sign of anyone, Rose got lulled into a false sense of security. She seemed to ignore the fact that there were people out looking for her, waltzing through the halls like there was nothing amiss. It grew to such an extent that when they turned the corridor that led to the Fat Lady, Rose turned around and actually began to walk backwards.

“What did I tell you?” she said, facing the others. “Nearly there and no sign of those idiots or the greasy bastard.”

Harry thought that Rose should be really careful about what she said. After all, in this unique case, the walls actually did have ears. “Rose, shut it. We don’t know if anyone could be around, or if your voice is carrying.”

“Harry, will you just relax? If we were to run into someone, I think we would have run into them by now.” Rose continued to walk backwards.

“Rose, be serious,” Hermione added sternly. “We could get caught at any time.”

“We’re not going to get caught!”

The trio suddenly froze where they stood, causing Rose to stop. All three of her friends looked as though they had just seen the ghost of He-who-must-not-be-named-anymore. Their faces went white while their breath stilled. Evidently, something bad was behind her. Swallowing hard, she slowly turned to see that she now stood before a furious Professor Snape. His wand pointed to her chest with a fiery red tip. There was a delayed silence as Rose held her breath.

“Oh fuck!” she yelled, feeling a sudden burst of lightning race to her feet. But before she could make a run for it, Snape grabbed her wrist and held on with violent tension.

“Oh, no you don’t!” he growled. “You’re not getting away this time!”

“Get your filthy hands off me, you prick!” Rose continued to yell, fighting fiercely against her restraint, pulling at her wrist with all her power. By this point, other students began to congregate around them. Some were even drawn out of the Gryffindor common room by the noise, including a defeated Seamus Finnigan.

“Silence! You’re coming with me!” Snape yanked Rose forward, making her stumble in his direction. “I can assure you that you will not get away with this!” He started to drag her away.

“Let go of me!” Rose screamed, trying and failing to dig her feet into the stone floor.

“Shut up, you brat!”

All Harry, Hermione, and Ron could do was watch as their friend was pulled away, her calls and swears echoing through the halls.

**~HP~**

Minerva McGonagall, knee deep in essays and stranded at her desk, was startled when her classroom doors flew open and one Severus Snape stormed in, dragging Rosella Beckett by her wrist. Once they had reached the front of the room, he forcefully shoved the student toward the desk, causing her to stumble and fall to her knees. Rose looked up at her Head of House. McGonagall did not look happy to see her in the least, looking down on her from behind her glasses.

“Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall,” said Rose, trying to force a smile.

“I wish I were able to say the same, Miss Beckett.” McGonagall set her quill down in its well. “Professor Snape tells me that there was a disturbance in his class and that you were the cause –,”

“Disturbance, my arse!” Snape interrupted.

“Severus!” The spry, elderly witch scolded her younger colleague. She then turned her attention back to Rose. “Now Miss Beckett, care to explain what happened?”

“Why should I?” Rose cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure Professor Snape has already told you everything I said.”

“You see, Minerva?!” Snape stepped forward, gesturing to Rose. “ _That_ is exactly what I was telling you about. The little bi…the little brat has no sense of when to shut her mouth!”

“So you do not deny what you said to the professor?” asked McGonagall, ignoring the man’s ranting.

Rose sighed, her eyes drifting closed. “No Professor, I don’t.”

“There you have it!” said Snape. “She admits it! Minerva, I had better see some punishment for this.”

“Oh yeah, then why not do it yourself instead of dragging me here?” Rose glared at Snape out of the corner of her squinted eye.

Snape’s hand clenched into a tight, pale fist. “Perhaps it is because I do not have the proper authority to do what I see fit.” He took a few steps toward the agitated student, McGonagall tensing as she watched. He went on. “Had you been in Slytherin, which by the way I sometimes believe you should have been –,”

“You have no right to tell me what house I should be in!” shouted Rose, stepping back and away from Snape.

“ _Silence!”_ Snape shouted back. He grabbed hold of her wrist again, making Rose struggle to escape. “As I was saying, if I had total control over your punishments, I would gladly see to it that you never set foot in this castle again.”

“Severus, let go of her!” McGonagall’s stern voice brought both teacher and student back to reality. Snape looked down to see that Rose’s hand had developed a distinctly purple shade. Only then did he let go. He stepped back to his original position.

“I believe you have both said quite enough. It is not your place to make such a rash decision, Severus,” the deputy headmistress reaffirmed. She then turned her attention to Rose. “Miss Beckett, I hope you realize that your behavior is truly disappointing to me, and I’m sure I speak for others as well. But more importantly, it will not be tolerated in any way. While I agree with Professor Snape that serious consequences are in order, I do not believe that expulsion is the answer.” She noticed the look of rage-filled disbelief on Snape’s face as Rose seemed to sigh with relief.

“Do not think that you will be let off lightly. That would be an insult in light of such blatant disrespect. Therefore, seeing as I cannot deduct any more house points, I will be writing to your mother about this, and you shall receive nightly detention for the remainder of this week and the two that follow. I must tell you Miss Beckett, I strongly recommend that you learn to control your temper. There is no good excuse for lashing out at a teacher in the manner that you did. Now, report back here after dinner for your first detention assignment. I will tell you where to go from there. You may return to your dormitories.”

Rose spun on her heel and bolted from the room. She could already hear Snape’s angry voice snarling at McGonagall, probably protesting her ideas of discipline. Rose wouldn’t dare admit it, but she felt that Snape meant it when he said he would have her expelled. But really, were nearly three weeks of nightly detention and the humiliation of negative point figures not bad enough?

She ran for as long as she could, nearly trampling younger students and dodging Professor Lupin as he walked through the corridor. Eventually though, she did tire and slowed down as she approached the stone steps. As she ascended, the stress of the day seemed to finally sap away her remaining energy. She was dragging her feet by the time she approached the Fat Lady. Thankfully, she remembered the password and entered the common room through the entrance hole. Everyone was going about with their evening activities; finishing homework, playing chess, listening to music, and enjoying each other’s company. As she approached the fireplace, in front of which Harry, Hermione, and Ron waited for her, she noticed the looks of dulled anger from more than a few of her housemates.

“Hey, I’m sorry, alright?” she raised her voice, gesturing the room. Out of the silence, she heard Dean say, “Merlin, she’s still here!”

“Are you kidding?” Seamus added. “I can’t believe she’s still alive!”

Rose sneered at the boys as she flopped down onto the sofa between Hermione and Harry. From behind, they heard Neville join in the conversation. “Who said Snape had to kill her to end her life?” There was a bit of laughter, including that of some nosey First years who had overheard.

“Don’t listen to them,” said Ron, who relaxed into the fat armchair. “They’re just messing with you. You know, still a little mad about our house points.”

Rose sighed, sinking further into the cushions. “So, what happened?” asked Harry. “Snape didn’t get you expelled, did he?”

“Would I be sitting here talking to you if he did?” Rose smiled, her friends happy to see that she was alright. “Really Harry, if he had, I would be upstairs right now, packing and crying. But no, McGonagall didn’t think it was necessary.”

“But you didn’t get off easy,” said Hermione.

“No, I did not,” Rose groaned. “I have detention every night for the next two and a half weeks.” There was a reaction from more than just the trio, callings and various ‘ _ooh_ ’s bouncing off the walls.

“Is it with McGonagall?” Hermione asked.

“I wish,” said Rose. “She said she would tell me later tonight.”

“Every night for almost three weeks?” Ron sounded amazed. “That’s rough!”

“It gets worse,” Rose waved a hand in his direction. “By tomorrow night, my mum will know about this. I can’t wait to get the letter from her! Because Merlin knows that the woman will interpret this “little outburst” as having something to do with my dad.”

Nobody knew what to say to something like that. Rose had suddenly cast an uncomfortable cloud over the couch. Even the other Seventh years nearby were quiet. Then Harry spoke up. “We’re on your side, by the way. We all agreed before you got back. Snape had absolutely no right to bring up your father like that.”

Rose just shook her head, herself speechless. If anyone knew of any sore subject for her, it was that of her father. Alistair Beckett was a well-to-do wizard who had come from a line of Irish purebloods, though he himself had been raised in England. Rose was the only child from his marriage to her mother. But rather unfortunately for the young witch, the union was short lived. When Rose was just shy of her second birthday, Alistair abruptly walked out on his young family and disappeared into the Wizarding world. Since then, Rose had been primarily raised by her mother, Charlotte Waverly. Though he hadn’t vanished completely, Alistair’s relationship with his daughter was tense at best. They only met three times a year for planned visits, visits that only grew more detached and isolated as Rose got older. By then, as she sat in front of the Gryffindor fireplace with her friends, Rose had not seen or spoken with her father in nearly two years.

“You’re damn right, he had no fucking right,” Rose finally said to Harry. “Of all things he had to use against me, it had to be that. I mean, who does he think he is that he can mention my family in front of everyone like that?”

“Obviously, he knew it would get a reaction out of you,” Hermione suggested. “It just wasn’t the reaction he was most likely expecting.”

“I don’t think Snape is so dim-witted to think that I wouldn’t get angry at that.”

“He still provoked you, didn’t he?” said Harry. “An attack like that, he probably didn’t care about how you would react.”

Rose shook her head again. “Then maybe the greasy git should think twice about whose parents he brings into an argument.”

“Snape knew what he was doing if you ask me,” Ron added, poking at the fire. “He especially would know what’s been going on with your dad lately.”

Rose sneered at the words of her fellow ginger, ignoring the whispers of others around them. What Ron was referring to was not really a secret, though Rose wished that it had been. With much of her life being spent in the Muggle world, Rose knew almost nothing about what her father did in between their short visits. Little did Rose know that while she was making her own way in the world of magic, Alistair had been socializing with a dodgy crowd. He had once said that he was merely hanging around with his old friends from his days in Slytherin. But as they one by one were revealed to be working for Lord Voldemort, it was only a matter of time before Rose would come to find out the shocking truth about Alistair’s real life. A few weeks after the Dark Lord’s defeat, Rose received a letter from the Ministry of Magic. It stated that her father had been arrested on suspicion of being involved with Death Eater activity. He now sat in a cell in Azkaban serving out a ten month sentence.

“He’s lucky I didn’t slug him,” said Rose, referring to Snape. “I mean, to even think of comparing me to my father. I’m nothing like that man; a blind man could see that!”

“I’m sure that’s true,” said Harry. Having never met the elder Beckett, his reply was rather empty.

“Thanks for that, Harry.” Rose’s tone was tired and sarcastic. “I can already hear my mother’s voice. _“Rosella Elizabeth, you should be ashamed of yourself. Do I need to invest in a few therapy sessions for you? I believe that might do you a world of good.”_ She’ll take one look at McGonagall’s letter and she’ll automatically think that my frustration was completely misdirected. In her eyes, lashing out at Snape has everything to do with being angry at my dad.”

“But you are angry at your dad,” said Ron, shrugging. Hermione leaned over and smacked him hard on the knee. “Well she is,” he defended.

“It’s true,” Rose stood up and started to pace in front of the fire. “I am mad at that snide, soul-sucking, Slytherin low-life who I have the misfortune of sharing genetics with. But I’m not one to take it out on my teachers.”

“Yeah, otherwise you would have been thrown out of Hogwarts a long time ago,” said Harry.

The four friends laughed together. Rose gazed up to the ceiling. “C’mon, you know me better than that.”

Rose sat back down on the sofa, enjoying the light hearted humor that had snuck into their conversation. Ron sat forward. “Oh, you shouldn’t blame yourself too much.” He tapped Rose’s knee. “If you ask me, I think Snape’s just trying to make up for something.”

Rose caught a chuckle in her throat. “Hmm, a respectable wizard like him, what would he have to make up for?”

“Well, you know what they say about guys who try and act tough?” Ron held up a hand, his thumb and index finger pinched an inch. “You know what I mean.”

Rose’s bright eyes popped open with surprise, and then she squeaked as she tried to muffle her laughter. Harry was also laughing to himself while Hermione just buried her face in her hand. Between them, Rose took in a sharp breath of air. “Oh god, that’s horrible!”

Ron smiled. “It’s horrible, but you laughed at it.”

“I’ll hand it to you, Ron. Leave it to you to take loathing and spin it into a laugh.”

“And it’s my pleasure every time.”

“Now I can understand what you see in him,” Rose whispered to Hermione before staring into the burning fire. “For fuck’s sake, I’m gonna laugh the next time I see the bastard. If I get in more trouble, it’ll be your head, Ron.”

“If that’s the case, then perhaps I would go down with you.” Ron cocked a red eyebrow with a sarcastic smirk.

“Don’t test her, mate,” said Harry. “I’m sure Rose would willingly throw you under the Knight Bus if given the chance.”

“Shut up Harry,” Ron rolled his eyes. “You know, it really makes me wonder. After today, what’s gonna happen to us when we show up for Potions tomorrow?” He looked in Rose’s direction.

“Don’t look at me like that, Weasley.” Rose shook her finger at him. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You don’t really know much today, do you Rose?” Seamus teased, shouting from the other side of the room. Many others around him laughed, but Rose turned to glare at him, backed by Hermione. “How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry?” she shouted back so that the whole common room could hear her.

“As many times as it takes to get us those points back.” Dean raised a mocking eyebrow.

“Oh, shove off! Snape was enough, just leave me alone,” Rose groaned. The voices of their fellow Seventh years faded into mumbles as Rose turned around to lean forward. She cradled her face in her hands. “What does it take for them to understand that I’m having a dreadful day?”

“That reminds me,” Hermione interrupted. “How does your head feel?”

“Actually, much better.” Rose relaxed back into the cushions, massaging her forehead. “It’s strange because after I ran out of Snape’s class, I felt the pain ease up a little. It got better as the time went by, and by the time you three found me at Hagrid’s, it was nearly gone. Of course, it’s back now. But it’s not nearly as awful as it was before.”

Ron giggled. “Hey, maybe you should tell Snape to go fuck himself more often.”

That made everyone in the common room laugh, even the First years in the corner. Hermione briefly wondered whether or not those children even knew exactly what they were laughing about. Rose also laughed, but not without force. She really just blushed and smiled. “Alright, I have to tell you,” she explained. “Of all the things I said, that one I really didn’t mean.”

“Then why in the name of magic did you say it?” asked Harry, rather curious as he leaned on the sofa’s arm.

“I don’t know, but you try to think straight when you’re so furious that your skull is cracking under the pressure.” Rose laughed, half to herself “I couldn’t stop myself, I swear. It just sort of exploded out of me in some kind of rebellious orgasm.” Her attention was once again drawn away by the childish giggles of the nosey little First years who had no reason to find her choice of words funny.

**~HP~**

Minerva sat at her desk in her office, rhythmically tapping the hard wood with her fingers. In front of her was a list of all the faculty members. Names all up and down the parchment had been scratched out, other words elegantly scribbled beside them. The elderly witch felt a tension headache coming on as she looked down the list for the hundredth time.

It had been over two hours since Severus had stormed out of her classroom in a violent huff. Since then, Minerva had spent her time walking around and checking up on the evening plans of the school’s teachers. After all, she had promised that she would have Rose assigned to somebody by the time she arrived for detention, and Severus served as a witness to this. At first, she wanted to put Rose with Remus as she felt that he wouldn’t be too hard on her after what Minerva had come to find out was a hellish day for the girl. But the werewolf told her that he had a three-foot-high stack of quizzes to grade, and he didn’t want to take the chance of having a student there with him while he worked. And on top of that, he didn’t want to have to make her write lines only to find himself counting them later. As Minerva inquired to each of her staff members, she found that her options were quickly running out. It seemed that an alarming number of them had some sort of business to attend to that students should not be involved in, whether it be grading, tutoring, or rearranging their lesson plans. Argus Filch was already giving detention to three other students, and Minerva didn’t want to take the chance of putting Rose in danger by sending her out with Hagrid. And as far as forcing the girl to do manual labor with the house elves, Minerva never did that unless she was left with absolutely no other choice.

Minerva secretly wished that it hadn’t been one of those nights when she found herself buried in paperwork, otherwise she would have taken Rose herself. But after going down the entire list, Minerva came to painfully realize that there was only one person who was available to take Rose.

_Severus Snape_

Once she realized this, Minerva went to great lengths to see if there was any room for change. There had to be someone else who could take her, she couldn’t put Rose with Severus. After what had happened, that would be a recipe for disaster. Minerva kept thinking back to when Severus had man-handled the young Gryffindor into her classroom. She kept thinking of the sheer fury in the Potions master’s eyes, the pure rage in his voice. If Minerva could describe seeing him like that in a word, it was frightening

“Hard at work, Minerva?” A gentle voice came from behind. Minerva turned to face the headmaster as he crept in.

“Oh Albus, don’t sneak up on me like that,” she said, surprised. She had been so concentrated on her task that she hadn’t heard him come in.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.”

“What brings you down here?”

“I was out walking before dinner and I decided to drop in,” Albus explained. “What are you working on?”

“I assume you heard about what happened in one of Severus’s classes?” asked Minerva.

“Ah yes, I did hear that. People in Hogsmeade heard that!”

“Well, I have been trying to find someone who can take Miss Beckett’s detention,” Minerva explained. “It’s proven to be quite the problem.”

“Why is that?” asked Albus, sitting down by his deputy’s desk.

“Because, I didn’t realize that all the staff have other commitments tonight and for the next few nights. At the moment, there’s only one person who is available…and that’s Severus.”

“Oh dear, that is a bit of a problem,” Albus shrugged.

Minerva shook her head. “Albus, I don’t want to put her with Severus.”

“Why not?” Dumbledore sounded rather curious. “If he is the one she insulted, then who better than Severus?”

“You weren’t there when he brought her to me. You didn’t see the look in his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so enraged. Albus, if I’m honest, it scared me a little.”

“Minerva, we made a promise to parents. Severus knows that he cannot afford to slip up. I don’t think he’s going to go off murdering students any time soon. It’s not in his nature anyway.”

“I’m still not so sure about this.” Minerva began to massage he temples. “You know as well as I do that Severus can be unpredictable at times. You’ve already seen what he’s done to our house points. I don’t wish to risk anything more.”

The headmaster thought for a few minutes before turning back to Minerva. “You know, it might not be as bad as you think, Minerva. If it had been my decision, I would have done the same. I actually think it’s a rather fine idea. Let us just hope that Severus and Miss Beckett use their time together productively. If anything, let’s hope Miss Beckett sees the error of her ways. Then things like this might not happen again. Who knows? Maybe after two or so weeks, those two might actually learn to tolerate each other.”

“Knowing Severus, I highly doubt it,” Minerva shrugged. “And what if the girl comes to me and begs me to get her out?”

“We shall deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, tell her to take it for what it is, and that is a learning experience.”

Minerva sighed. “Alright Albus, I’ll take your word for it. But if Miss Beckett objects, I’m telling her it was your idea.”

“Of course you will, I don’t mind.” Albus laughed as he stood up. “Now, let me escort you to the Great hall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave comments and kudos.


	7. Crime and Punishment

Dinner time came and went, and Minerva soon found herself back at her desk in her classroom. She occasionally glanced down at the pile of essays in front of her, though she mostly watched the door for any sign of movement. At any moment, she knew that Rose Beckett would be arriving for detention. She rang her fingers under the desk. Rather surprisingly, the deputy headmistress was anxious. She didn’t want to tell this girl that she was being sent to work with the same teacher that she so openly insulted. It was unsettling to Minerva, but she couldn’t imagine what it was going to do to Rose. If Minerva could guess one thing, it was that the young witch would have been upset even if she hadn’t been the cause of this mess. She obviously didn’t like Severus Snape anymore than anyone else did. After so many years of teaching, Minerva just knew that she was most likely about to witness a fit of teenage rage.

If that wasn’t enough weight on her mind, Severus wasn’t any easier to break the news to. When the Potions master failed to turn up for dinner, Albus volunteered to venture down to the dungeons and inform him of the arrangements. He had been light-hearted enough to believe Pomona Sprout’s jokes that the man would actually take great joy in such an idea. But that wasn’t the case at all. After a brief moment of frantic thought, Severus seemed to come up with as few ideas as Minerva had originally. And after actually sinking to the low level of begging his headmaster, he then excused himself and adjourned into his office. As Albus turned to return upstairs, he thought he heard something that sounded suspiciously like angry snarling and shattering glass.

_‘Well…that went better than I thought.’_

After hearing this, Minerva further questioned her judgment. Would it have been less dangerous to send Rose out into the Forbidden Forest? If Severus was still that livid, it was anyone’s guess as to how he would act then. She then remembered Albus saying that by that time, Severus might have calmed down enough to put Rose to work. He also reminded her that hexing someone into oblivion without justifiable reason was just not in Severus’s nature. Minerva just had to try and trust the headmaster’s confidence that Severus had enough self-control to not hurt the girl. And even so, Rose was a proud Gryffindor. If Severus so much as uttered a jinx, she would do well to report him. But that still left the problem of making them both get over their emotions long enough to effectively adhere to their duties.

Maybe it was time to try out Dumbledore’s it’s-only-for-a-few-weeks speech.

It was almost half past seven when Rose finally arrived, dragging her feet across the stone floor. She looked quite tired, but still held herself with a modest pride. Obviously, she just wanted to get this over with. “Evening Professor McGonagall,” she quietly said. “So where do you want me to go?”

The elder witch set aside her papers and sighed. “It grieves me to inform you of this, Miss Beckett, but due to staff commitments that I was unaware of, you will be serving detention with Professor Snape until further notice.”

Rose was quiet, eerily quiet. But in the absence of protest, her eyes slowly got wider and her face tightened. Her mouth dropped open as she blinked, struggling to find words. “You…have got…to be kidding. You say I have detention with Snape? No, you cannot be serious.”

“I’m afraid that I am being serious, dear. It wasn’t my first choice, but I wasn’t left with many options.”

“So what you mean to say is that _all of the professors_ are busy?”

McGonagall nodded. “In so many words.”

“Pardon me, Professor, but surely there must be something else I can do.” Rose’s calm voice was beginning to knot up into panic. “What about Mr. Filch?”

“He already has his hands full with three Third years.”

“What about the house-elves? Can’t you give them nights off and let me do their chores for a while?”

“In my many years,” McGonagall explained. “I have met quite a few students who would take Professor Snape over the school’s laundry any day.”

“Professor, don’t make me do this!” Rose began to get more desperate. “Don’t leave me alone with him. After today, Merlin knows what he’ll do with me!”

“Miss Beckett, if there was such a threat, would I trust you in Professor Snape’s hands?”

Rose shut her mouth, unable to produce an answer that was good enough. McGonagall continued. “I understand if you are not happy about this, but you know well that you have no claim to protest. You gave up that right when you chose to be disrespectful. Let us hope that you learn your lesson through this. And might I remind you that this arrangement will only be for two and a half weeks. You can survive for a few days.”

“I could go completely mad in a few fucking days!” said Rose, gritting her teeth.

McGonagall glared at her over her square spectacles. “Miss Beckett, we already have negative one hundred and ten points. Do not make that negative one hundred and thirty with such language. As far as your sanity is concerned, do what you can to hold yourself together, though I believe that you are exaggerating.”

“But what if I’m not?” Rose asked. “What if it’s unbearable?”

“Give it until the end of this week. If both you and Professor Snape come forward and express to me that you feel this is not working, then I will try to make arrangements to have you work with someone else. Does that comfort you?” The younger witch nodded. “Good. And one more thing. In the time you have spent since this afternoon, I hope had a chance to realize just how lucky you are. It is not often that Professor Snape will get so angry over an argument with one of his students, and he demanded that you be withdrawn from Advanced Potions.”

That was certainly something to get Rose’s attention, and her brow furrowed at the slight. “But I need that class. The only good jobs in Muggle Relations are in the Ministry, and I need a Potions NEWT to apply.”

“I know, and that is why I wouldn’t allow it,” said McGonagall. “I am a disciplinarian, but I am also a teacher, and it is my job to provide all of you with the best opportunities for life outside this school. However, if you embarrass yourself and your house in such an appalling manner ever again, you will not receive this clemency twice. Now kindly go down to the Potions classroom. Professor Snape is waiting for you.”

Rose turned and sluggishly walked back towards the door. But before she went back out into the hall, McGonagall stood up from her desk. “Oh, Miss Beckett!” she called, getting Rose’s attention.

“Yes Professor?”

“I just wished to tell you that I finished reading your essay a short while ago. And I have to say that it was well written, however late it was.” Rose’s face lit up with surprise and joy, but McGonagall quickly brought her back down from that. “It isn’t enough to win back any house points, but you can rest easy knowing that you will have a fair mark.”

“Thank you, Professor!” Rose smiled. Finally, something good!

“You’re welcome, dear. Now off with you!”

**~HP~**

Rose worked hard to suppress the aggravated growl that was caught in her throat. She wouldn’t have dared to let it slip in front of McGonagall; aside from using her post as deputy headmistress to overrule Snape’s outrageous demands, that woman had the power to expel her if she so wished. She continued down the corridors in her slow, tired pace. But what in the name of Godric Gryffindor was propelling her feet forward? If Rose wanted to do anything, it was to turn right around and dash back to her common room and the safety of her little dormitory.

The thought of facing Snape alone was maddening. She would never openly admit to it, but Rose was growing more and more nervous as she got closer to the dungeons. She hadn’t felt this type of anxiety since she was twelve. In fact, Rose was almost embarrassed by her unease. She was a Gryffindor, for Prospero’s sake! And yet Rose felt like there was a heavy rock in the pit of her stomach. She was going to be at Snape’s mercy and it was her own damn fault. Rational thought was almost impossible when Rose thought of just what Snape was capable of doing. Harry had told her enough of his own experiences, and even he seemed a bit worried about the former Death Eater’s behavior. Of course, that’s when Rose remembered the whole “Former Death Eater” thing. She felt like she was about to be sick.

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. What was she doing with all this fretting? And why was the fault only hers? Snape was as much to blame as she was. If that greasy slime off the bottom of her shoe hadn’t provoked her, she wouldn’t have felt the need to do the same. To Rose, this unjust detention was all because of that miserable git. Everything would have been fine if Snape had just driven Harry to near aneurism like always. But no, he had to be the king of the Slytherins and kick her while she was down. And did no one take into account that he disrespected her and brought her family into this rubbish? Her fear gave way to anger. Rose could feel her headache coming back again, along with a tight hold on her chest.

Alright, they were both at fault. She was going to pay for her vicious words, and Snape was going to try to walk – no – stomp all over her. But Rose knew that to be the bigger person in this whole conflict, she had to protect her dignity. She hastily decided that she was not going to become the sad little victim. If anything, she had to do away with her useless cowardice. There were many words that one could use to describe Rose, and coward was never one of them. Why should that change now? She told herself that she had to hold herself high, be the woman she knew she was. After all, Rose wasn’t a child anymore. Why should she be scared like one? In that moment, the red haired witch mustered up so much courage and pride that would have made Godric Gryffindor himself proud.

Rose passed a good number of students on her way down, and each one felt the need to stare at her as she calmly walked on by. Evidently, they had all taken a guess as to where she was heading. With the attention she was getting, it was as though Rose was walking to her execution, and she didn’t have a single doubt that some thought exactly that. She started to notice a pattern with each group she came across. The Gryffindors still looked ashamed and unsympathetic to her situation. The Hufflepuffs generally seemed that they felt sorry for her. The Ravenclaws were obviously pondering something that they didn’t really have much business pondering. And the Slytherins…well, laughed at her. Parkinson and her pack of bitches-in-heat led the way in the raucous giggles and the obscene choice of words. Rose soon found herself running to the dark lower corridors to get away from the unneeded harassment.

She was approaching the Potions classroom when out of the shadows behind her came a dark figure. She didn’t turn, choosing to ignore the footsteps stalking her as she continued on her way. Rose didn’t notice as the torch light illuminated a pale, thin face and shone off blonde hair. “Returning to the scene of the crime, are we Beckett?”

Rose clamped her jaw shut against the snarl. “Leave me alone, Malfoy.”

“Oh, but how can I?” Malfoy was sneering like he had too many times in the past. “A miserable little bint, all alone without her loyal friends. I couldn’t find an easier target if I tried. And for it to be Barmy Bloody Beckett, it makes my night!”

“I’ll bet I made your whole day.” Rose still didn’t turn around, seeing the classroom door come into view. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking for an encore performance.”

“Ah, but you don’t know any better. It’s a wonder you know your own name!”

“Your little lady love told you to say that, didn’t she?” The witch stopped to finally turn and glare at Malfoy, who looked quite amused.

“What if she did?” he asked, stepping closer. “And what defense do you have to offer, huh? You made a mockery of yourself and your house, and nothing you can say can deny that. It was almost cathartic to watch you completely fall apart in front of Snape and all of us.”

“Still on Snape’s side, I see,” Rose cocked her head to the side. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve heard talk that you looked scared shitless as you ran from class with your tail between your legs.”

Malfoy’s vile grin melted away, replaced by an irritated scowl. “Obviously, your mother never taught you to hold your tongue. I wonder if she realizes what a rude daughter she’s brought up.”

“Leave my mother out of this.” Rose’s voice fell to a low whisper.

“Ha, your threats mean nothing!” Malfoy laughed. “If you were half the witch you think you are, today would not have happened, wouldn’t it? My, you have some bollocks to insult Snape to his face. If I were you, I would be soiling my knickers at the thought of what he could do.”

Rose shook her head with a smug smile. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“You say that now, but what about when you’re left alone without Saint Potter to protect you? I believe you have good reason to be afraid, Beckett.”

“Shut up, Malfoy!”

The pompous blonde took a step back at the shout, his face taking on a look of mock sympathy. Rose took a deep breath, trying to calm herself again. Thinking that the pesky Slytherin was finished, she rolled her eyes as she turned to the Potions classroom door. But just before she could knock, Malfoy laughed again. “Let’s hope you live to see the light of day, Rosie!”

He didn’t know what hit him. In a moment faster than light, before he could realize his mistake, Malfoy found himself pinned up against the wall. Rose had hold of his collar with impressive strength. “What did you call me?” she snarled. She didn’t give the whimpering bloke much time to answer. “I swear, Malfoy; if I ever hear you call me that again, becoming a ferret will be the least of your worries.”

She would have continued with her threat, but she was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Startled, Rose turned to see Snape standing in the doorway. Seeing the scene before him, his cold glare served as a silent warning. He stepped back inside the room. Rose turned back Malfoy, still trembling at the hands so close to his throat. She didn’t need to say anything to the coward; making him shit himself would be enough. She let go, and Malfoy dashed off down the hall.

“You’ll regret that!” he shouted. “You’ll bloody regret that, you hear?!” Rose sighed as she shook her head, and then quietly went inside the classroom, shutting the door behind her.

The Potions room was dimly lit by the light of a few small torches and candles. It also reeked with the smell of a failed potion. Snape sat behind his desk, staring at some sort of parchment with a quill in his hand. He glanced up to Rose slightly as she stood in the doorway. He then went back to his work.

“Miss Beckett,” he said in a low scratchy voice

“Reporting for detention, sir,” Rose responded in the way that Harry and Ron had instructed her.

“Yes, so I see.” Snape’s cold tone suggested that he didn’t care about Rose’s diligence. He also seemed to be doing his best to pay as little attention to her as possible.

Rose stood uncomfortably in front of Snape’s desk, ringing her hands and glancing about the room. The awkward silence only made it worse. Snape continued with his work. Rose cleared her throat, causing Snape to slowly lift his head and glare up at her. “Is…is there anything you wanted me to do?” she asked.

“That,” Snape pointed one long, thin finger to the back of the room. Rose looked over her shoulder at an area where a number of cauldrons had been left to stew by another class. She groaned as her eyes drifted to the end of the line. This very unlucky student’s cauldron had shattered and melted, and there were great splashes of some revolting liquid all over the table, the floor, and even up the wall.

“Clean it up,” Snape commanded.

“Yes Professor,” said Rose, done with disobeying the Potions master. She was reaching into her robes when she heard Snape’s voice again. “Miss Beckett,”

“Yes sir?”

“Give me your wand.”

“What?!” Rose exclaimed. “Why?”

“I want you to clean that work station, but you cannot use any magic. I want to eliminate any temptation,” Snape explained. He pulled out his own wand and transfigured a bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush. “You have to do this the Muggle way.”

In her head, Rose was cursing the whole world. But she wasn’t going to press her luck. With the misfortunes that had befallen her that stormy day, she might end up cleaning up after one of Hagrid’s pets. Snape set aside his wand and turned back to her, arm extended. Reluctantly, Rose brought forth her own ebony wand and laid it in Snape’s waiting hand. He carefully, yet less than gently, put it into one of his desk drawers and shut it hard. He quickly set a charm on the handle. The girl couldn’t get at her wand now, not unless she wanted her hand to turn to stone.

Snape stood up and picked up the brush, dropping it into the soapy water. He picked up the bucket and hauled it over to Rose, setting it down on the table she leaned on. She stared at him with weary eyes. “Well,” he snapped. “Don‘t just stand there. Get to work.”

Rose started at the mess and grimaced. “Sir, I don’t have any way of knowing what that mess was supposed to be. How am I to know that there isn’t anything dangerous in that?”

Snape growled. “Would I be making you clean it by hand if there was?”

“You probably would,” said Rose without missing a beat.

Snape snarled with frustration as he pulled out his wand and said, “ _Accio gloves_!” A drawer snapped open as a pair of worn leather gloves floated over to him. He shoved them into Rose’s hands “There, happy?” Rose just glared at him as she took the gloves and nodded. “Then get to work,” snapped the Potions master.

Snape walked back behind his desk and eased down into his chair. He leaned his elbows on the wooden tabletop as he cradled his head in his hands. He was thoroughly exhausted after his rotten day. His stresses and lasting illness had resulted in a massive headache that threatened to shatter his skull. He did his best to hide this from the insufferable student. It was a good idea that he decided to sit down; he was actually beginning to feel a bit dizzy. Hopefully, this didn’t mean that he was going to be sick again. Trying to banish any thought of that from his mind, Snape took hold of his quill and went back to his paperwork.

Rose took off her robe and flung it over another desk. She not-so-delicately rolled up her sleeves and yanked on the gloves. She looked at the bucket, and then looked back at Snape, who was glaring at her out of the corner of his inky black eye. She took this as his way of saying that he was prepared to take off more points if he damn well pleased. She continued to stare down with her professor as she dunked her gloved hand into the bucket and brought forth the brush. Then, without bothering to let the brush drip, she let her hand fall heavily onto the table and began to scrub the surface. Suds soon covered the desk, the bubbles turning an odd shade of orange. The room was soon filled with the annoying scratching of the brush fibers on wood, and Snape’s quill tip on rough parchment.

Every so often, Rose would look up to where Snape sat. The sallow wizard was again ignoring her and generally appeared unfazed by her progress. As she scrubbed, their row replayed again and again in Rose’s head. And every time, the mention of her father stuck out. She might have regretted some of the things she said, but what about Snape?  Was it possible that after he came down from his ridiculous, rage-fueled rampage, he actually thought about what he had done? Could it be that somewhere deep down, Snape had a conscience? Perhaps he had realized that he had crossed the line, leaving Rose with no choice but to do the same. For Rose, the best satisfaction she could get now was a simple admission of regret.

She certainly wasn’t a coward.

“So,” she looked up at Snape. “Do you have anything to say to me, Professor?”

“No,” The professor didn’t look up from his parchment.

“You don’t want to apologize to me?”

“Why would I want to do that?” asked Snape as he looked up with an arched eyebrow.

“Sir, you disrespected me in front of the class,” explained Rose.

“Therein lies my point. Why should I apologize to you for disrespecting you in front of the class when you yourself did the same to me?”

Rose growled at how her morality told her that he was absolutely right. “Well sir, I think you know it was wrong to bring my father into that,” she said in a last attempt.

“I did what I had to, Miss Beckett,” Snape said, frustration beginning to color the tone of his voice.

Rose could have gone further. She could have mentioned that thanks to Harry, she had enough dirt on Snape to insult him into oblivion. But she figured it would mean that she do laundry for the Slytherins every Saturday for the rest of term, or the rest of her life for that matter. She decided to leave it alone and went back to scrubbing.

**~HP~**

The hours slowly ticked by as Rose worked herself to a sweat. She panted and grunted as she struggled to get the sticky, congealed potion off of the desktop. Articles of clothing now lay on a nice neat pile on another desk. In between bouts of vigorous scrubbing, she had shed her house sweater and undid her tie. She had also twisted her long red hair into a contorted bun, tied off with her red ribbon. It took quite a lot of time and effort, but eventually the brush slid across the wood with no friction. Rose sighed with relief as she found a rag to wipe the table dry. Once the last of the soapy water was sopped up, Rose used a stool to help hoist herself up onto the desk to better reach the dried splashes on the wall. She hadn’t spoken a word to Snape at all in hours.

The Potions master was still watching her from his desk at the front of the room, glancing up from his now finished paperwork. He was actually rather impressed at the speed and stamina of the young woman. Severus had assumed that by eighteen years old, the Beckett girl would end up as lazy as her father had been in his day, especially when faced with manual Muggle labor. And yet here she was, scrubbing until her pale, freckled face turned red. Severus couldn’t help but feel a bit bemused. At least she finally had enough sense to shut up.

Severus looked up to the clock to see that it was almost ten o’clock. He debated if he had tormented Rose enough for one night; she had to come back tomorrow night after all. But letting her go would probably be better for his sanity rather than hers. His head and body both ached with persistent fatigue.

“There, finished.”

Rose’s voice pulled Snape out of his internal thoughts. He looked up to see her toss aside her wet, grungy rag. “What was that?” he asked, delirious.

“I said I’m finished, Professor,” Rose repeated.

Severus stood up and walked around his desk. Rose stepped aside to let him inspect her work. Severus looked down at the desktop and was surprised to not see one speck of dust left. His black eyes travelled up the wall to see the same. There was no evidence of that disastrous excuse for a potion. He had to admit it to himself; the Beckett girl had done a good job. Relief washed over him. He was about to dismiss Rose when his gaze fell on his closed office door. He suddenly got another idea, cocking his eyebrow as he looked back at the tired girl.

“Very well,” he sighed.

“May I go now, Professor?” asked Rose, hopefully.

“No, you may not,” Severus sneered weakly.

“Why not?” Rose objected, trying to ignore the tension in her chest. “I did what you told me to do. I worked really hard to get that. Sir, don’t you know what time it is?”

“I do, and I say that I’m not finished with you.”

“Alright, fine. What else do you want me to do?”

Snape motioned for her to follow him. Silently, he led her over to his office. “Since you finished cleaning that work station so quickly, you can tidy up my office.” He pushed the door open.

Rose had to hold back a gasp at the sight of the shattered glass and spilled liquids, the flotsam and jetsam of Snape’s anger. Wisely, she suppressed the urge to ask her professor what the fuck happened. Instead, she looked around the room and said “Pardon me sir, but I don’t think “tidy up” is the proper phrase.”

“Quiet,” warned Snape.

Rose entered the office, watching her step. A swish through the air told her that Snape was wielding his wand. Rose turned to see that the brush and bucket had become a broom and dustpan. Another flick sent them flying into her hands. Snape turned back to her, tucking his wand away. “Clean until the room is as spotless as that tabletop. Make sure it never looked like this.” He walked over to his desk, tediously stepping around the mess of glass and potions he had created. “It would be wise to leave the gloves on,” he said, sitting at his desk and leaning back in his chair. He retrieved a book from a desk drawer.

_‘No need to tell me that, I’m not stupid,’_ Rose thought to herself as she gripped the broom. She had a hard time trying to think of how she was going to work around the multi-colored, potent-smelling liquids. She gulped as she looked up at Snape, who was ignoring her again. “Professor,” she said, getting his attention. “The potions, what do you want me to do?”

Fortunately for her, Snape had enough sense to know that it wasn’t a good idea for Rose to touch the raw ingredients on the floor, regardless of what her class performance suggested. A wave of his wand saw to that. He then turned his attention back to his reading. Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise. She couldn’t even get up the courage to thank him. She simply sighed deeply before setting herself to sweeping.

As she swept the sharp fragments into little piles, Rose would let her eyes wander to Snape. He was hunched over his book, cradling his head in his hand. And every time she looked, something odd tugged at her conscience. As relaxed as Snape was trying to appear, he still looked so tired. His face was pasty and Rose could faintly see dark circles forming under his eyes. Though he no doubt was taking pleasure in having her as his personal maid, he still appeared on edge.

“Sir, are you alright?” asked Rose, almost forgetting that this was Snape she was talking to.

“Why do you ask?” Snape snarled. It was as though she had insulted him again without realizing it.

“Nothing, you just seem a bit tense.” Rose kneeled down to sweep up a glass pile. She avoided eye contact with the testy Potions master.

“Well, your presence isn’t exactly desirable at the moment.”

Rose turned away, trying to hide the pink staining her cheeks. “I suppose I had that coming.”

“You certainly did.” Snape shook his head at her. “I really am beginning to question your common sense, Beckett. No better than any of your housemates if you ask me. My wellbeing is none of your concern, so kindly refrain from sticking your nose into places it doesn’t belong.”

He looked down again. But he started to massage his temples, shutting his eyes. From where she sat on the floor, Rose could tell that the man had one heck of a headache. Even though she had been subjected to the same agony that day, she didn’t sympathize with Snape in the slightest. In her view, he got what he had coming to him. Rose had to work hard to suppress the sneer that she so wanted to throw at Snape.

_‘Karma’s a bitch…’_

The two of them went right back to ignoring each other after that, which really seemed to be the best thing to do. It certainly made it easier to get through the detention if they pretended that the other didn’t exist. The silence in the office was almost deafening. Both teacher and student were so wrapped up in their own little worlds that neither of them heard the classroom door creak open.

“Ah, just what I love to see. A student hard at work.” Both Rose and Snape jumped at the sound of Dumbledore’s voice, looking to where he stood in the office doorway.

“Professor Dumbledore,” said Rose, nodding her head to him.

“Headmaster,” Snape simply stated. “What brings you down here at this hour?”

“I just thought I’d pop in and see how things are working between you two. And since Miss Beckett appears to be unharmed, it seems to me that all is well.  Professor McGonagall with be relieved to know that I was right and she was wrong.” Dumbledore smiled at his own comment, but neither the younger man nor the much younger girl were amused. “So Miss Beckett, is this all that Professor Snape has had you do?”

“It’s more like a bonus,” said Rose as she bent down to sweep up another pile. She let her eyes roll away from Snape, who had closed his book with a hard smack.

“Now what does she mean by that, Severus?” Dumbledore turned as the Potions master slowly rose from his chair.

“I had her clean the workstation in the far corner.” Severus walked over to his office door and pointed to the clean table. “A Hufflepuff’s potion combusted while it was fermenting.”

The elderly headmaster walked over and stared down at the surface of the wood. “My goodness, I can almost see myself in this desk! Miss Beckett did a marvelous job.”

“It’s actually rather impressive considering how it looked an hour or so ago.”

On the office floor, Rose’s eyebrow twitched. Did Snape just compliment her to the headmaster? _‘Oh, that’s a bit odd. Must be because it’s Dumbledore he’s talking to. Thank God for that loony old man.’_ With a shake of her head, she went back to her work, trying to tune out the conversation in the other room.

As Dumbledore examined the desk and walls, Severus slowly moved back to his chair at the front of the room, trying to hide his discomfort from the headmaster. He sat down, lightheaded and queasy. Just walking the distance from his office to his classroom seemed to drain him further of energy.

“I should tell Minerva that it may not be necessary to reassign Miss Beckett after all. The two of you seem to be handling this quite well.” The Potions master could only nod, too weary to speak. He was wishing to high heaven that the old loon would just think of something better to do than pester him.

“Severus, are you alright?”

Severus looked up to notice Dumbledore looking at him with a concerned look in his old eyes. He growled as he shot up out of his seat. “Why must everyone be so concerned about my health?! Minerva, Lupin, that Beckett girl –,”

“I have a name, you know!” Rose shouted from inside the other room.

Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Fine, _Miss_ Beckett!” he shouted back before turning back to the white haired wizard. “And now you; it’s comforting to know that you don’t trust my word anymore. If I say that I’m alright, then I’m alright, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“But our concerns are not unmerited,” said Dumbledore. “You don’t look well at all tonight. Perhaps you are coming down with something.”

“I don’t get sick, sir,” Severus flat out denied. He quickly turned back to head back into his office. But that suddenly sent the room into a three-sixty spin. His stomach flipped and the blood rushed from his aching head. Severus gripped the edge of his desk to prevent the evident faint. He heard the sound of a door swinging into a slam. He looked up to see a closed office door, effectively locking Rose in. Dumbledore was at his side before he could blink.

“Severus, what’s wrong?” he gently pushed the younger wizard back into his chair.

“Nothing, I just moved too quickly, that’s all.”

“Have you had anything to eat tonight? I had hoped you had when you didn’t come up to supper.”

“I…wha…no, I haven’t,” Severus stammered.

“Oh, no wonder! You probably haven’t eaten anything since lunchtime, and even that wasn’t much.” Dumbledore tapped Severus on the shoulder before turning to leave. “I’ll have the house-elves whip something up for you. Would you like me to dismiss Miss Beckett for you?”

The old man suddenly found himself with a long, pale finger pointing at his face. “ _Do NOT_ send that girl away. I don’t care if you are the headmaster; she is mine until I say different.”

Dumbledore gave a little nod, humoring Severus. He opened the office door and poked his head in. “Keep up the good work, my dear,” he said.

“Will do, sir,” Rose’s voice echoed out.

Dumbledore walked over to the classroom door. “You know, what happened this afternoon is actually starting to make sense.” He lightly chuckled. “But in all seriousness; I understand that you have your priorities, Severus. But depriving yourself of nourishment will only do more harm than good.”

“I know that.”

“Then you should take better care of yourself. I need my teachers to be in tip-top shape, you especially. Good night.” Then the old wizard disappeared into the darkness of the dungeon halls. After the door clicked shut, Severus groaned. Dumbledore had to see him vulnerable; he just had to! Now that crazy codger was probably going to go to great lengths to ensure his wellbeing, just what Severus needed!

_‘Damn that twinkling eye!’_

It wasn’t long before two small house-elves popped in carrying two trays. One of them reached up to set a steaming bowl of beef stew before him, along with a small loaf of bread and a glass of wine. At least the meddling fool recognized his need for liquor. He noticed the second elf placing another plate on his desk. It was another two loaves of bread and a goblet of pumpkin juice. A little note in purple ink rested against the goblet.

_For Miss Beckett, if she desires…_

Severus just shook his head. After the little creatures Disapparated, Snape looked at the food before him with caution. It had potential to cause him more trouble tomorrow, if that morning had been any indication. But at the same time, he felt like he was going to keel over at any moment. Dumbledore was right to say that Severus had not eaten a thing since a rather meager lunch. Perhaps a late supper would help him get through the rest of the night. It should at least get rid of the headache. Yes, the headache had to go.

He picked up the spoon and gently blew before taking his first bite. He had to hand it to the house-elves, they did make good meals. He felt his body relax as he slowly tucked into his meal. But then he noticed the other plate. He had almost forgotten that there was a teenaged girl unsupervised in his office.

“Beckett, get out here!” he called.

The door creaked open and Rose appeared. She noticed the food with wrinkled eyebrows. “What’s this?”

“Courtesy of the headmaster,” Snape pointed to the bread and drink. “Eat.”

Rose was cautious in her steps, questioning why Snape would take pity and feed her. If anything, he probably wanted to watch her starve. But if it was on Dumbledore’s orders, then she shouldn’t have much to worry about. She also didn’t want to give the greasy git a chance to change his mind. She took hold of the plate and goblet without so much as glancing at her professor. She then walked to the middle of the room and sat down at the desk that she shared with Hermione. Upon reading Dumbledore’s note herself, she took a long sip of pumpkin juice. She tore off a bit of bread and stuffed it into her mouth.

Snape leaned forward to look into his office. From what he could see, Rose was almost finished as the floor was rid of the large piles of glass. Alright; now he was curious. “I’m surprised,”

“Pardon?” Rose lifted up her eyes to Snape.

“I’m surprised with how efficient you have been tonight. I would have expected for you to complete both jobs in twice your time. I would have expected you to be as lazy as you were this afternoon.”

“Well,” Rose looked quite smug. “I think that shows who the bigger adult is right now.”

Snape held back a snort. “Miss Beckett, you are hardly an adult by anyone’s standard.”

“And judging from today, neither are you.”

The Potions master’s eyebrow developed a distinct arch as his grip on his spoon tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“Professor Snape, did you seriously think that hammering me with questions would scare me into not being late? Was that the best you could come up with? I mean, come on!”

“But you didn’t know the answers, now did you?” said Snape.

Rose stopped talking and let her eyes wander off, biting off a bit of bread. “Well…no. But I was having a bad day, and it –,”

“It made you completely incompetent in this class?” Snape finished her sentence.

“It made me incompetent in every class. Professor, do you have any idea what kind of a day I had? I don’t know what I liked more; falling asleep at breakfast, the massive headache, the total inability to perform spells, losing close to four hundred points total, or getting caught in the rain while walking on my tired aching feet!”

The twitch in the corner of Snape’s mouth betrayed his amusement. “It still gives you no excuse to be rude to your peers,” he said.

Rose rung her fingers, pressure building up in her head. “Oh, and I suppose it gives you the right to bully us when you need to blow off some steam?”

“That’s another thing entirely, Miss Beckett.”

Snape looked back down at his own plate. His head shot back up when Rose smacked her hand down onto the desktop. “Clearly, you don’t understand me,” she said in a low voice, struggling with control. “Pardon my language sir, but my day was bloody fucking horrible. And you made it that much worse. What they’ve been saying upstairs is true; we wouldn’t be sitting here if you hadn’t chosen to humiliate me in front of the class. With the stress that I was under when you put me on the spot like that, I couldn’t take it.”

“And that’s when you decided to fight back,” Snape finished for her again.

Rose leaned her elbows on the table. “What else could I have done?”

“It might have occurred to you to control yourself.” Snape locked eyes with the student glaring back at him. “Miss Beckett, I’ve had many students mouth off to me in seventeen years. But none could have come close to you’re little outburst.”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” Rose thought out loud.

“On the contrary, I found it to be rather disappointing.”

Rose ripped at her bread. “Excuse me, Professor?”

Snape took a moment to indulge in his meal, but he did eventually begin speaking. “You have been my student for nearly eight years. When you are forced to interact with someone for that long, you come to expect certain things from them. You have always been one of those well-behaved students; obedient to school rules. I merely thought that you were intelligent enough to know when to shut your mouth. And apparently, I was wrong about your intelligence in more ways than one.”

Air was forced out of Rose’s tight lips. “Sir, I refuse to sit here and let you insult me.”

“I speak the truth,” said Snape. “You knew the answers to everyone of those questions, but you let your emotions get in your way. Regardless of what your school records may suggest, your little cheek did nothing but show me that you are classless and immature.”

In a brief moment of poor judgment, Rose seriously debated risking the wards on the drawer to get at her wand and hex Snape into next week. “Care to let me explain myself before you go off and judge my character,” she said, taking a quick sip of pumpkin juice. “First of all, you have no real right to criticize my natural intelligence. It’s like you already said; I knew the answers to every one of those questions, and the proof is in the exams that you have been _forced_ to grade. I’m perfectly capable in potion making, and you know it. It would be incredibly hypocritical for you to say that I’m on the daft side. Secondly, under the circumstances, I didn’t have much control over my reaction. If someone calls me out like that, it’s my response to want to fight back.”

“You never did that before,” Snape pointed out.

“Well sir, perhaps this last year has hardened me up a bit.”

Snape smirked at her comment; leave it to a Gryffindor to try and use their war-time exploits to gain sympathy. “Well now, if only you had enough sense to defend yourself in a classier, more lady-like manner.”

“And what sir, was the manner that I displayed?” asked Rose, quite curious.

“You basically showed me that you are an eighteen year-old with the emotional control of a small child. After all, why else would you so easily reveal certain information to a professor without considering the consequences?”

Rose realized what he was talking about rather quickly. “Oh! Look Professor, if this is about that whole Bubble Juice thing –,”

“Which reminds me,” interrupted Snape. “Where, pray tell, did you learn that gem? Because if my memory serves me correctly, you did _not_ learn that in this class.”

Rose hesitated and took another swig of pumpkin juice. “That’s for me to know and for you to never find out,” she tried to beat around the bush.

“Come Miss Beckett, you obviously had to learn it somehow. Children are not born with the list of ingredients of illegal potions embedded into their brains.”

Rose’s gaze left her professor and wandered across the room. She knew that he probably wasn’t going to back down about this, not when he had her backed into some unseen corner. He was probably thinking that he was about to uncover some illegal drug scandal at Hogwarts.

“You do realize that with a touch more proof, I can very easily turn you into the Ministry and you could find yourself in more trouble than you have ever been here…or you could just tell me now.”

 Yep, she was right. She sighed as she finished off her bread. She knew very well that in a case like this, it was probably a good idea to tell the truth. After all, it wasn’t like it mattered if she was ratting out others. She was probably never going to see the other members of this particular party ever again. She looked back at Snape, who was also beginning to finish off his own meal.

“Alright,” she said.

“Alright what?”

“Alright, I’ll tell you. But am I going to get in more trouble for this?”

“That depends,”

Rose took a deep breath, summoning up all her courage. “It was my fifth year, when Umbridge had control of the school. I had some acquaintances in Ravenclaw that were in their seventh year. We kept talking about ways to get back at Umbridge, you know?”

“These acquaintances of yours, what were their names?”

“ _That_ I will not say, but one of them had learned the potion beforehand. I’m not sure how or why, but she did. They came up with this idea to brew the potion and then pass it on to my friend’s boyfriend. He was going to slip it into her tea.”

What Rose heard next was the most startling thing she had encountered that day. It was the sound of Snape laughing to himself behind his hand. “Do you find this amusing, Professor?” asked Rose.

“No, Miss Beckett. I just got the mental image of Dolores Umbridge under the influence,” Snape explained, not looking up. “Oh, that’s rich!”

“You see my point then?” Rose smirked. “It would have been hysterical.”

“I take it that you never carried out this little plan of yours?”

“They never started the potion. People were starting to catch on and I told them to back off before it got back to Umbridge somehow.” Rose looked at Snape with a look of complete honesty. “Sir, you can test me under Veritaserum. I have never brewed that potion and I never intend to. I never want to use that knowledge for my own benefit.”

Snape studied her face intently. The girl did look honest enough, and her voice held the same integrity. In fact, it was possibly the most honest of any student he had seen all day. He did not want to allow himself to admit defeat to this young Gryffindor, but in his exhausted state of mind, he wasn’t left with many options.

“It’s believable,”

“It is?” Rose exclaimed, unable to believe that she had done what a Gryffindor had never been able to do for years.

“You seem honest enough. But don’t think that I won’t take up your offer about testing you under Veritaserum.”

Rose rolled her eyes. Oh well, it was cool while it lasted. Snape continued. “Because if I did, and found out that was a lie, I _will_ turn you into the Ministry on drug charges. Oh, I wonder if they would be kind to you and just put you through potion addiction therapy at St. Mungo’s.”

The red-haired witch was unmoved. “Professor, I’m not lying.”

“After seventeen years of teaching, you learn to know better.”

Rose stood up and brought her plate over to Snape’s desk, setting it down atop his plate. “But you believe me, right? I’m not in trouble?”

Snape shrugged, too tired to even bother with a better answer. But Rose was insulted by this. She backed away, clenching her fists. “You just don’t care, do you?” The Potions master let his eyes roll to the ceiling as he downed the last of his wine. “If I’m honest, Miss Beckett, I didn’t care if I got an answer out of you.”

“Unbelievable!” Rose exclaimed.

“You know, it seems to me that I might not be the only one here tonight who doesn’t care these days.”

“Care to elaborate, Professor?” Rose arched her eyebrow.

“If you ask me, you don’t care about this class anymore. Your lousy marks give that away.”

“My grades haven’t changed.”

“Bollocks!” exclaimed Snape, snapping his head up. “Don’t think that I didn’t notice how your grades began to fall after your O.W.L.s. And now you have quite a bit of catching up to do, don’t you? Care to explain yourself there?”

“I’m sure you know how hard it is to get a fair mark when Slughorn is more interested in someone who doesn’t deserve the credit,” said Rose. “You are no better, but at least you were fair. Those slipping grades you were so quick to point out, I chalk it up to unfair favoritism. My abilities have never had any bearing on them whatsoever.”

“Apparently, today you were too dense to realize that I was asking you Third to Fourth year questions.”

“Oh, and I suppose that means that I don’t care?” Snape could detect a hint of sarcasm in the girl’s voice. So he answered, just as sarcastically, “Either that or you prove my original point that you’re completely daft and hopelessly incompetent.”

Suddenly, Rose rushed forward and planted her hands on Snape’s desk. She stared straight into his cold black eyes. “What is your problem?” she asked. “You’ve been barking up a tree all damn day, terrorizing anyone with the misfortune to get in your way. I’m not the only one they’re talking about up there. I can recall at least three different First years whom you ridiculed to the point where you made them cry. And I’m almost embarrassed to say that because of you, Hufflepuff is leading the houses with just two hundred and seventy points.”

“You are a very brave young lady to ask such a bold question,” said Snape in a low voice.

“Will you stop mocking me?!” Rose demanded. “With all that’s happened today, I deserve some kind of explanation.”

Snape snarled. “Who are you to say what you deserve?”

Rose backed away with a strong huff. She turned to Snape’s office, still needing to finish her work. “You know, a lot of people have been telling me to have some patience with you. So far, it’s been one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do. And yet, I’m still trying. Perhaps you can consider doing the same for me; that is unless Dumbledore has already given you a talking-to.” She pushed the door open.

“You try to have patience with anyone when you are completely sick to your stomach.”

Rose stopped dead in her tracks. Snape, now silently holding his breath, watched her with wide eyes. What had possessed him to say that so suddenly? But that thought was nothing compared to the realization that he had just opened up to a student, the Beckett girl of all people. And now that she knew this, she would probably do everything in her power to ruin what was left of his night.

Rose slowly turned back to face the Potions master, and to Snape’s surprise, her face was long and her eyes were ripe with concern. She looked like she had just realized some critical mistake. “Are you serious?” her voice was small as her brow wrinkled. “You were ill today?”

Snape slowly and reluctantly nodded. “Yes, I was,” he said, not even trying to deny anything anymore.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Last I checked, I was not required to inform my students when I’m not feeling well.”

“It would have been nice to have a warning,” Rose suggested.

“Even so, you still would have been late, and you still would not have noticed.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to notice.”

“Perhaps I like to keep the lot of you out of my business.”

Rose shook her head, her gaze falling to her shifting feet. “But that’s not very fair, to any of us or to you.”

“My heart bleeds,” Snape rolled his eyes.

“Sick to your stomach; it had to have been pretty awful for your temper to hang by a thread like that. Did you have anything else?”

“I’ve been persistently nauseous, I’ve been lightheaded, and now thanks to you, I have a splitting headache.”

“No wonder you were in such a rotten mood. Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?”

“If you must know, no I haven’t. I believe this to be a mild bug, and that it will pass in time.”

“Well, have you at least –,”

“Miss Beckett,” Snape stopped her, holding up his hand. “Your concerns touch me, but I don’t need to be lectured by you. I will say this only once; shut up and stay out of my business.”

Rose sighed before disappearing into the office. She fell to her knees to tidy up the last two piles of debris; stalling really. A great number of things were buzzing around in her head. But as hard as she tried to forget it, Snape’s sudden revelation had embedded itself in her brain. She began to piece together the day’s happenings. Sure, Snape had been in a far fouler mood lately. But not once did she consider that it had something to do with his health. Why didn’t she think of that? Though her loathing for the man was still burning in her gut, guilt was building up in her chest. No more than an hour ago, she had snickered at his stress headache as revenge. But the image of the frail man hunched over a toilet bowl, retching and miserable was one that Rose found disturbing. It was almost sad really. Was this what Dumbledore had popped in to discuss? Some voice inside her head was telling her not to, but Rose felt a bit sorry for him. Maybe it was just in the Gryffindor’s nature to find sympathy in people’s ills, no matter who they were. But still, he was the reason she was on the floor sweeping. Stomach bug or not, she should still have good reason to be angry. But why was she having such a hard time finding it?

She quickly finished sweeping and disposed of the last shards of glass. Her pace quickened as she walked back into the classroom to retrieve her things. Snape hadn’t moved from his place at the front of the room.”Your office is done,” she told him. “I did as best I could. You can have people in there tomorrow and none will be the wiser.”

“Very well, Miss Beckett,” said Snape as he retrieved Rose’s wand from its drawer prison and handed it back to her. “Report back here tomorrow night at seven thirty. I also expect you to be among the first to arrive to class, if you know what is good for you. You’re dismissed.”

The tired student turned on her heels, wand and excess clothing in hand. But just before she could reach the door, she stopped. Her mind was racing with conscience; a battle of morals was raging. Some unseen devil and angel were going at each other like mad dogs in heat.

The angel came out victorious.

“Professor Snape?” she said, grabbing the Potions master’s attention as he approached his closed office door.

“Yes?” he turned to her lethargically.

Rose swallowed hard. “About today, and the things that I said. I just wanted to say that…that…that I’m sorry. If I had known that you weren’t feeling well in class, I don’t think I would have reacted in that way.” She waited for a reply from Snape, but only got a blank stare. He appeared to be unmoved by her words. Now feeling hurt, she made one last attempt.

“If you have a heart, sir, I hope you can find it somewhere in it to accept my apology.” She turned back to the door. “You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t even have to believe me. But it would lift a weight off my shoulders if I knew that you weren’t going to hold this against me. Please, don’t torture me by making me feel worse than I already do. Good night, sir.” Rose’s form was consumed by darkness as the door closed behind her.

Severus crept across his spotless office floor to his desk. He fell back into his chair with a deep sigh. He scratched his head, thinking of what had just happened. Very puzzled, he reached into a low drawer and grabbed hold of a dark bottle. It was just for nights like this that he kept his secret stash of sherry. He popped off the cork, hoping that intoxication would relieve him of this befuddlement.

Had he heard right? Did the girl just apologize to him? This was so odd. Students never apologized to him, not unless it would save them from more trouble. And even when they did, they didn’t speak to him with a tone that mimicked that of someone speaking before the Ministry of Magic. How very un-Gryffindor-like, Severus thought. But it wasn’t the action as much as the motivation that bothered him. Was that out of genuine regret, or did his little slip of the tongue get to her? Words could not describe the wizard’s confusion. He took a long swig of the deep amber liquor.

He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or his sheer exhaustion, but strangely, there was something about Rose’s apology that was getting to him. Her honesty was one thing. Severus had been lied to many times in his life, and yet he felt that this was not one of those times. With the timid quality in her voice, Severus didn’t need to invade her mind to be sure of that. Make no mistake; he had seen right through her polite demeanor when she first arrived, revealing the true ego behind it (thank you Legilimency!) But was it possible that she gave that up when she was left alone to think? And as much as it repulsed Severus to do so, he had to admit a very small, grudging respect for Rose. She had the courage to do what far too few Gryffindors before her had done. She had stood up to him, taken responsibility for her wrongs, and accepted defeat with little fight. Now, if only her little friends would have enough sense to do the same from time to time.

Severus took one last swig of his drink as he took hold of his quill. Though his reasoning was masked by booze and confusion, Severus had been moved by the young woman’s words. He stared at the parchment before him. Action had to be taken on his part; he owed that much to Rose. There was no way he was going to lift her detentions; she wasn’t going to get off that easily. But she did deserve something. Severus thought for a while. Then slowly, as though not wanting to accept his own actions, he wrote it down.

_One hundred points to Gryffindor_

There, it was done. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to return all three hundred of those lost points; not a snowflake’s chance in Hell! But this at least would bring Gryffindor up out of the negative range and back up to zero. And much to the greasy haired wizard’s satisfaction, they were still trailing behind the other houses. But still, he had done enough for them. Come the morning, the students would be stunned and amazed. The teachers would be flabbergasted. And poor Rose Beckett would be hounded with questions. She and everyone else would only be left to wonder. The only other person who would see this little note would be Minerva. Other than that, Severus would not admit to anything for anything.

Stuffing the folded note into his robe pocket, Severus tucked his bottle of sherry back in its hiding place. Then he got up to leave before he could change his mind. His head was heavy and his tired eyes were screaming for sleep. Turning the Beckett girl into a Muggle maid was nice, but right now, only one thing mattered.

Bed…sleep…now!


	8. The importance of maintaining your dignity

Rose rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes as she carefully descended the steps, heading for the Great hall. She shook her hair out of her face, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles. She softly chuckled at the sharp noise. Though a little groggy, she felt worlds better after eight hours of uninterrupted slumber. Hopefully, today would also be better, if the dewy sunlight was anything to go by. She took in a deep breath at that pleasant idea.

Beside her, Harry attempted to not drag his feet. The Head Boy had overslept slightly after a long night of procrastinated reading, and had been relieved to stumble across Rose in the common room. He praised some higher power that he wasn’t the last one in the tower.

“I tell you, Rose,” he yawned. “That’s the last time I leave Herbology reading until the night before.”

“You know, you’ve said that,” said Rose. “And you never learn.”

“What if I said that I was serious this time?”

“Harry, you’re a nice guy, but you can be a piece of work sometimes.”

“You should stop hanging around Hermione, Rose. You’re starting to sound like her.”

“You see? That’s what I mean. Maybe you should lay off Weasley for a while.”

“Do you know how wrong that just sounded?”

Rose thought for a moment, but her face suddenly went blank as their feet touched the stone floor that led to the Great Hall. Harry struggled to contain his laughter as he stared at her terrifically funny expression. Rose also started to laugh at herself, closed eyes falling to the floor.

“Harry, do me a favor and forget I said that,” she said.

“No problem,” Harry yawned again. The brief moment of lethargic relapse caused Rose to also yawn widely, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. They continued around the corner to where breakfast waited for them.

Both were jogged out of their walking twilight when they were met by a small crowd of their young housemates. Voices were raised until they steadily became white noise, sounding everything from excited to plain confused.

“How did it happen?”

“What did you do?”

“What did you do to Snape?”

“Hey, hey, cool it!” Harry shouted above the kids, drawing the attention of other students around them. “What are you all talking about?”

“Look at our points!” a little blonde Second year pointed up to the front of the hall. Both Harry and Rose followed his hand, and both let their jaws hit the floor at what they saw. The extra jar of rubies that represented one hundred nonexistent points had vanished and their glass had leveled out. They were out of the negative range again. They pushed through the crowd of children and rushed over to where Ron and Hermione sat with their contemporaries.

“When did that happen?” Harry asked as he not-so-subtly pointed to the hourglass.

“My guess would be last night or early today,” said Hermione, buttering a slice of toast.

“Mione, it’s only eight thirty,” said Ron. “It had to be last night.”

“Hold on, last night? But that would mean…” Harry’s finger shifted to Rose, whose eyes had gone wide with realization. “Oh no!” she gasped, shaking her head. “It can’t be!”

“Rose, that has to be around a hundred points,” Parvati pointed out as the two late-comers sat down. “What happened when you were in detention?”

“Yeah Beckett, what did you do to level us out?” asked Dean.

“You ask me like I know,” Rose helped herself to a bowl of cereal. “And even if I did, what makes you think it was me?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that we get a hundred points back less than a day after you lose three hundred and get detention?” said Neville, who was pushing the last of his eggs around his plate. “Anyone would suspect that you had something to do with it.”

Rose sighed. “Anyone but me. Nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. I went there, Snape gave me orders, I spent hours cleaning up someone else’s mistake, and then I left. It’s just a coincidence.” She was careful to leave out certain details, unsure of what would happen if it got back to Snape. Rose quickly glanced over her shoulder to pick him out at the head table, but was slightly disturbed when she noticed that the Potions master was missing from among the other teachers.

“It must have been a hell of a mistake,” said Ron, retrieving Rose’s attention. “Hermione said you didn’t get in until almost eleven.”

“Oh, it was terrible!” Rose shook her head. “Abysmal failure! I feel bad for whoever’s potion that was. But I’ll have you know that when we get down there, none of you will be able to tell where it was.”

“Snape make you do it by hand?” asked Harry, ripping off a bite of toast.

“Has he ever let anyone do it with magic?” Rose asked back with a slightly cocked brow. “All the more reason to be proud of a job well done.”

“How did Snape treat you?” Neville spoke up again. “Did he try to ridicule you the whole time?”

“No Neville, he and I had a lively chat about the Royal family over tea and biscuits. Of course, he did! But he mostly tried to ignore me, like I was just a thorn in his side or something.”

Lavender looked nothing but confused. “Nothing happened?”

“Yes Lav, I believe I already made that point.” Rose tucked into her cereal before continuing. “What were you expecting, Snape using me for target practice?”

“Well, it would have made more sense,” said Seamus.

“Please, just being in the same room was torture enough for both of us.” Rose rolled her eyes.

“And to think that you still have got what, sixteen nights left?”

“Thank you for being so kind as to remind Rose of that, Seamus,” Hermione quietly scolded.

“Hey, I’ll leave it alone when you get us back the other two hundred points.”

Rose growled as she set down her spoon and rested her chin on her hands. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in over the table. “Honestly Seamus, she would have to give Snape a blow job or something to make that happen.”

The other Seventh years suddenly fell silent, taking in that last comment. Ron’s face turned a pale green and he pushed his plate away. “Well…that ruined my appetite.”

**~HP~**

Hermione and Rose opted to stay behind when the others decided to get a head start on the walk to Herbology. Rose was still quite hungry after the day before, and had decided to chase her cereal with three pieces of toast smothered in strawberry jam. Hermione took advantage of this, using it as an excuse to look over her finished homework for a second time. When the two girls eventually started for the greenhouses, Rose was still nibbling on pink-stained crust, giving her the appearance of a starving squirrel.

They weren’t in the halls for three minutes when Hermione spoke up. “So tell me Rose, what happened last night? I mean, what _really_ happened?”

“Ah, you can see right through me now, can you?” Rose sighed.

“Well Rose, even you have to admit that the timing of those points was very odd. And as much as I want to believe you, something just isn’t adding up.”

Rose smirked. “You’re good. I’m surprised Harry didn’t demand you do that thirty minutes ago.”

“Very funny, but notice how you avoid my question. Nothing at all happened in detention?”

“Nothing that anyone needs to know about.” The red-haired witch poker-faced the brunette one.

“Oh-ho!” Hermione suddenly perked up. “Which means that there’s something that I need to know about.”

Now Rose was laughing. “There’s no need to get excited, Mione.”

“Just tell me,” Hermione demanded.

“Not now,”

“Please,”

“Cut it out,”

“Don’t make me deduct points, you stubborn witch.”

Rose almost skidded to a halt and turned around to where Hermione had stopped a second before. “Quick to turn on your friends, are you Head Girl?”

“Come on Rose, just tell me and get it over with,” Hermione tried to reason with her friend.

Rose wrinkled her eyebrows as her blue eyes shifted back and forth around the hall. To Hermione, she looked uneasy and a bit careful. “Do you promise to keep this quiet?”

“Of course, whatever you say.”

Rose was looking around again for people when her searching eye found the door to the girl’s loo. Smiling, she motioned for Hermione to follow her inside. Once the door lock clicked behind them, both girls set their books down on the sinks. Rose turned back to Hermione, who was leaning against the wall with an anxious expression. A quick look at six unlocked cubicle doors reassured her of their privacy.

“I apologized to Snape last night.”

“You did what?” Hermione raised her brow in surprise.

“I apologized to –,”

“I heard that part,” the Head Girl was shaking her hands at her friend. “But what? You apologized to Snape, _really_ apologized?”

“Yeah,” said Rose.

“Why?”

“Well, with all that time to think last night, it just occurred to me that it was the right thing to do. So I said I was sorry for how I acted in class.”

“Well, I’ll be…” Hermione smiled. “That’s amazing! After all that, you came to your senses.”

Rose laughed softly. “I know, crikey right?”

“What convinced you?” asked Hermione, quite curious.

“Someone had to be the good guy, right?” Again, Rose felt it was necessary to keep the whole truth to herself. But Hermione didn’t buy that for a minute. “Rose, I know you too well. Why would you say you’re sorry to a man who spent the night bullying you?”

“Well…” Rose searched her mind for the safest explanation. “Something made me change my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s just say that I got the idea that Snape’s day wasn’t much better than mine was.” Rose said this with a shake of her head. Her eyes slowly wandered up to the high ceiling. Hermione cocked her head to the side, a bit bemused. Rose seemed to understand her silent question as she said, “It was something he said.”

“What was that?” asked Hermione.

Rose quickly walked over to the cubicles, knocking open the doors and peering in as she passed by. Sure that they were totally alone, she walked back over to the sinks and hoisted herself up to sit on one of the brims. “Listen Hermione, this has got to stay between you and me, okay?” she urged her friend.

Hermione was unsure as to why Rose was going to great lengths to keep this all secret, but she still tried to accept that she had some reason behind it. She nodded with a reassuring smile. Rose composed herself with a quick breath. “Snape told me that he wasn’t feeling his best yesterday.”

She almost missed the look of utter surprise in Hermione’s eyes, brown eyebrows lifting and her delicate lips parting. The red-haired witch went on further. “You should have seen him, Mione. He looked positively awful while I was there. I mean, he never looked too good to begin with, but last night was something else.”

“What was wrong with him?”

“I think he’s got some kind of stomach virus. He hinted that he’d been feeling nauseous, and I would be lying to you if I didn’t once think he was going to be sick at any moment.”

Hermione shook her head, forcing an exhale. “So that explains why he’s been so overbearing lately. Why didn’t we think of that?”

“To be honest, I thought the same thing,” said Rose. “But he’s been that way since we first got back. I doubt he’s been ill for that long.”

“But what if he has?” Hermione was quick to throw out every possibility she could think of.

“I don’t know, Mione,” Rose shrugged. “And even if he has been sick for a while, I don’t see why that should matter to us except to cause us to dread Potions.”

“It obviously mattered to you. After all, you _did_ apologize to him. You did that because you felt sorry for him, didn’t you?”

Rose, quite shocked by her friend’s audacity, slid off the sink she sat on and settled on her feet. She didn’t really want to admit to Hermione that the latter was right, though the reason why escaped her. She thought for a quick moment. “Be serious,” she started.

“I am,” Hermione interrupted. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Rose tried to come up with some sort of excuse, but she only realized that this was Hermione Granger she was speaking to. The brilliant girl would figure out the truth sooner or later. Rose also realized that if she had to spill her guts to someone, it would be to Hermione. She was a good friend, and good friends always allowed themselves to be talked into the floor by others.

“Yes, alright, I felt bad for him,” she finally admitted. “You would too if you had heard him last night.”

Hermione’s eyes then thinned out, a tweak tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I have to ask, Rose. Did you say you were sorry because you felt a bit guilty after finding that out?”

Rose unconsciously rolled her eyes before pointing a pale finger at Hermione. “Don’t you dare let that slip to anyone. I don’t want people knowing that I apologized in the first place, let alone because I felt a tiny bit guilty.”

“I thought that was very admirable of you,” said Hermione, trying to be of some help.

“You do, but I don’t think many others will,” Rose’s voice sounded like she had been discouraged by such thoughts. “If anything, people will think I’m too soft. We’re Gryffindors, and he’s Head of Slytherin House. That’s just embarrassing.”

“You’ve been hanging around Seamus and Dean too much,” Hermione laughed. “You did the right thing and you know it.”

Rose laughed along with her, but not without a little effort. She knew that Hermione was trying to make her feel good, but the mention of her housemates seemed to cast a little cloud over her mood. If Rose assumed that she would be able to tell this story to any other Gryffindor and get away with it, then she really didn’t know her house. Yes, she did the right thing, but others would not see it that way, her year-mates in particular.

Rose had always had her difficulties when faced with low opinions of her, no matter whose they were. It was often quite enough to have Parkinson causing her trouble for no reason, save the Slytherin’s own boredom. But the last two days had been hell in a hand basket. Having those closest to her think such things of her was eating away at Rose’s mind. She realized that most of them probably didn’t know what they were doing; something that Hermione would be quick to remind her of. But that didn’t stop the unsettling insecurity from creeping into Rose’s usually confident spirit. Hermione was one of the very few people to ever get a glimpse of this private vulnerability, and now she was the only one left in the student body. But for Rose, it was better to only have one person see that side of her. She, like many before her, believed it was a weakness to expose yourself in such a way.

Hermione would have continued in her verbal applaud if she hadn’t looked down at her watch to see that they were running out of time to race to Herbology. Instead, she showed her appreciation with a light hug before they grabbed their things and left the lavatory. She also reiterated that their conversation would stay between her and Rose; Ron would not hear it unless it was coming from Rose’s mouth. Though her mind was cluttered with unneeded concerns, Rose thanked the high heavens that she still had one good friend to lean on these days.

**~HP~**

Severus wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could already feel the gunk building up on his scalp as he stood over a boiling cauldron. Poppy Pomfrey had requested a few crates of Pepper-up and Anti-flu Potions, and that had kept Severus busy for most of the evening. He had just started the second batches for both. Thank Merlin that he was in better health for the time being. He still dealt with a bout of nausea that had kept him in his quarters until the start of classes, but that was the worst of it. In fact, he felt perfectly fine by the time the befuddled Seventh years shuffled into class that afternoon. Severus took great delight in such confusion, though he was a bit disappointed that he had missed their initial reactions at breakfast. Listening to Minerva recall what she saw over quiet tea just didn’t do any justice.

The Potions master was working in his classroom; with two potions brewing, the heat would have been unbearable in his office. When had he become so sensitive to high heat? It would have been easier to work there anyway. Beckett was due to arrive for detention at any moment, and Severus was expecting that she would follow through with her attempts to get back on his good side. It was nearly impossible for a Gryffindor to do that, and though she knew this, it didn’t stop her from trying. She had arrived on time for class, apparently just as confused as her classmates. Snape was pleased with himself at the idea, but he did find it odd that the girl had trouble looking at him. No doubt that she and the Dream Team had a little chat. Severus rolled his eyes; like being stuck with her for several days would be made any easier with those simpletons planting ideas in her head.

As the clock struck at half past seven, Rose rushed in as though she thought she was late. Panting lightly, she nodded her head to Snape, who had looked up from stirring one of his cauldrons. “Good evening, sir,” she said, trying to be polite.

“I thank you for your promptness, Miss Beckett,” said Snape. He pointed to an opposite corner where nearly twenty filthy cauldrons were stacked up. “I took the liberty of informing the First years that they would be having their cauldrons scrubbed out for them.”

He noticed as Rose sighed with defeat. “As you wish,” she nodded. She pulled out her wand and handed it over to Snape. In return, she got a small, hard shoe brush. She tried to suppress a smile as her eyebrow twitched.

“What are you smirking at?” sneered Snape, his coal black eyes narrowing.

“I thought that you would make me use something like a toothbrush.”

Snape rolled his eyes; that had actually crossed his mind at some point. “Miss Beckett, I don’t have the time for something like that.”

“Oh?”

“If you used a toothbrush, it would take you five days. What’s the use in wasting such time on one task?”

Rose’s pale forehead wrinkled. “I bet I could do it in three days.” The glare she received from Snape made Rose realize that she was challenging him. She quickly stopped talking and carried the first cauldron over to the sink. There was no way she was going to let her mouth get her in trouble again.

It was awkward, very awkward. Though the room was not totally silent, the absence of speech did a number on the comfort levels of both student and teacher. They tried to stay completely focused on their respective tasks, but the unsaid tension hung over their heads. Both thought that it might have been better if they were still beside themselves with anger. It was Rose who broke the silence.

“What are you doing there?”

Snape glared at her. Did she have to go from ignoring him one night to trying to make conversation the next? “What does it look like I’m doing? Madam Pomfrey needed some potions made.”

Rose sniffed the air. “Is that Pepper-up?”

“You should know. It was part of today’s lesson.” The Potions master let his tired glare fall back down to his work.

Rose stepped away from the cauldron in the sink, absentmindedly letting it fill with water. She tried to peer over into the bubbling brew. “Aren’t we supposed to brew that tomorrow?”

“You know well that I will not tell you that,” said Snape. “And even if you were brewing this, by watching me, you could be accused of cheating.”

The girl’s eyes thinned out, clearly not amused by such an idea. _‘Oh yeah, as if I don’t have enough detention as it is.’_

Snape motioned to the sink and the overflowing cauldron. “Get back to work, Beckett, and leave me to my own.” The young witch suppressed a growl as she dunked her hand in the water in search of the brush.

Five clean cauldrons lay to the side when Rose realized that sweat was trickling down the sides of her face. She thought the room was toasty when she first got there, but now it was sweltering. Was it necessary to have two intense burners going at the same time? She looked up at Snape; perspiration was pouring off of his temples as he carefully bottled the Pepper-up. He looked like his concentration would cause him to pass out.

“Professor, are you almost finished?” asked Rose, stripping off her robe. “No means to be rude, but it’s really hot in here.”

Snape didn’t so much as glance at her. “If it bothers you so much, then why don’t you dunk that pretty little face of yours into the water?”

“I can handle it,” Rose shook her head. “I just wanted to know how much longer I’ll be sweating off weight.”

“Keep your knickers on, Miss Beckett…please,” Snape urged sarcastically. “You’ve tolerated worse in my classes, you can shut up for a few hours.” Rose turned back to her chore, but not before throwing a quick little sneer at her professor. Snape snarled under his breath.

Half an hour passed by with more than a little notice. Having packed away the doses of Pepper-up, Severus had to wait impatiently for the second brew to mature. Slaving over a hot cauldron for the best part of four hours had killed his energy, and the unrelenting heat certainly didn’t help. He was debating if he should turn in for the night once he’d finished when he looked down to see that he was missing the last ingredient. He growled to himself; of course he had to forget something in the storeroom. He was about to make a move to fetch it when he had a thought.

“Miss Beckett,” He got Rose’s attention as she was vigorously scrubbing her tenth cauldron. “Go into my storeroom and find the bottle of crushed violent petals. Bring it to me.”

“Yes Professor,” Rose nodded. She dropped her brush in the sink and calmly walked over to Snape’s office, disappearing behind the door.

Severus eased down into his hard, wooden chair and leaned his elbows on the table as he cradled his head. It was so odd; he never used to be so tired in the evenings. In past years, he could work until the early hours of the morning with no trouble. Now, he struggled to make it to eleven o’clock. And for Severus, demanding that a student go and fetch something for him was just ridiculous. Really, he thought, his mysterious stomach upsets were bad enough. Did it have to get much worse?

A few minutes passed before Rose reentered the room, a little blue bottle in her hand. She placed it on the table in front of Snape. “There you are, sir,” she said. “If I can make a suggestion, perhaps you should put new labels on those jars. Some of them were pretty hard to make out.”

The Potions master didn’t say a word; he just uncorked the bottle and tapped in a pinch of the dark dried plant particles. The potion slowly turned a dark, royal blue color. Rose went back to the sink. Snape thought for a moment, eyeing the Gryffindor. All he had to do was bottle up the Anti-flu Potion and he was through for the night. He would make a Sixth year carry them up to the hospital wing in the morning. But in the mean time, he had to consider his options. He would much rather be tucked up in his quarters than watch the Beckett girl wash dishes. And judging from the strength of her scrubbing, Rose wanted to get out of there just as quickly. Severus lowered the heat under the potion; while he had Rose at his beck and call, why not take advantage of it?

“Beckett,”

Rose’s eyes cautiously shifted to Snape. “Yes?”

“Come here.” The greasy, dark haired wizard motioned for her to come closer. Nervously, Rose set aside her tenth clean cauldron and walked over to him. Snape stared at her tensing face. “There is enough Anti-flu Potion here for thirty-five doses, and they all need to be bottled. Frankly, I don’t have much desire to be trapped here with you for much longer. Can I trust you to assist me so that we both can be out of here sooner?”

“Yes Professor, anything you say,” said Rose, missing the insult in the request. “What do you want me to do with the rest of the cauldrons?”

“Leave them. You can finish them tomorrow night.”

“Oh…” Rose sounded surprised. “Thanks, I guess.” Snape then silently summoned two clean ladles and handed one to the unusually awkward student.

The two of them worked together at a slow pace; Anti-flu Potion was a fair bit thicker than a pure liquid. Sweat continued to drip off their foreheads as they filled, corked and stored the tiny bottles. As he worked, Severus noticed that every time he would even glance at Rose, her eyes would snap away. She was also a bit shifty in her posture as she stood in front of his desk. She was acting just as, if not more suspicious than she did in class. Severus didn’t need to ponder this for too long; watching her gave it away. Something was going on in her head.

“Is there something you wish to say, Miss Beckett?”

In her mind, Rose was cursing the world because she couldn’t be more discreet. But she couldn’t exactly lie to Snape because he would automatically see it for what it was. The red-haired witch held her breath; it was now or never. “Um, yes…can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” Snape was more than a little curious.

“Was it you who gave Gryffindor all those points?”

Ah, that was it. Severus Snape was not a stupid man; he knew that after that kind of shock, this was bound to come up. It all just depended on if Rose had the guts to think of asking. His face held no emotion as he blinked slowly. “Part of it, yes.” He lied, not wanting to give the Gryffindor the satisfaction of the full truth.

Rose eyes widened to absurd levels of surprise. “Really? Why did you do it?”

Snape suppressed the urge to laugh at the look on the student’s face. “Now Miss Beckett, I’m sure that you have already figured that out, that is if someone else didn’t do it for you.”

“We’ve had our suspicions,” Rose sighed with frustration. “But I for one would like to have a clue about what really happened.”

Snape also sighed, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was out of exhaustion or his disdain for Rose’s persistence. He rolled his eyes as he turned his gaze back to the simmering blue liquid. “If you are so desperate to know, then here you have it. It was because of your little apology last night.”

“Was it really?” said Rose, her mouth curling into a smile. “Professor Snape, I’m touched. So you forgave me after all?”

“I never said that,” The pale, sickly man watched that smile disappear as fast as it came. “I merely thought it appropriate to give you the prize you were no doubt seeking when you got up the bollocks to do that. Lord knows that none of those blundering brats you call friends would have thought of such a thing.”

Rose’s lips thinned out; she wasn’t mad at this pointless insult to her friends, but for the total misconception of herself at the end of last night’s session. It was fairly obvious to her that Snape saw nothing in her than the glory whore she apparently was supposed to be. She now wondered why she even bothered to be so civil to him in the face of his weaknesses.

“That’s not true. Harry and Hermione would have done the same thing if they had been in my place.”

“Or so you think,” Snape set aside the bottle he had just finished filling. “I don’t believe that Potter would have been so saintly in light of last night’s situation. You ought to know by now that the lot of you would never admit defeat in some lengthy Hufflepuff-like explanation.”

“Again sir, that is not true.” Irritation began to creep into Rose’s voice. “Just because you hardly ever see it, that doesn’t mean that it never happens. I admit that I was wrong, does that mean nothing? If you ask me, you should feel lucky that I even felt sorry for you last night.”

“So says the proud Gryffindor,” Snape sneered viciously. “You seem to think it’s a good thing to wear your heart on your sleeve. And yet it is exactly that that has us standing here tonight. Hmm…since you don’t seem to be in the mood to deny, surely you will admit that you did give your ego a little boost last night. I wasn’t there this morning, but I’ll bet you loved that attention, retelling your story to anyone who would listen.”

Just then, there was a sudden loud yelp. Rose, distracted from her task, had let her angry eyes wander away from her ladle and unceremoniously poured a generous amount of hot potion over her fingers. She dropped both ladle and bottle as she rushed over to the sink. The bottle shattered on the floor in front of the desk. Snape shook his head as Rose ran her hand under cold water.

Rose breathed hard against the pain, trying her best to stay composed. After a few moments, she shut the water off and flexed her fingers. The burns were still quite painful, but not unbearably so. She hissed away the stinging; good thing she had bandages in the dormitory. She turned back to the snide professor as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t tell anyone that I did that.”

A black eyebrow arched as Snape stared at Rose. He certainly hadn’t expected that, much less from her. “Really? No one?” He dared her to swear to this supposed truth.

“No one,” Rose reaffirmed. Snape did not believe her; she most likely blabbed to at least one of her friends. Granger had also been oddly quiet in class, which really sparked the wizard’s curiosity. But still, the confusion of the other Seventh years suggested that they really didn’t know what Rose had done. Something wasn’t adding up in Severus’s mind.

“You cannot expect me to believe that you did not tell one single person. I’ve heard talk that you were so kind to retell your side of yesterday’s story.”

Rose reached for a bottle, avoiding looking Snape in his obsidian eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not overly fond of that kind of attention.”

“Say that to my face,” Snape demanded, boring into the witch’s pale face. Rose did not falter; she merely blinked as she snapped her head in his direction. “Being the center of attention is not my favorite pastime, and I usually don’t go looking for it. And even if I do, it certainly isn’t for arrogance.”

“You don’t say,” said Snape. “I don’t think I’ve met a bigger hypocrite than you at the moment.”

Rose carefully grasped her ladle, wincing as the metal touched red skin. “As I was not in my right mind yesterday, I would not count that as intentional.”

“That, Miss Beckett, is horse shit.”

Rose couldn’t stop herself from flinching at the professor’s sudden swear. But shock was quickly forgotten as fury shot up her throat, her eyes burning. Snape continued. “Sooner or later, you are going to have to put an end to this pointless denial, if I can even still call it that. You knew exactly what you were doing all of yesterday, and no headache or amount of frustration can justify that.”

The Gryffindor would have broken another bottle if she hadn’t caught herself. Instead, she gently set down the delicate glass, colored by the brew. But then Rose took a step back. “So now you’re calling me a liar,” she said in a low voice.

“I don’t believe that I said that,” Snape had gone back to his share of the work. “Although I have to say it would be incredibly stupid to believe every word that comes from a child’s mouth.”

“Alright then, if you want proof, then why don’t you come and get it?” Rose hopped up to sit on the nearest student desk. “Harry tells me that you can read minds.”

The weary Potions master was taken aback, nearly dropping one of his own bottles. My, this girl certainly had gotten sassy as of late! But what the hell did he have to do to put an end to it? He silently contemplated a word with Minerva when opportunity presented itself. “Nice to know that Potter is still trying to get you ahead in your defense training,” he said, Potter’s name oozing with venom.

“Don’t turn this on Harry,” warned Rose. “I’m serious, sir. If you are a Legilimens, then why not use it on me right here, right now?”

The truth was that Legilimency took too much effort, effort that Severus really did not have. And yet again, he felt that he didn’t have to invade Rose’s thoughts; her face said it all. “It’s simple,” he said. “It’s because you are weak. Not much better than your dear friend Potter when I think about it. It would be too easy, just a waste of time and magic.”

Rose opened her mouth to fire back, but the words were caught in her throat. She didn’t know the depth of magical skill involved in Legilimency and Occlumency. Whatever scrappy knowledge she had came from _Prophet_ pages and the aforementioned wizard hero. If she knew anything, it was that so few had these abilities, and among these few were some of the greatest wizards to ever live. For Snape to say that Legilimency would be too easy on her, it was as though he was commenting directly on her abilities. To Rose, it felt like he was calling her a bad witch, mediocre at best. Rose felt her fiery anger quenched by cold hurt.

She slid off the desk. “Alright Professor, you win,” she said as she grasped her ladle. “But I’m not weak.” Snape simply rolled his eyes at her.

The awkward silence of before soon returned, but neither the witch nor the wizard made any effort to change that. Rose didn’t want to take any chances in pouring faster; one blistered hand was enough. Yet she still wished that she had not said such stupid things to make being with Snape any more unsettling. The Potions master, looking very tired and very hot, seemed to have taken to disregarding her careful help. She didn’t really expect for him to say anymore that evening. She gathered several sealed bottles in her hands and walked them over to the box that held the rest of the stock.

“If I might ask,” Rose almost jumped at Snape’s low voice. “Just why didn’t you tell the whole school that you apologized to me?”

Rose was unsure of how to answer. On one hand, she wanted to protect her humility, but even she had to admit that it was only a half-truth. There were some things that even Hermione couldn’t hear. She took a short breath. “If I’m honest, it was because of you,” she said, and the words unsaid slowly found their way to the surface. “It would have been impossible to tell people without also telling them why I did it in the first place. After yesterday, I thought that you could do without the unneeded attention.”

Severus did not cease to be surprised. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief that this young woman had remained considerate. “Really? And you got nothing out of it?”

“Well, I did save myself a ribbing from my housemates. But really Professor, it was mostly for you.”

Snape was suspicious. “Why do I have the feeling that this was not totally out of your own understanding?”

The girl offered a weak smile, shrugging. “I thought that being stuck with you would be easier if you weren’t angry with me again.”

“You thought I would be angry?”

“Are you serious? Of course, I did. I mean, see how nasty you are when I’m trying to have a civilized discussion.”

“That is merely because I find your sass and your sheer presence to be most irritating,” said Snape. Rose rolled her eyes. “In any case, it seemed to me that you didn’t want anyone else knowing that you were ill yesterday, and it seemed to me that I could spare myself another week’s detention if I kept my mouth shut.”

The two of them silently packed the filled bottles into the wooden box bound for the hospital wing. Rose dabbed the sweat from her face, letting lazy eyes fall onto Snape. The wizard seemed to grasp his desk and perspiration had given his face and hair a sickly shine. _‘The man looks right ready to faint,’_ Rose thought. She was still looking at him when he let out a deep sigh and met her gaze.

“Is it safe to assume that you will stay quiet about tonight as well?”

Rose nodded. “Yes sir, you have my word.”

“Good because I have something to say to you.” Rose was confused, wrinkling her fair eyebrows. Snape was uneasy as he glanced around the room, as though the Bloody Baron had a habit of floating through at this hour. Then he said, “I appreciate that you thought of more than just yourself. You were right to believe that I did not want attention drawn to myself. Given the circumstances, it was noble of you to respect my privacy.”

The eighteen year-old student was totally unsure of what to say at first, but after a moment of serious pondering, her lips tugged into a little smile. “You know Professor, I won’t think any less of you if you just say thank you.” The sneer that she received told her that this was wishful thinking.

Snape waved his wand and the empty, filthy cauldron floated over to the sink. “You can scrub that out, and then you can go,” he said, attempting to wipe the layer of sweat from his face. He eased down into his chair.

Before Rose went to recover the wet shoe brush, she looked again at her teacher’s sickly face and hollow eyes. Not stopping to think, she asked “Professor Snape, would you mind if I used my wand for a second?”

“Not until that cauldron is clean.”

“Then would you do me a favor and summon a glass?”

“You have some nerve, Beckett.” Snape rolled his black eyes and snapped his wand through the air. A goblet flew out of his office and over to his waiting hand. He held it out to Rose, who had already walked over to retrieve it. She then briskly went to fill it with water. Severus sighed; after sweating in that uniform, of course she would be thirsty. That reminded him of how slow and lightheaded he was feeling at the moment. In his head, he was commanding the Gryffindor to just drink her water and hurry up already. He rested his head in his hand, but then he heard a ‘clink’. Severus looked up to see the goblet of cool water in front of him. Rose was already gliding back to the corner, adjusting the ribbon that held her ginger ponytail.

“Drink that. You look like you need it more than I do.”


	9. What was missing

“So he took me out to the gardens and sat me down by the bushes of pink roses. You know the ones I’ve always liked?” Lavender was quite close to floating off the ground as she made her way through the castle’s sunlit halls. She was hell-bent on enjoying the glorious weather for a little while before they had to return to class. Behind her, Parvati was riding her robe hem and listening to every excited word. Next to her walked Rose, who was balancing a small stack of books in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other.

Lavender’s stunningly white smile threatened to blind unsuspecting children as they passed by. The blonde Gryffindor barely stopped for breath as she spoke more to thin air than to her two following friends. “You should have heard him. Justin sounded so nervous, but still so sweet when he said that there was a reason he wanted us to be alone. He told me that he never had so much in common with a girl before, and it didn’t hurt that I wasn’t bad looking. Then he said that he had never been happier than before we were hanging out, and he wants me to be a bigger part of his life. And then…he kissed me!”

Lavender let out a high squeal in spite of herself, prompting giggles from both Rose and Parvati. This was the first time Parvati had heard the full story behind her best friend’s newfound romantic status with Justin Finch-Fletchley, and was more than a little eager to hear the details. Rose however had managed to overhear Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan gossiping in the corridors on her way to Transfiguration. She had also seized the opportunity to gloat to her housemates when the news spread to them. After all, she told them that this would happen eventually. She fondly remembered the looks of utter relief in the faces of both Ron and Hermione.

“It was too good to be true!” Lavender continued. “I know I said that about Ron, but this was different. The feeling I had was just indescribable.”

“Oh Lav, I’m so happy for you,” said Parvati as the three girls were immersed in warm sunlight. They walked across the courtyard with no real destination. Rose crunched down on her apple, using her cuff to wipe away the juices running down her chin.

“Indescribable? Not bad for someone you’ve only been seriously pursuing for two months.”  

“Don’t you talk like that, Rose,” said Lavender, playfully swatting at her. “I really can’t describe it, it was so perfect.”

Rose shook her head, though not without a smile. “I believe you, but I’m sorry if I have my doubts.”

“You only say that because you’ve never felt that for yourself,” said Parvati.

“What are you saying?” asked Rose with a flaxen arch in her brow.

“She’s saying that it’s because you’ve never had a boyfriend.”

Rose gasped at Lavender’s comment, but what that did was make her catch a piece of apple in her throat. She coughed hard against it, struggling to catch her breath. Only when she dropped her books to grasp her neck did Parvati swiftly reach for her wand. “ _Anapneo!_ ” In a flash, the chunk flew out of Rose’s mouth. She took deep, rasping breaths as the color came back into her lips.

“You tried to kill me!” She pointed a thin finger at Lavender, who bent over to pick up her books.

“I’m sorry about that, Rose. I didn’t mean to make you choke.” Lavender sounded nothing but sincere.

“All I’ll say is that next time you have a thought like that, either word it differently or let it go.” Rose got her second wind and accepted her books. She then stunned her friends by choosing to take another bite of her apple. Parvati shook her head, shutting her eyes.

“I mean what I said though,” said Lavender, shaking out her hair. “Those doubts are probably because you’ve never been in a serious relationship.”

“Oi! How low of you, Lav!”

“Take it easy, Rose,” said Parvati. “She might have a point there.”

“Oh sure, take her side,” Rose shrugged. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Rose didn’t like that particular fact thrown around. “You know, I don’t hang around you two all the time. You could be completely wrong for all you know.”

Lavender snorted, quite amused. “Rose, if you had a whirlwind romance with some Muggle over the summer, I think we would know it by now.”

Rose thought about it for a moment. She had to hand it to her giddy blonde friend; she probably would have bragged a little if something of the sort did happen. “Touché,” she said, nodding. “Oh hell, but why are we turning this on me? I really am happy for you, Lav. Justin’s a great guy, and to tell you the truth, I think he’s a better match for you.”

“You really think so?”

“Sure,” Parvati agreed. “At least you and Justin actually talk to each other.”

Lavender laughed. “Hey, Ron and I talked.”

“Evidently, not enough,” said Rose. Parvati couldn’t help but nod in her direction. Lavender huffed. “This coming from a girl with no boyfriend.”

Rose stepped forward and their blue eyes met. “I’m single, not naïve.” Neither Lavender nor Parvati had the audacity to challenge that.

As they walked freely around the grounds, Rose’s wandering eye found Harry sitting on a large boulder by the lakeshore. Ron and Hermione sat in the grass beside him, Ron’s arm wrapped around his girlfriend’s shoulder. Hermione turned her head, and upon seeing the ginger girl, she waved for her to come over. Rose politely excused herself from Lavender and Parvati and dashed over to the trio. She came to a stop just short of the water’s edge and leaned up against Harry’s rock.

“So Lavender and Justin finally hooked up,” said Harry, looking down so that his glasses barely clung to the tip of his nose.

“Yeah, and about time too,” Rose continued to munch on her now skinless apple. “You owe me two sickles, Ron.”

Ron groaned. “Oh c’mon!”

“Ah-ah, you said that they wouldn’t be official ‘til October. I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so.”

“Lucky guess,” Ron rolled his eyes. Rose saw this and laughed, joined by Harry. “Perhaps Divination wasn’t totally useless after all,” she chuckled. Again, Ron rolled his eyes. He promised her that she would have her money by the end of the month.

“No offense to Lavender, but I’m grateful that we don’t travel in the same crowds,” said Hermione, shaking her head and smirking. “To put up with that all day long, you and Parvati must have the patience of a saint.”

“She’s excited, cut her some slack,” said Rose.

Ron laughed. “Well then, could you do us a favor and tell her to tone it down a bit?”

“Rose doesn’t have any more control over her than you do, Ron.”

“Thank you, Harry!” Rose shouted up the rock.

“I’m curious,” Hermione said as she shifted closer to Rose. Ron rolled his eyes in that oh-here-we-go-again way only he could pull off. Thankfully for him, his girlfriend missed this. “Just what did you have to say about Lavender and Justin? After all, you do claim to be her friend.”

“Stop that, Mione!” Rose shook her head. “I just said that I was happy for her, not like that means anything really. She and Parvati said I just didn’t get it because I’ve never had a real, serious boyfriend. Then again, Lavender talks like I’ve only just been introduced to men. I don’t know where she got that idea. She tried to kill me by the way, damn near choked to death.” She displayed the weapon of choice, which was still dripping juice down her fingers. Hermione and Ron giggled.

“Anyway, I don’t plan on becoming too involved,” Rose continued, in between her gnawing. “I _am_ single after all. I don’t want anybody raping my ear with unwanted love stories. At least you two are modest.” She noticed that the couple in the grass was still laughing under their breath. She also noticed that they were looking just beyond her. She turned as she followed their eye line. Up on his stone perch, Harry was playing some invisible violin. Rose snarled. “Oh ha-ha, very funny Harry.”

“Just know that you’re not the only one with relationship troubles, Rose.”

“I know, I know. Geez, it’s only been four weeks since you last saw Ginny. Keep your trousers on.”

“But Rose, that’s like –,”

“An eternity, I know,” said Rose, doing Harry a favor by finishing his thought. “But at least you have Ginny to miss and brag about. I have to listen to almost all my girl-friends gush over their dates and I have nothing to show for that. What do you have to say to that, Potter?”

“That you make a good argument,” Harry admitted.

Rose and Hermione smiled at each other, quite satisfied with themselves and their superior female logic. Ron merely shook his head; Harry really should try to challenge a woman sometime. Rose slid down the side of the boulder and sat down on the ground, setting her books down in the fresh grass.

“We’re in for some long days the way I see it, you two especially.” She motioned to Ron and Hermione. “As much as I like Lavender, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to show off Justin to spite you.”

Hermione let out an involuntary huff. “Don’t even get me started. I wouldn’t be surprised if she started waltzing around, proclaiming to the heavens that she’s found her soul-mate.” She looked over at Rose just in time to see an uncomfortable twitch in the corner of her mouth. “Oh my god, she is, isn’t she?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but I can see that happening.” Rose sounded a bit guilty, like it was a terrible betrayal to gossip about friends with another circle of friends. “Merlin help us all if it does because that has to be among the most ridiculous things I’ve heard in a long time. Really, you know a guy for a few weeks, you have one date, and suddenly you’re planning out your whole future. People like that ought to slow the hell down. The _Prophet’s_ personals are already full of marriage announcements.”

“Wow, seven days with Snape and already you’re starting to sound like him,” said Ron, pulling Hermione in to tuck her head under his chin.

“Is that so? I thought that was rather kind.” Rose eased herself back onto her feet, fingering what was left of her apple. She wrinkled her light brow with a crooked smirk. “Well if I ever do lapse into such madness, I give you my full permission to knock me upside the head with a textbook.”

“Fair enough,” Ron leaned back, propping himself up on his arm and taking Hermione back with him. “Mind if I borrow your Potions book?”

“No, use Transfiguration’s. It’s heavier,” Harry joked. “That ought to knock some sense into her.”

Rose looked out across the lake and squinted her eyes like she was trying to make out something in the distance. But then the blue orbs widened with focus. She took a step back, swung her arm, and tossed the apple core out high over the water. As if on cue, a great tentacle shot up out of the waves to catch it. It disappeared again with a splash.

“Nice shot!” said Ron.

“Thanks Ron, though probably more thanks to the giant squid.”

Harry stared out over the calm lake, his dark green eyes wide open. Every so often, he would glance down at Rose as she talked with Ron and Hermione. Then he raised his eyebrows, an expression that suggested that he had suddenly gotten a brilliant idea.

“Say Rose,” he said as he slid down the side of the rock and came to rest on his feet. “That’s quite an arm you’ve got there.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. It’s just good timing.”

“That’s a bit more than nothing if you ask me.” Harry looked out at the ripples left behind by the squid. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what do you want?”

“You know that I’m holding Quidditch tryouts this weekend, right?”

“Oh yeah, finally! Could you be any more behind on that?”

Harry shrugged with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I know we’re late. But anyway, have you ever considered trying out for the team?”

Rose wrinkled her brow, shooting a quick look at Hermione. She then turned back to Harry. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Rose, are you blind? That was a great throw you did. Imagine doing something like that while hanging onto a broom with a Quaffle in your hand.”

“You want me to try out for chaser?” asked Rose.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “You know that there are a lot of open positions this term, and from my view, we’re at a loss for good chasers. I need as many people as I can get to try out.”

Rose didn’t need to be told this in the slightest. Since the start of term, she had been watching Harry worry himself into near panic when faced with leading a team with no recognizable talent, and very few players to choose from. Ron had once joked that the Head Boy would have to start whoring himself to in order to get new people to try out. “I don’t know…” Rose shook her head.

“Why not?” asked Harry.

“Well,” Rose’s voice oozed with guilt again. “Forgive me, but it is a bit funny how certain people seem to get positions year after year.” Her eye twitched in Ron’s direction.

“What are you implying?” Harry wrinkled his eyebrows, staring into Rose’s eyes.

“No offense to you, Ginny, or anyone else, but if I were to try out, how do I know that everyone would be getting a fair chance?”

Harry’s face relaxed, not putting much effort in holding back the evident smirk. “Is that what those mates of yours thought we were doing?” he asked with a shake of his head.

“It wasn’t all of them, just Natasha. At least Jonny had good sportsmanship.” Rose could hear Ron and Hermione behind her, struggling to contain their laughter. She turned toward them and eased down onto the grass beside them. Harry too decided to sit down on the ground with his friends.

“Alright, so I might be a biased bastard,” he chuckled. “But at least I make an attempt not to be.”

“That’s a very fine line, Harry,” said Hermione. “I’d be careful with what you say.”

“Ah Hermione, so you’re on Rose’s side now,” Ron playfully taunted, letting his hand slip off her shoulder. The girls eyed the red-haired wizard in a way that only women could. “Confident that you’ll be keeper again, Ron?” asked Rose in a teasing mock. Ron growled under his breath, but his face melted back into mush as Hermione stroked his leg. She planted a generous peck on his lips, which Ron happily accepted.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I assure you, Rose, I’m not as biased as I seem. If I’m partial to anything, it’s skill on the pitch. Then again, if you had more interest in the team in the past, you would know that already.”

“I’m as interested as the next Gryffindor,” Rose sneered.

“I’m sure you are,” said Harry. “What I mean to say is that everyone - and I mean _everyone_ – will be getting a fair shot.”

Rose thought about it for a moment. Never before had she really considered going out for quidditch; it just wasn’t that high up on her totem pole of priorities. It also seemed to be one of those things that required a majority of your friends to be in Gryffindor as well. Jonny and Natasha would have made that a bit difficult, right along with a number of others. But Rose just couldn’t help but think from time to time. She often wondered what it felt like to be looked up to like that, to be the heroes of the house. What did it feel like to be the center of the school’s most vivacious attention? As mild-mannered as Rose was in comparison, these thoughts were quite tempting to say the least.

“I suppose I could, if you’re that desperate,” she smiled at Harry. “It couldn’t hurt. Besides, it’s not like I have much else to do with my other friends halfway across the globe.”

“It would certainly be more fun than being stuck in the dungeons for hours on end,” said Ron. Hermione nodded her agreement. Rose turned to them with bright eyes and a big smile. “Eleven days! I’m counting them down. Eleven days, and I’m free!”

Harry commented on how Snape couldn’t be so hard on Rose every night, but Rose was quick to remind him that given his past history with the Potions master, that particular comment was pretty empty. Ron sat forward and asked if anyone had any leftover snacks. Rose reached into her bag and produced a wrapped chocolate frog. She tossed it over to him. Hermione asked why Rose still carried those around; she couldn’t possibly care for Wizard Cards at their age. Rose was all too kind to explain. She took advantage of her love of chocolate to make a profit, selling the cards to First years for a small price. The look on Harry’s face suggested that he was considering getting in on that clever idea.

From behind, they could all hear loud, elated voices. The four of them looked over their shoulders and up the hill. Lavender and Justin were walking along the path back to the castle, hand in hand. Their joined arms swung in perfect sync with their steps. Neither did a thing to hide their proud smiles. They were happy to be together, and they wanted every living soul at Hogwarts to know about it.

“So,” said Harry as he turned his attention back to his companions. “Who wants to bet that they’ll be married by this time next year?”

**~HP~**

Alone in her dormitory next to an open window, Rose sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by books and parchment. At the moment, she was the epitome of multi-tasking. Her hands moved with remarkable speed as she wrote out a short essay on how one could predict her entire future using nothing more than a handful of dirt. At the same time, she was straining her neck to the side as she poured over a chapter on protective spells against curse-tablets. Her Potions book rested near the edge of the bed. Rose wanted to reread the chapter on medical brews, just in case Snape decided to use her again to satisfy his habit of verbal target practice. The gentle chorus of crickets was the only thing keeping her head on straight.

Oddly, Snape was the reason she was up in her quiet room. She had gone down to detention at seven thirty like she was supposed to, just as she had for the last seven nights. But after barely an hour and a half of squeezing the mucus from long dead flobberworms, she was told to wash up and get out. Though Rose was more than a little thankful for this slight reprieve, it was truthfully puzzling to her. She didn’t even see much of Snape; he was kept up in his office most of the time. And every time he did grace her with his presence, Rose got nothing but vicious, yet aimless insults. She was left to figure out how a Second year’s repeated trouble with the Hair-raising Potion was _her_ fault. And how did associating with Harry Potter factor into that?

But all in all, it was a good thing that Rose had the chance to retire early that night. Her mind wasn’t really there; it hadn’t been most of the day. She had done an excellent job of keeping this to herself as not one person thought anything was amiss. It had also been quite a task to keep it up for lack of opportunities to be by herself. Now that Hermione was off roaming the halls with Ron, ironically to get their own alone-time, this modest Rose was allowed to wilt into musing.

Her thoughts kept wandering back to her conversation with Lavender and Parvati, or perhaps just Lavender’s light claim. Rose really did consider her former roommates to be her friends; they were among the first girls she did call friends at Hogwarts. They were all there for the endless spew of ranting and gossip that would happen over the course of seven long years. And Rose was genuinely happy for them when good things happened, Justin being one. But as everyone knew, those two were not her first choices for “Friend of the Year.” They didn’t know her as well as others did, Natasha and Jonny aside. However, that reality didn’t really hit Rose herself until that afternoon. And all it took was the mention of how she had no boyfriend to brag about.

She suddenly found herself feeling like a Muggle woman she had heard her mother’s friend gossiping about. What did that fat broad call her, the “designated third wheel?”

But it wasn’t her single status that had Rose feeling lousy. If it was anything, it was indirectly caused by Lavender’s sheer lack of awareness. The ditzy dimbo not only practically accused Rose of some teenaged sin, but she really did seem to be under the impression that Rose had not had much experience with men altogether. If she was half the friend she thought she was, she would have known that this was not true. Rose had been on her fair share of dates since she was younger, her first being with a Muggle boy from her village when she was fourteen. Trysts with others followed. But none of it was anything that Rose could call serious. Alright, so maybe Lavender had a point. But that didn’t mean Rose was alright with basically being the single lady of the Gryffindor Seventh years.

Lavender was right about one thing; there is no way to describe love until you feel it for yourself. Regardless of what makes those feelings come about or where it takes you, it stays with you. But it’s not an emotion that should be tossed around by loose tongues. You may find yourself proudly proclaiming your undying love, your only witness being someone who had felt that same gut-twisting affection.

And felt that same affection, Rose had.

She couldn’t blame the other girls for not knowing. It was something that Rose never spoke about in company. More people knew about her father being in prison than about this. Yet for her, it took a person of incredible understanding to be worthy of knowing the depth of this secret. The trouble was that there weren’t many to choose from. And even if there were, they had to be _really good_ at keeping a secret under pain of death for Rose to trust them fully. Not even Jonny or Natasha knew, and both had once claimed that it was safe for her to tell them anything. Hermione was the only person she had yet revealed any of her feelings to.

Unfortunately for Rose, the boy she so cared for was among the masses of people who didn’t know. And even more unfortunately, he never would. Like too many in those recent days, he was long gone from Rose’s life. But whereas others simply moved to another land, merely an owl post away, there was no way Rose would ever hear from this young wizard again. The only thing that would make it possible would be if Rose surpassed all wizards before her and undid the foundations of life. She would have to reverse death itself to get him back.

Many things had caused Rose to return to Hogwarts with a heavy heart, and this was the worst for the young witch. She had gone to great lengths to not go thinking of him, diverting conversations and avoiding his old haunting spots. Not even with Hermione would she talk about him, no matter how many times the Head Girl said it would help. To Rose, the best way to get over that man was to do her best to forget about him. After all, it’s not like she had any reason to still hope. She was far too young to hold onto a lost love like that.

Rose shook her head with a deep sigh, bidding herself to dismiss her thoughts. She had better things to do than reminisce about that wonderful boy and her hopelessly stolen heart. She immersed herself into her work again, ignoring the need for sleep. She was pouring over her Potions book when the door slowly creaked open. Hermione had one heck of a goofy smile on her face as she glided across the floor. She flung herself over her bed and kicked up her legs. Rose hid her silent giggle behind her book.

“Looks like you had a good evening,” she said, unable to resist.

“I thought that you would still be in detention,” said Hermione, looking up at her canopy.

“Yeah, it seems that even Snape had better things to do tonight.”

They talked for a few minutes about the Snape peculiarity that resulted in Rose sitting up there at a reasonable hour. There wasn’t a doubt that Hermione was collecting as much information as she could, trying to draw some conclusion. Apparently, there was still too little as the conversation ended with both girls shrugging their shoulders.

Rose didn’t need to ask Hermione what she did that evening. Her face said it all. It might have been odd to see this pure glee in the eyes of such a private witch if Rose wasn’t one herself. But of course, this only served as proof of their close bond. Hermione did not have to blather on about how much she loved Ron because Rose already knew it. She knew that years ago, and she understood everything Hermione went through. She felt the beginnings of a knot forming in her chest.

Hermione motioned to her bedside clock and showed Rose that it was late. She was more than willing to remind Rose of what happened the last time she worked through the night. Rolling her eyes, Rose closed her book and dropped it to the floor beside her bed. Pity really; that chapter was actually an interesting read. In fact, there were some interesting points that she would want to investigate further. She smirked at the idea, the potioneer in her asserting its presence. She pushed the rest of her things off the bed and slipped under the covers.


	10. Know thy boundaries

Severus sank into the deep armchair in front of the staffroom’s fireplace, resting his heavy head against the tough, leather cushion. The warmth of the fire did nothing to help his rather weak state. In fact, Severus was beginning to think it was a really stupid idea to sit there. He tried to stop the slight trembling in his hands as he held his steaming teacup close to his face. A limp strand of greasy hair hung in front of his eye, but Severus couldn’t be bothered to shake it out of view. He could feel a headache coming on as he tried and failed to tune out the voices of fellow teachers behind him.

The weekend could not have been slower to come for Severus. But once Saturday dawned on a cloudy morning, it was more than a relief. He was still plagued by fatigue, being sick had become part of his morning routine, and now he found himself heading for the loo after every class. But at the very least, the weekend meant that there would be no students. His classes were becoming more difficult since the retched snots seemed to be doing everything in their power to provoke his suddenly violent moods. If there’s a bright side to everything, the only thing Severus could come up with was that he had his nasty reputation back.

He had intended to spend his entire Saturday in his quarters with only a good, _long_ book for company. But having failed to turn up for breakfast again, Severus had to resign to tea time in the staffroom. Though he wanted nothing more than to be rid of his meddling colleagues’ concerns, he knew that they would be doubled if no one saw him for a whole day. The last thing Severus needed was for Dumbledore to “drop in” with another little remedy of Pomona’s. Really, at least Minerva had enough common sense to know that he neither needed nor desired anyone’s help.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into Potter’s head to wait this long to put a team together.”

At the other end of the room, seated at a long table, Minerva was shaking her head as she incessantly stirred the tea before her. Pomona Sprout and Muggle Studies’ Cassandra Wicker were seated on either side of her chair, and across the table, little Flitwick was engrossed in the _Daily Prophet’s_ tricky crossword puzzle. The Deputy Headmistress pinched the bridge of her sharp nose. “For my sake, that boy had better turn up with the best Quidditch team since the turn of the century.” 

“Don’t we all want that, Minerva?” said Pomona. “I’m grateful that there was sufficient talent left in my own house.”

“Oh Pomona, I think we’ve all put enough pressure on our captains,” said Filius. “If you ask me, we ought to leave them alone from now on or the Quidditch Cup will end up back on Severus’s shelf.”

“Oh we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Minerva shouted to Severus’s turned back, bitterly sarcastic. Severus didn’t want give her the satisfaction of firing back. He didn’t want to be there anyway. Why would he want to aggravate himself by pretending to be even remotely interested in their selfish sportsmanship?

“Did Potter ever say what took him so long?” asked Cassandra, buttering a biscuit.

“He mentioned to me that he needed more time to recruit,” said Rolanda Hooch, who leaned on a wall near the window. She stood there only to give herself an excuse to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts currently in progress. “It’s beyond me why he would think such nonsense.”

“Oh, I know,” Minerva raised her eyebrows. “I had First years coming up to me just to beg me to change school rules so that they might try out. And yet I heard talk that Potter thought that no one would want to go out for the team. If I ever find out who gave him that idea, I’ll give them a piece of my mind.” Severus rolled his eyes.

The door let out a moaning creak as Hagrid ducked his head to enter the room. “Aye, it looks like it’ll be a ruddy good year for Gryffindor. Ol’ Harry’s puttin’ ‘em through the ringer.”

Severus growled deep in his throat. It was bad enough that no one seemed to get off the topic of Potter, but now that Boy-wonder’s biggest fan had arrived, it was all downhill from there. If Severus wasn’t feeling so faint, he would have taken great pleasure in charging out of there. The only thing that could make it worse would be if Lupin suddenly showed up with his opinion.

“Cor, there must be at least half of Gryffindor house out there.”

_‘Speak of the devil,’_ Severus thought. The retched werewolf had walked in, not too far behind Hagrid. Lupin almost immediately helped himself to a cup of tea and a biscuit before choosing to sit down in front of the fire. He was noticeably careful to keep his distance from the Potions master.

“Yes Remus, now let’s hope there are twelve decent players in that lovely little bunch,” said Minerva.

Severus balanced his teacup on his knee as his free hand dug into the arm of his chair. He watched Remus out of the corner of his tightly squinted eye as the DADA professor turned to face the others over the back of the sofa. “There’s more than enough potential from what I could see. I’m impressed with the number of people interested this year. I could have sworn I saw Beckett up in the air with Thomas, Finnigan, and Robins.”

“Aye, she was hangin’ upside down when I passed by,” said Hagrid. “I reckon she was dodgin’ a bludger er somethin’, but she looked like she was havin’ trouble haulin’ herself up again.”

“Well, she got back up somehow because she was juggling the Quaffle with Robins,” said Remus before taking a long swig of hot tea. “It’s a bit funny actually. She never struck me as much of an athlete.”

Minerva shook her head with a smirk. “Goodness, Beckett hasn’t shown any interest in playing since Wood turned her away after only two test rounds. I can’t imagine what has her out there today.”

“I’m just taking a guess here, but I think Harry or Ron might have had a hand in that.” Remus smiled. “Just a shot in the dark.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” said Cassandra. “She speaks very highly of them both, Potter in particular.”

“Who doesn’t?”

All eyes gravitated to Severus, who had suddenly interjected himself into the conversation with a snarl. He forced himself to turn around, staring toward the ladies at the table. “Do any of you have the slightest clue how ridiculous you sound? Cassandra, I can’t blame you because you don’t know. But the rest of you ought to know that Potter is _not_ the foundation of _that damn team._ ”

“I’d beg to differ, Severus,” Minerva objected. “Who was it who held onto the cup for seven years straight until that boy showed up?”

“Well, it must have occurred to just one of you that Potter is not some sort of god that must be worshiped for every last thing he does.”

“I know that as well as you do,” Remus chimed in. “But you must give him credit for something.”

“As to that, I say that I’ll expect the Cup to be back on my shelf by the first of May.” Severus turned back to the fireplace. He suddenly came to sense that someone else had sat down on the sofa. He glanced over to find that Minerva had abandoned the table in favor of sitting by him.

“While I have you here, Severus, I have been meaning to ask you. How have you been feeling lately?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Severus snapped, trying to keep his voice low. “I’ve been getting along just fine.”

“Poppycock!” Pomona’s voice echoed across the room. “Severus, you looked terrible weeks ago, and you still look terrible today.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Filius as he scribbled out what he thought was a three letter word for an unpleasantly disagreeable male. “Anyone in their right mind would see that.”

Severus would have bit out a rather creative insult if Rolanda hadn’t announced her departure, citing the Quidditch runs as her reason. Hagrid also took the opportunity to make an escape. He knew that this could turn very sour very quickly, and he would much rather be cheering on his favorite bunch of kids than get caught up in a row.

Pomona got up to stand behind the sofa. “Are you still having trouble keeping food down?” she asked Severus.

“It’s been manageable,” said the irritated Potions master. He vaguely wondered what gave them all the impression that butting into his private life was a privilege.

There was a tap and rustling as Filius set down his quill and folded up his newspaper. “Manageable? Severus, let’s be sensible. I don’t think I’ve met a single soul who could call worshipping the porcelain gods manageable.”

“If it doesn’t keep me from my work, then it’s no real concern.” Severus did not turn to address his overbearing colleagues. He noticed Minerva roll her eyes as she drained the last of her tea.

“I’m surprised that it doesn’t affect your work,” said Remus, leaning into the cushions. “Perhaps you should consider resting for a few days, get some vigor back.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Lupin,” Severus snarled.

Cassandra pushed her empty cup away and rose from the table. She cautiously walked over to where Severus sat and came around the side of his chair. “You know Severus,” she started, pumping up her confidence as she tossed her thick brown hair over her shoulder. “If you’re having problems with your stomach, perhaps you should try Muggle motion sickness bands. They go around your wrists and they are supposed to really help relieve nausea. My sister used them when she was pregnant; cleared that morning sickness right up!”

“Cassandra,” Severus stopped her before shifting his coal-black eyes to the brunette witch. “Have you forgotten that there are potions that do the exact same thing and are just as effective? Or are you simply attempting to continue the legacy of all the doomed Muggle enthusiasts before you?”

Cassandra was crestfallen as she took a step back and away. “I was only trying to help,” she said, her small voice becoming smaller.

“For your information, I don’t need anyone’s help, especially from timid little witches who make a living by trying to show how Muggles can upstage wizards with the smallest of things.”

“Well,” said Cassandra, suddenly snarling as she planted her hands on her waist. “Perhaps if you gave Muggle solutions a chance, then it wouldn’t be upstaging, would it?”

Severus’s face went white with rage, all power of thought forcibly flung out of the window. “Are you a witch or not?!” he growled.

“Are you with us or the Death Eaters?!”

That’s when Severus shot up out of his chair. The sickly weakness had suddenly given way to a burst of energy that was only brought on by rage. But before he could even think of reaching for his wand, or even clenching a fist, Remus flew across from his place on the couch and pushed Severus back down, putting most of his unnatural strength behind him. Severus could now also feel Pomona’s firm grip on his shoulders, securing him in his seat. Minerva had stood up in the commotion and Cassandra was now cowering behind her. The Muggle Studies teacher had her hand over her mouth like she was shocked by her own words. Her big brown eyes were wide with panic.

“You dare to say that to my face, you bitch!”

“Severus, I’m so sorry!” Cassandra pleaded. “I didn’t mean it!”

“But you say it anyway?!” Remus and Pomona had to struggle to keep Severus in the chair. The furious wizard repeatedly tried to knock Remus aside, rather underestimating the werewolf’s stamina. Remus grunted as he wrestled to restrain Severus’s thin arms. But Severus’s burning eyes were locked on the quivering woman behind Minerva. “How dare you, Wicker?! How dare you?! You do not know me, and you do not know what I’ve been through to be here now! If you think that you can come in here and say whatever you damn well please, then you better get the hell out of here before you end up in a whole new world of torment!”

“Severus, stop that this instant!” Minerva commanded. “Do us all a favor and calm down.”

“Please!” Remus gasped.

“Come along, Cassie,” Filius shuffled over and tugged on her sleeve. His voice betrayed his sense of urgency. “Let me walk you back to your office. I forgot to tell you about these delightful musical pieces I found for your lessons.” He ushered Cassandra out of the staffroom with a steady hand, ready to defend if Snape broke free.

Once they were safely out the door, Severus gave up the fight and somewhat relaxed into the chair. With no one to protect, Pomona and Remus felt it was safe enough to let go of Severus’s tense form, though not safe enough to give him space. Minerva quickly saw to that, swatting at Remus until he eventually ended up in the middle of the room. Pomona calmly excused herself from her colleagues. As she closed the door behind her, more than one of them thought they heard her mumble something about delivering a bottle of Baileys to Cassandra’s quarters.

Severus breathed hard through tightly clenched teeth, leaning in on himself and cradling his head in his hands. Minerva watched him with deep concern. She had heard loose talk among the students of the Potions professor’s volatile moods and his dramatic turns for the worse. But this was the first time she had seen just how easy it was to set him off. And even though such bouts of anger were nothing new when dealing with Severus Snape, this frightening frequency was unusual for him.

The elderly witch looked around at the spilled tea and broken cups around her feet. She noticed that Remus was still standing at the room’s center, as though waiting for some sort of command. Minerva looked at Severus again and understood that if she wanted Severus to relax, then the other wizard would have to go. “Remus, would you mind if we had a moment alone?” she asked.

Remus nodded, not offended by the Deputy headmistress’s request for privacy. Truthfully, he didn’t want Severus to have an aneurism anymore than Minerva did. But he didn’t need to be told that his presence was adding to the problem. “I’ll return in a few minutes, there was something I forgot in my office anyway.” He calmly left the room, grabbing an extra biscuit on his way out.

Minerva sat down on the couch and turned her full attention back to Severus, who now looked more pained than stressed. “Just take deep breaths, dear,” she said, her gentler, more motherly voice taking over. Slowly but surely, Severus did as he was told. He leaned his body back and sank into the cushion again. A pale hand was still pressed to his forehead.

“Severus, what happened?” asked Minerva, drawing his attention. “What was that all about?”

Severus shook his head with a wrinkled brow. “Minerva, you try keeping your head when the whole damned world seems bent on obliterating any scrap of privacy you could hope for.” His head fell back as the whole room seemed to lose grip on its axis. Severus let out a deep breath, hoping it would make the slow spinning stop.

“You’re not well again,” Minerva assumed, to which Severus responded with a gentle shake of his head. “What’s the matter? What are you feeling?”

“Lightheaded, just very lightheaded,” said Severus.

“Have you had anything to eat?”

“Only some toast at breakfast.”

Minerva looked surprisingly relieved to have heard that. “Well, at least we know that you actually ate something this morning.” She rose up again and walked back to the long table. The hem of her robes swept the floor with every quiet step. She took hold of a plate and piled on three decently sized biscuits. She then made her way back over to the fireplace and held the little plate out to Severus. “Eat those. That should hold you over for a while, at least.”

Severus eyed Minerva as she spelled away the mess and once again took her place on the sofa. She in turn watched him as he gingerly nibbled on one of the dry pastries. But then she sighed. “This can’t go on much longer, Severus,” she said. “You can’t go on with this denial.”

“Why is that?” asked Severus, sneering as though to tell her he didn’t need an explanation.

“Why?” Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Because there is no sense in it anymore. Even the students are beginning to whisper about your behavior. Severus, you are sick and your potions are just not helping you. I have known you for a very long time; I understand your need for privacy. But there’s only so long I can just stand and watch.”

“Minerva, I meant what I said before. My health problems have been an inconvenience, I cannot deny that. But as long as I can get up and teach my classes, then that’s all I ask for. I don’t care what I have to do to achieve that.”

“Then maybe you should consider getting some help,” said Minerva. “Potions might be a temporary solution, but it’s not enough. If it was just a virus, you would be well over it by now. And I’m sorry Severus, but I think that you are getting worse.”

She waited for Severus to finish eating the biscuits and then patted the spot beside her, bidding him to sit. To her surprise, Severus slowly moved from one seat to the next. But he stared at the floor instead of turning to face her. “You are sick so often that I’m afraid you will start to lose weight. You don’t need to be any thinner, you know.”

“I know that,” Severus rolled his eyes.

“Not to mention that your poor health is severely affecting your mood. Your temper alone is on a hair trigger.”

“I rather thought that was nothing out of the ordinary. The students especially should have accepted that long ago.”

“No Severus, your anger has gone to a whole other level.” Minerva pointed a finger at Severus’s face. “You create conflicts out of nothing, when you have no reason at all to go attacking people. What happened with Cassandra was unacceptable.”

“But you heard what she said!” Severus exclaimed.

“I did, and I will speak with her later. But don’t make this about her. That argument would not have happened if you hadn’t deliberately jumped down her throat when all she was trying to do was help.”

“Why must everyone insist on helping me?” asked Severus. “For years, I got by with barely a concern from anyone. Why must that change?”

“Maybe they are trying to show you some respect,” Minerva suggested. “But even so, why don’t you swallow your pride just this once?”

Severus was quiet for quite some time. He leaned forward to rest his chin in his hands. Minerva bent over to look into his dark, hollow eyes, and she felt a knot in her chest at the sight of such miserable emptiness. “We really are worried about you, Albus and I. We had expected for you to have some trouble settling into life at Hogwarts again, but no one could have foreseen this. Surely, you must be getting tired of feeling so rotten every single day.”

The exhausted man had to blink away the mist that was beginning to cloud his vision. He hated this so much. He hated how Minerva used compassion to lull him, hoping there was a confession to be drawn out. But what was she expecting to hear from him? Because it couldn’t have been nearly as awful as the grotesque secret he held. Even if Severus felt safe with Minerva and Albus, safe enough to reveal to them that he had been raped, he would still keep it inside. What could they possibly do that would even remotely have a chance of helping him.

But still, he was fed up with his body being so out of his control, and no amount of pride could bury that. Though the last thing he wanted to do was admit defeat, he nodded his head. “I suppose you will say that all I’ve been doing is waiting for these problems to go away on their own accord.”

“And I’m not the only one,” said Minerva. “Albus agrees with me; you should have seen a Mediwitch days ago. Please Severus, no matter what it may seem, we do care about you. We don’t just value you as a teacher, but as a friend, and Albus and I only want you to have the best.  Don’t make your life more difficult by being the stubborn bastard that you are.”

Severus’s eyes were glued to the floor as he thought, Minerva watching and waiting. “If it goes on much longer, I’ll see Poppy.”

“Is that a promise?” Minerva arched her eyebrow.

Severus sighed. “Yes, I promise. And you can pass that on to the headmaster.”

“Don’t think that I won’t, although I believe you are more than capable of doing it yourself.” Minerva would have gone on, but was interrupted by Remus returning with a newspaper tucked under his arm and a folded bit of parchment in his hand.

“Oh, are you still talking?” He raised his brow in surprise. “I can come back later.”

“No need, Remus. We’re quite through here.” Minerva’s voice seemed to perk up from the deeply serious tone that Severus had endured. “Actually, I was about to tell Severus that I agree with your idea. He should rest some for the rest of today, and tomorrow as well.”

Remus looked like Minerva had just been referred to him as a genius. He humbly shook his head and waved the old woman off, though not without a smug smile. Severus saw this and could already feel a sharp increase in his blood pressure. At the rate he was going, Lupin might end up as the lucky bastard to “unintentionally” pop him off.

“Yes, quite right,” said Remus. “It’s for the best after all. If you like, Severus, I can take Miss Beckett’s detentions from now on.”

“No need for that, Lupin,” Severus snapped as he slowly rose to his feet.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Oh, so I’m an invalid now, am I?” sneered Severus. “Luckily for me, Beckett seems to have noticed my poor health and has been respectful enough to behave herself and stay quiet afterward.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “So much for throwing her out of the castle with your bare hands.”

“See, that’s more the Rose Beckett I’ve come to know,” said Minerva. “Besides, as her Head of House, I wouldn’t want her to put any unneeded stress on you.”

Severus snorted. “Trust me, Minerva; she’s already done that and then some. But I must admit, these detentions have proven to be quite useful. You two want me to rest, then I will rest. Just be warned that Beckett will be worked harder than the house-elves during the holidays. If she is of any use to Saint Potter, I will take great delight in keeping her from him and his championship team.”

Minerva and Remus exchanged looks of house-influenced frustration as Severus turned to leave. Though he was able to walk, he was a bit unsteady, his arms raised to balance himself out. He would have made a quick getaway if Minerva had not stopped him to force one more biscuit on him.

**~HP~**

Rest, Severus did, and quite happily at that. Feeling that he had some sort of permission to sink back into his reclusive tendencies, the weary, woozy Potions master tucked himself away in his quarters for the remainder of the day. Evidently, the message had been passed on to other teachers as no one came looking for him. For once, he was grateful that Minerva had his back. At least she had the ability to divert Cassandra from marching down and demanding an apology. An eternity could pass before that happened.

He stayed laid out on his comfortable sofa long into the evening, a copy of _The Practical Potioneer_ in his lap. He even chose to take in his dinner in total privacy. In fact, no one in the castle would see his face again until Rose wandered down for detention, forcing Severus to pick himself up again.

Presently, the ginger-haired student was on her knees, on top of a counter at the back of the dungeon classroom while Snape watched on from his desk. He had suddenly decided that the jars on the classroom shelves needed a good dusting. Rose grunted and winced as she reached up to the high shelves, a filthy rag in hand. The braid that her hair had once been so neatly tied into was now a frazzled mess hanging from the back of her head. Her pale face and hands had gone pink with effort.

Severus had rather settled into evenings as of late. In the span of a week and a half, Rose had reverted back to what she usually was in class. She was quiet and mild-mannered. Talk had become more and more limited as each night passed, though Severus thought that it was merely because Rose thought it right to stay silent. But whatever her reason, Severus was glad that the girl was manageable, not to mention terrifically useful. His long list of classroom chores would have been a lot longer if she hadn’t been there to do it all for him. It often took several hours, even days, but she always got the job done. Severus vaguely wondered what he would do once the week was out.

He was leaning over his copy of the Potions journal, more interested in an intriguing article than in his dust-and-sweat-covered student. Had Beckett been any other student, he probably would be watching her and his ingredients like a hawk. Little wonder how those shelves got so dirty in the first place. She however had proven herself trustworthy enough to handle such valuable concoctions. Severus almost enjoyed ignoring the girl, not even looking up when he heard her yelp as she lost her delicate balance. He didn’t care as long as he didn’t hear glass break.

“Professor Snape?”

Severus looked up, distracted by Rose’s voice. The young woman had shifted her stance to face him while she repeatedly rubbed off a jar of daisy root. Her face and her voice were relaxed, which was a bit perplexing to the greasy wizard. “What is it, Beckett?” he asked.

“Have you finished grading the Blood-Replenishing Potions we made yesterday?”

“I have not. Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know if you’ve seen mine yet.” Rose tilted her head to the side as her lips twitched into an uneasy smile. Snape just couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “You just couldn’t wait until Monday’s class, could you?”

“I’m sorry sir, but the wait is killing me,” said Rose. “Yes, I want to know how I did.”

The Potions master flipped the page of his magazine, letting his black eyes fall back down. “You never fail to astound me with your audacity,” he said. “And to think that some people have questioned your house placement. Hmm, perhaps sometimes it becomes more obvious with age.”

Rose rolled her eyes, sighing in the back of her throat. “Pardon me, but I don’t think my request is that outlandish. Please Professor, how did I do?”

Snape again looked up at Rose. It was truly quite odd to look at her, not a spark of hostility in her face and a curious glimmer in her eye. Sure, she and Severus had learned to live with each other each evening, but he never considered these detentions to be this casual. Not to mention that the blasted girl was taking time out of her own punishment to actually be a student. And yet there was something about her that Severus felt deserved to be entertained. Growing concerned for his own mental state, Severus searched his mind for the appropriate words.

“Let me ask you this, Beckett. How do you think you did?”

Rose raised her light eyebrows, surprised by Snape’s question. “Well…I had hoped that I did well. I was up late the night before rereading that chapter in the book –,”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

Rose took a few seconds to calmly breathe away that sudden tension. “As I was saying, I studied until I was sure I had it right. But you know you can never be too sure.”

“Unless you are your know-it-all Head Girl,” Snape sneered.

“Do you seriously think that I could compare myself to her?” Rose set the jar in her hand back on the shelf and shifted her legs so that she could sit properly. “Make no mistake; I know what I’m doing. But I can’t help but worry that I’ve made a mistake of some kind.”

“Miss Beckett, I had no idea that you were a paranoid nutter,” said Snape. “Then you will be relieved to know that your concerns are unwarranted.”

The glimmer returned to Rose’s face. “My potion was alright then?” she asked.

“I took a look at it, and it was flawless. Are you happy now?” Snape gave her a brief moment to nod her thanks. “Good, now get back to work. I want all of those cleaned off before you leave. Oh, and if you mention your potion to even one person, consider it an utter failure.”

“Is that a threat?” said Rose as she cocked an eyebrow. She lifted herself back onto the tabletop and then stood up to reach the topmost shelf. “You wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”

“I would and I have.” There wasn’t much need for elaboration on Snape’s part; he knew that she knew what he meant. To his surprise, Rose laughed, muffling her unusually high giggle behind pressed lips. “Please, I have nothing to merit that, and I haven’t done anything worthy of senseless spite.”

Snape successfully suppressed a deep growl. “Still believe Potter’s every word, I see.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Rose paused to spit on a particularly stubborn jar of newt’s eyes. “But you know, it probably helps that one too many people have seen the senseless spite, unless you were about to call my friends ignorant.”

Sassy, sassy, sassy, Snape thought to himself. He however had to be frank with himself. He was tired of fighting with her, even if it was for his own amusement. He was also a tad bit to weary to even care for a fight with anyone. The Potions master made the choice to silently surrender and left the young witch to her work, ignoring the sound of the occasional hawk of saliva.

Snape was enthralled in a scholarly account on the improvements being made to Anti-Splattergroit potions when a hard thud signaled Rose’s dismount off the counter. She took a moment to carefully straighten her legs and then took a step toward the desk. “Those shelves are done.”

“So I see,” said Snape. He pointed to two more very high shelves at the side of the room and demanded that those jars be dusted too. Rose let out a huff as she looked at the clock. It was approaching nine thirty and that day had been quite exhausting to say the least. But still she took up the rag again and retrieved a step ladder from the back.

These jars were mostly empty and long disused, and therefore easy to clean off. Rose wiped away the grime and cobwebs with swift speed, almost waiting for Snape to tell her to slow down. Of course, this made her psych herself out like she was being watched. On one of her compulsive head turns, she managed to catch a glimpse at what her greasy professor was reading.

“Is that the new _Practical Potioneer_?”

“Yes, Miss Beckett, it is,” said the Potions master, flipping the page with a snap.

Rose cleared her throat and tried to avoid his dark glare. To Snape, she looked like she was trying to rid herself of some unspoken tension as she looked back to him. “I don’t mean to bug you, sir, but did you happen to see that Swedish wizard’s theories on the possibility of a Memory Restorative Draught?”

“I did, but why, pray tell, are you bringing it up now?”

Rose shifted bright eyes. “I just thought that I’d ask you what you thought of it.”

“What brought on this?”

“Well, Hermione and I were having a chat about the article earlier, and we’re a bit at odds. She thinks it’s entirely possible, but I’m not so sure. I’d like a professional’s opinion.”

Now this was bizarre. This was a complete turnaround from the hormonal bitch that had trapped them there. At first, Severus was unsure of how to react. On one hand, she was terribly annoying for such a late hour. But on the other, she was being respectful of his experience. Alright, so maybe she wasn’t being as ridiculous as he was trying to convince himself. Perhaps this was her way of trying to be some kind of civilized witch.

“I agree with Granger; such a brew is quite possible. However, I must also agree with the article. If this potion is ever eventually created, it can only be achieved by a wizard who has incredible skill in memory magic.”

“You see, that’s what I thought. From what I’ve read, it doesn’t seem that the average wizard off the street could make it. I don’t even think that most healers could make it. I think Hermione realized that after thinking about it for a while.” Rose paused when she looked over her shoulder at Snape’s cocked eyebrow. “What?”

“You never struck me as one to prefer scholarly research over that rubbish you call women’s magazines,” said Snape, running his long fingers through greasy curtains.

“Hey, what I do with my time is no one’s business but my own.” Rose set a clean jar back on the shelf. “And besides, I read _Practical Potioneer_ to hear what other people have to say about the art. There’s only so far conversation can go among students. It’s interesting to look at what the experts can do, you know, outside the books.”

Snape’s hollow eyes thinned out. “What you mean to say is that you read about these advanced potions and you want to try them for yourself.”

“Ha, I’m good, but I’m not daft,” said Rose, hanging onto the shelf to keep her balance. “I couldn’t even trust myself with potions like those.”

“Quite right, it would take you years to reach that level of experience. May I remind you that you will not always have Granger to lean on. Strange really, wasn’t it a little over a week ago that you shoved your good marks in my face?” Snape stared at Rose as she flushed a light pink with an uneasy smile. He shook his head. “Trust me, Beckett. Self-denial is not only very annoying, but it is also a dreadful waste of breath.”

“Sorry,” said Rose, not really sure why she had to apologize, though that may have been due to the perplexity of that bit of advice. Was that supposed to be advice? Given her house, Rose had no idea how to respond except to give Snape the quiet that he wanted. She had shown enough bravery in attempting conversation with the visibly worn out wizard. Wisely, she allowed time to crawl in silence, decreasing the awkward tension she realized she had created.

Having read it cover to cover, Severus tossed his magazine aside in favor of watching Rose stand on her tip-toes to reach the far end of the shelf. He was satisfied with her speed, though she nearly gave him a heart attack every time her fingers slipped. But it looked like his day would soon come to an end, and he could get a head start on his Sunday off. He was also beginning to feel the familiar discomfort that was the call of nature…again. In his book, the faster Rose worked, the better.

 He had briefly looked away when he heard Rose yelp as she lost her footing. He looked back to see her hanging onto the shelf by the sheer strength of her fingers, tips edging toward a large jar. He suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline when he saw that she was trying to grab hold of a jar of aconite. “Beckett, before you destroy my valuable inventory, perhaps you should consider moving the ladder.”

The Gryffindor squinted to read the faint label. “Oh damn, sorry!” The Potions master watched as Rose hopped to the floor and dragged the step ladder over a bit, the wood scraping loudly across stone. Rose was up again in three quick steps.

Snape was a little wide-eyed; aconite should not be out in the classroom where anyone could get a hold of it. If he knew of the bastard that left it up there, whoever they might have been, they would not have time to know what hit them. And in addition, though the toxic plant was necessary to the older students, aconite was quite expensive, and that jar was enough to match a month’s salary.

“I’ll take that,” he said as he got to his feet. He slowly glided over and took the jar from Rose, who had unquestioningly handed it down to him. He then retreated into his office to store it away. Behind the privacy of that door, he took the opportunity to visit the loo for the third time that night. Hopefully, Beckett wouldn’t question his repeated absence. But then again, she didn’t seem to be in a terribly intrusive mood. Flushing the toilet, Severus stepped out into his office. He smoothed out his robes before reentering the classroom. Rose had her back turned, washing off her rag in the sink. He calmly made his way back over to his desk chair.

“So Professor, have you been feeling any better lately?”

_‘Shit, piss, and corruption!’_ Though irritated, Severus knew that he had to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t allow himself to throw all of his frustrations with his body onto this relatively innocent student. “Yes, somewhat,” he sighed as he sat down.

“Did you get over that bug you had?”

“Mostly,” Snape lied with a weak sneer. “Thank you for your pity. Professor McGonagall would be so proud.”

Rose shook off the mock. “I’m serious sir; I do hope you’re okay. It’s no fun to be that ill, I know.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Snape. “But I’ll tell you what I have told my equally nosy colleagues. I’m alright as long as I can function.”

“You shouldn’t be angry at them for caring for your wellbeing.”

“I don’t need you to act as my conscience. I have heard enough as it is.”

Rose dropped the dust-stained rag into the sink basin and lightly walked over to the desks. “I can’t really help myself sometimes.” She lifted herself up onto a front desk. “I suppose it’s the Hufflepuff in me trying to get out.” Rose smirked at that, as did Snape.

“Animosity towards Hufflepuff, I see.”

“Oh hardly; up until recently, I was best friends with one. But in any case, Professor, you must know that I might be right about something.”

“What do you not understand?” Snape snarled. “I do not need to be harried by you or anyone else.”

“I’m not trying to harass you,” defended Rose. “I’m just acting on observation. You know we’re not blind, right? All the students have been whispering about you for days.”

“I’m surprised that you assume I wasn’t aware of that,” said Snape. “I’m sure that you have been providing them with a firsthand account.”

“I’ll be honest, yes, but not everybody. You could call me a meddling bitch if you like, but it’s a bit difficult to not be suspicious. Not with the way you’ve been biting people’s heads off.”

Severus stared into the girl’s face, and the arch in her thin eyebrow seemed to give away some prejudice she was obviously trying to keep locked up. His deep eyes thinned. “You know about what happened to Professor Wicker, don’t you?”

Rose seemed to lose her nerve as her lips contorted and she shifted her behind further up the desk, keeping her a safe distance from him. “Well…I…not directly. I came in from the Quidditch pitch and I passed Professor Sprout talking to Professor Sinistra. I guess I kind of eavesdropped.” Her eyes darted away, like that would deflect any hex that came her way. Snape just shook his head.

“If you knew the whole story, you wouldn’t be on that retched woman’s side.”

“I don’t believe I said I was on her side.” Rose shook her head.

“You have had tea with her, you like her too much. In a contest between her and I, I believe anyone would say you would go with her.” Snape could have just snarled at the nervous Gryffindor. Rose sighed as she looked to the ceiling. “That doesn’t mean I’m loyal to her only. Merlin, it’s no wonder you butt heads with people. You twist words around.”

“Miss Beckett, you are lecturing me again,” the Potions master scolded “I could go on about how my private matters are none of the teachers’ business, but it is most definitely none of yours. What gave you the impression that it was is beyond me.”

Rose propped her arms on the desk as she leaned back. Her gaze turned inward, silently contemplating if she had any right to continue. Yet it was surprising to her that she wasn’t in trouble for supposedly overstepping a boundary or two. “I’m sorry Professor. You’re right, I’m out of line. But it’s only because I have the upmost respect for you as a wizard, and as my professor. Don’t get me wrong; you are a stubborn git, and nothing that anyone can say is going to change that anytime soon. However, I wouldn’t wish a long illness on my worst enemy. I think that your so-called meddling colleagues are pushing you to get help because they feel you don’t deserve that.” Rose took a brief moment to simply look at her incredulous professor. She felt those black holes boring into her whole being, but Snape made no move to stop her from talking. She took in a deep, solid breath of air. “And I feel the same way.”

Snape’s brow contorted in spite of himself. “Forgive me, but are you not the same Gryffindor brat who so daintily told me to go fuck myself? I cannot possibly believe that you would think of me so highly as to find my health grievously unfortunate.”

“In light of recent events, I find that a little difficult,” said Rose. “Professor, even you must admit that what you have done through the years deserves to be revered.”

“Miss Beckett, you should know that I did none of it for glory, unlike some.”

Rose shook her head with a peculiar tweak in her brow. “I know that, but it’s still true. And war hero or not, you still know what you’re doing with your brews. For me, frankly that’s enough.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” asked Snape, quiet enough to be mistaken for a whisper.

“Not when I know I can do someone good.” Rose slid off of the desk, her hands moving to smooth out her skirt. She stepped toward the head desk and leaned against the dark wood. “Professor Snape, I won’t be the least bit offended if you ignore everything I say. I just hope that just this once, you think about yourself. You are aware that you don’t have to be a martyr anymore, right?”

“You believe that I would take advice from a student who is middling enough to require all night studying?” It was a weak attempt to pester, but an attempt all the same. Severus vaguely wondered why he even bothered at all. He noticed Rose fighting against the smirk tugging at her thin lips. “Don’t try me,” she warned. “I have my priorities like anyone else.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure you would put Quidditch before your schoolwork anytime. How did that turn out, by the way?”

Rose glanced from side to side, a bit cautious. “I’m on reserve…chaser.”

“Hmm, couldn’t even secure an official spot.” Snape ignored the utterly slighted look in Rose’s wide eyes and gapping mouth.

He looked to the clock; it was twenty minutes to eleven. Where had the time gone? He told Rose to grab her discarded robe and return to Gryffindor Tower. Feeling the weight of the day, Snape followed her out of the door and locked it with a charm. He turned and bid Rose goodnight, reminding her of the next night’s time. She responded with a simple nod, and started down the hall. Severus stood by the door until the sound of her footsteps faded into the dense silence.

He listened to the heels of his boots clicking on the stone as he slowly walked back to his quarters. The wards opened under his hand and once inside, he carefully closed the door behind him. Summoning a glass of water, Severus collapsed onto the sofa and kicked off his boots. In that moment, that old sofa was comfortable enough for him to consider not even going to bed. He could have slept right there, he didn’t care. The only thing that was stopping him was the realization that such peculiar angles would worsen the dull aches in his neck, back, and legs.

Severus lay there in silence, watching the clock tick away. He could still hear the concerned voices of Minerva, Lupin, and Beckett. Beckett’s in particular stuck rather stubbornly. In those uncomfortable moments, the tone of her voice was almost familiar, though he couldn’t quite figure out how. But all the same, her words were repetitive, but they stayed, mingling with the affection of Minerva McGonagall and the wisdom of Albus Dumbledore.

He had to wonder to himself if it was still worth it to ignore them. It was obvious that willing away his health troubles was not working, and likely never would. Yet he couldn’t bear the thought of being poked and prodded by Poppy Pomfrey. It was her hands who touched him after he had been raped, and even if she did not know that, Severus still felt so violated, and he never wanted to put himself through that again. It was simply all a matter of waking up one morning feeling like he was twenty again. And he hoped to the highest heavens that that day would come sooner than later. Though his mind was cluttered with unwanted thoughts, the prospect of more long days ahead, Severus went to bed that night celebrating his one good triumph that term. Rose Beckett had owned up to ultimate defeat with a simple admission of respect.

Noble…very noble indeed. Perhaps he just caught a glimpse of the girl that Cassandra described as a total sweetheart.


	11. Here on this night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the song of the same name from the little-known musical "The Pirate Queen." It's a habit of mine to listen to show-tunes while writing, and though I try to resist, that habit results in the creation of chapters such as this one. But I'm rambling, and I'll just let you get to reading.

Harry and Ron chose to spend their calm Thursday afternoon unwinding at Hagrid’s. Their housemates were all in class or elsewhere, freeing up time for themselves. They hadn’t had much chance to chat with the groundskeeper since the so-called “War of the Roses,” and with the workload from being a Seventh year finally beginning to build up, it was a comfort to know that there was at least one teacher who wouldn’t put too much pressure on them. The cloud of the next day’s double Potions looming over their heads, they stretched casual tea into a longer stay which included, on Hagrid’s bidding, a quick visit with the hippogriff that was once Buckbeak.

By the time three thirty rolled around, the Head Boy and his best mate found themselves outside the Fat Lady’s portrait. Harry had called a sudden meeting of the newly formed Gryffindor Quidditch team, and he hoped that the message had spread to everyone by now. With the first game of the season not far off, they had a lot to discuss and a lot of catching up to do with practice. To put it one way, this impromptu assembly had to happen in order to stop Harry’s blood pressure from rising.

As they crawled through the entrance hole, they saw that the couch was occupied by Nicolas Bowman, the new reserve Seeker. The Third year had rather impressed Harry on the pitch and possibly had enough skill to take over the position in the near future. By a far window, Rose had claimed a small table for herself. Her cauldron was set up over a low flame, a rosy colored steam floating up to the high ceiling. Her copy of _Witch Weekly_ was open beside it to a back page. In front of her, her potions book was open. Other than that, the common room was mostly deserted, save for the occasional passing student.

“Glad to see you two got the message,” said Harry with a shrug.

“Hold your horses, Harry.” Rose’s voice floated up with the brewing steam. “Demelza’s upstairs. She’ll be down in a minute.”

 Harry let out a sigh of slight relief. Demelza Robins was good at spreading word around the team. He threw down his school bag and walked over to stare over Rose’s shoulder. “Bloody hell Rose, are you rereading that chapter again?”

“Nope, the next one,” said Rose without looking up. “Double Potions tomorrow, just getting ahead.”

“Geez, give it a rest, will you?” Ron fell back into a chair, snickering to himself. “You’re as bad as Hermione is these days.”

“I heard that!” Ron jumped as Hermione came down the stairs and approached him with her Arithmancy and Ancient Runes books in hand. The ginger-haired wizard blushed and showed his apologies with a kiss to the back of her hand. Behind them, Rose shook her head with a smirk.

“Look guys, I’m trying to prove to Snape once and for all that I know what I’m doing with Potions, because frankly, I’m tired of him riding me. Every day, some sort of comment, and I’m fed up with it! I’m even better than that, I’ll bet. I could be as good as Hermione on a great day.”

“I suppose Snape leaving you alone is fair motivation,” said Harry.

“You mean reputation isn’t enough?” Dean and Seamus, new Chaser and Beater respectively, had just entered the room. They claimed another table at the other end of the room, both ignoring Rose’s playful snarl.

“Shut up, Dean. And besides, you heard the man. He’s been hinting for days that there will be a test soon. I personally am not taking any chances that he decides to give it tomorrow.” Evidently, not many of her year-mates had really considered such an idea, if the contorted brows and muffled groans were anything to judge by.

Steadily, other members of the team began to wander in and settle down about the room. Rose closed her book and moved closer to her cauldron. But instead of turning off the small burner, she made more than a few people flinch by dunking her hands into the hot brew. “Oi, are you out of your mind?!” exclaimed Ron. Rose looked like she was thinking the same question, as did many of the other girls about the room. “It’s what you are supposed to do,” she explained. “Just look at the magazine.”

Letting curiosity get the better of him, Harry meandered over to read the recipe for _Blossom’s Skin Rejuvenating Serum,_ which took up half of the page. He looked up at the witch, her hands still submerged in deep lilac liquid. “Really Rose?”

“What? With the work Snape’s been making me do, my hands have gone to hell.”

Harry shook his head. “And who said you only get the best brews from grimy old books?”

“I dunno, but whoever Blossom is, she’s a bleeding genius.” 

Hermione had to tear herself away from her friends shortly after Robins finally came down from the girls’ dormitories and settled on the sofa next to Bowman. The Head Girl was complaining of an Ancient Runes essay that she had to finish before supper, even if everyone knew she had at least another two days. She could have dragged Ron to the door with her if Harry had not had hold of his shoulder. The Boy-who-lived was starting to get a bit twitchy as the clock hand ticked closer to four, and yet they were still missing a Beater, the Beater’s reserve, and the last Chaser.

“Harry, you look like you’re ripe to crawl out of your skin,” said Demelza.

“Just a little bit, Demelza. Just a little bit.” Harry rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“What did you call this meeting for anyway?” asked Dean.

“Just wanted to go over a few things with you guys. You know, since we’re a bit behind the other teams.”

Seamus leaned forward in his seat. “They haven’t got you worried, have they?”

“I don’t know about worried, but definitely concerned,” said Harry as he leaned up against the wall beside the fireplace. “Slytherin in particular has been troubling, from what I’ve found out. They’re cooking something up, I can feel it.”

“No kidding,” said Ron. “Looks to me that they’ve gone back to their _intimidate-the-hell-out-of-the-enemy_ strategy. I mean, did you see their new Beater, that O’Rourke bloke?”

“The one that claims to be a Fourth year? He’s huge!”

“Thanks Rose for such brilliant commentary.”

“But look on the bright side, mate,” Ron turned his head to Harry. “Malfoy’s still Seeker, and he’s got the enthusiasm of a limp noodle.”

Rose let out a shrill burst of laughter. “I would beg to differ,” she said. Rose had not forgotten about her encounter with the Slytherin outside Snape’s classroom. That also was not the last time she clashed with Malfoy in some way. Rose got into more verbal squabbles with Pansy Parkinson than any other girl she knew. And as anyone who was anyone knew, where there was Parkinson, eventually there was Malfoy. Rose finally lifted her hands out of the now cooling cauldron. Large gobs of the gooey potion dripped from her finger tips, leaving their slimy trails. “Malfoy’s just playing up that depressed, battle-worn victim act to throw people off. He’ll fly up into the air during that match and _boom!_ He’s a whole new man!”

“Did Snape let that slip to you?” Ron smirked. Rose laughed with him. “Like Snape would rat out his pride and joy. Besides, he’d never let anything slip, and to me of all people.” Rose had turned her attention to her messy hands, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the others. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“Yeah, he’s too busy trying to come up with clever ideas to get under your skin still,” said Dean. “Am I right?”

“Actually, there were a few nights when I wanted him to be snarky with me. It would have been more comfortable than him just sitting there and staring at me all night.”

“Staring at you?” Demelza repeated, she and Bowman leaning closer toward the red-haired witch.

Rose began to gently peel off the layer of goo that had solidified on her skin. “I swear, that’s what he does,” she said. She sat down in her chair and leaned her elbow on the tabletop. She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips in a rather feminine take on the school’s Potions master. “He just sits there, the whole time. Watches me like a damn hawk. Occasionally, he lets his eyes wander.” Rose demonstrated Snape’s lazy habit of gazing about the room, the ceiling in particular, getting a few giggles from her little audience. “Every so often, I’ll get something like _“Beckett, could you scrub those desks any slower?”_ or _“Beckett, you’re a disgrace to Potioneers everywhere the way you treat those ingredients.”_ Oh this one was lovely! _“It’s peers like you that turn the First years into hopeless dunderheads every time I turn my back.”_ The story of my term so far.”

“He goes from wanting to strangle you to just trying to creep you out?” Dean was shaking his head. “Oh man, Snape’s going soft.”

“How can you be sure?” said Parvati as she and Lavender passed through the common room, headed for the library. “It seems to me like he’s ill or something. You know, like what they have been talking about in the halls?”

“Oh c’mon,” said Ron, his words stretched with laughter. “That’s the younger kids trying to make an excuse for Snape chewing their heads off and spitting them back at us. He does it anyway, just more ferociously. But who said that something had to be wrong with him for that to happen?”

“Actually, it does sort of make sense,” said Harry. “Hermione has mentioned to me more than a few times that he’s looked off color lately. And I hate to say it, but she may have a point.”

Rose placed the lid on her cauldron before disposing of the scraps of dried potion that littered the table. “He’s just in a rut. You can’t blame him for that. Sooner or later, he’ll have to go back to the way he was.”

“Alright, now you’re starting to scare me,” said Ron. But Rose turned to him with a smug tweak in her smile. “I’m sure Hermione would back me up on that.” Needless to say, the surrounding Gryffindors did not let that go quietly. Ron blushed, but he would not be bothered with trying to will himself invisible the way Hermione did. And luckily for him, the last few team members wandered in a few minutes later and all but collapsed onto the floor. Harry stood up straighter and was about to begin speaking when the portrait creaked open yet again. Neville walked in with a stumble in his step, dirt on his hands, and a goofy smile across his face.

“Hey lover boy!” crooned Dean. Some hid their giggles behind their hands while others decided to look away all together. Neville’s face flushed a very deep fuchsia as he rung his soiled fingers. Was it that easy to tell when he had been with Luna back behind the greenhouses?

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he shyly said. “But I heard that the Quidditch team was up here. I was wondering if I could talk to Rose for a second.”

“What’s up, Neville?” Rose shouted from her little island.

“Lavender told me that you were making some skin-healing potion you found in _Witch Weekly._ ”

Rose pointed her thumb to the cauldron at the center of the table. “It’s right here. It’s still warm if you want some for your hands.”

“Actually,” Neville shocked them all by blushing an even deeper shade. “I just wanted to ask you if – and if it’s not, that’s alright – if it’s safe to use that stuff for chapped lips.”

Rose had seen a lot of things and heard a lot of statements that had passed through that room. But that one was certainly one she wouldn’t have seen coming, and her poor divination skills had nothing to do with it. She had to fight to keep a straight face, using Harry as a distraction. He however had already lost his battle with the smirk. He was a terrific friend, but sometimes he was simply and utterly useless. Rose looked back to Neville, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Lavender. That stuff is very hot, and it tastes like molten rubber mixed with sun-block. I wouldn’t recommend it. I say go find Professor Wicker, she’s got lip-balm.” Poor Longbottom found himself in a rather tame walk of shame as he passed the smiles and playful giggles.

**~HP~**

The truth be told, Rose would not have resented her nearly three long weeks of detention if she knew that she would not be so bothered by them in the end. With only one night left to go, the young witch couldn’t help herself but to be puzzled, whether by her attitude towards Snape or by Snape’s reaction to her. The last week had actually turned out to be something that could pass as pleasant to an unsuspecting eye. Rose had been brave enough to continue asking the Potions master about certain points that had been nagging at her in class or after she read about them. To her surprise, Snape would give her bits of information that suddenly made her questions make sense. Once or twice, he further elaborated on that day’s lesson while she listened, silently taking it in. It didn’t feel like her detention had become remedial tutoring. If anything, Snape was merely reinforcing her interest in the art of brewing. Her, a stubborn Gryffindor! Then again, these conversations were far better than Snape using her slightly superior attraction to Muggle Studies to accuse her of being an enthusiast.

Okay, so she might have been a bit of an enthusiast. But that was always the chance when you are raised by the average English Muggle, knowing nothing better than the life they gave you.

Rose was heading back up to Gryffindor Tower, late as she always was. She was a bit disappointed that she had finished swabbing the desks so quickly, as she and Snape had been in the middle of a fair discussion about the differences between the simple Cheering Charm, and the rather complex Antidepressant Draught. A little longer and she would have been able to compare them to Muggle medications, much to Snape’s chagrin no doubt. That however was another debate for another day with another wizard.

The moonlight crept in through the massive windows and illuminated the dark halls. The quiet of the night brought a curious comfort to Rose she sauntered on her way. Every time she passed a window and caught a glimpse of that full orb imbedded in deep blue, she imagined that somewhere, the cry of a great wolf carried on the wind. The stillness that once was so horridly consuming was now quite peaceful. Rose felt odd to be walking alone. A night like that deserved to be enjoyed with someone, anyone. All she had to look forward to was shut doors and a sleeping roommate.

“Is that spearmint I taste?”

Rose stopped in her tracks, catching the voice bouncing off the walls. Here she thought she was the only one out way past curfew. She had only reached the first floor, and everything continued to give her the impression that she remained alone. Whoever spoke was nowhere around, the echo revealing the distance. She stood still and waited; with a statement like that, Rose could not just walk away without satisfying the urge to spy a little.

“Only for you,” a second voice quietly resounded.

_‘Wait a minute, I know those voices.’_ Rose looked around and saw the arch to a small balcony. That could give her a good vantage point. She crept over and pressed herself to the wall. Then she looked down on the walled-in cloister below.

Two long shadows stretched the length of the courtyard to the place where Ron sat in the soft grass. Beside him, Hermione had her legs tucked under her body as she leaned close to him, playing with their fingers. Softly, she nuzzled into the young wizard’s neck. Ron caressed her cheek with a sigh and brought their lips together. Rose watched the kiss from above, her sweet smile unseen. The pair came apart after a long moment. Ron tugged his girlfriend closer and let her lean against his broad shoulder.

“Have you ever seen a more perfect night, Mione?” he asked.

“I do believe I have,” said Hermione. “They just weren’t perfect until now.” Another kiss.

“You haven’t got a clue. I remember nights this beautiful during the summers back at home. The stars were out, the noise was gone, it couldn’t get any better. But all I could think about was you, so far away.” And another kiss. Rose’s smile suddenly started to fade away.

Hermione giggled under her breath. “You are too much, and yet I love you all the same.”

“I sure hope you do,” said Ron. “What good is being in love with a know-it-all if you get nothing in return?” Rose could see Hermione’s attempts to hold back the swat. The bushy-haired brunette was rewarded with yet another affectionate peck. Rose pushed herself further into the wall and gripped the ancient stone, quite unsettled by these private displays.

“We shouldn’t be out here, you know,” said Hermione, nearly a whisper. “It’s nearly midnight, and here, anyone could see us.”

A comment like that only served to make Rose even more uncomfortable. Now she was regretting this curious impulse. She wondered how this could possibly be worse than listening to Lavender’s blathering, or catching Neville and Luna off guard. And yet it was. Understanding and supportive as she was, she felt like a bad friend to be spying on their relationship and feeling the cold touch of envy.

“Oh, who fucking cares if someone sees us? It’s not like we’re naked here in the grass.” Ron raised his fair eyebrows in emphasis.

“I know, but we’re still out way too late, and –,”

“Mione, if you were that worried about getting in trouble, then we’d simply be hiding somewhere else. Am I right?”

Hermione blushed in spite of herself. “I suppose. But Rose should be getting back soon, if she’s not already there.”

“Let her think what she wants,” said Ron. “It doesn’t really matter to us.”

“She’s still my friend.”

“And mine as well. I’ll give her something, she’s a nice girl, but she’s not shy. Let’s just assume that whatever pops into her head will only be heard by us and Harry.”

_‘You two have no idea how adorable you really are. Or just how lucky you are to have each other. If only more people could find love like that.’_ They were words that Rose had said to herself over and over again, and kissed up to God with a heavy mind. Deep down, she hoped that the couple could sense her growing trouble.

“I don’t see why we have to hide something that is just so real.” Ron massaged Hermione’s scalp. “You know, for once I want to follow Lavender’s example. Hermione, I love you. I just want to run through the castle proclaiming it at the top of my lungs. Hell, half of Gryffindor is waiting for me to.”

Hermione shrugged. “I just want us to be private.”

“Yes, I know. But how easy is ignoring the elephant in the common room?”

“Give me some time, will you?” asked Hermione, a soft plead.

“We’ve had more than enough time,” said Ron as he looked up at the sky. “This gorgeous night could be the start of the rest of our life together. We have the whole world in the palm of our hands. With freedom like that, it’s so much easier to just let yourself go.” Hermione leaned up to kiss Ron’s neck repeatedly, tickling him as she got closer to his ear. Ron tried to muffle his chuckle.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Well, it’s just you and me,” Hermione crooned.

“Really? I was unaware that there was anyone else in the castle,” said Ron playfully. He held her close in his strong arms. “As far as I’m concerned, you and I are Hogwarts tonight. No, we’re Britain!”

Hermione did not even try to fight off the grin stretching across her moonlit face. “You charmer, you are trying too hard!” Ron seemed to already have an ideal response on the tip of his tongue. “Just say you love me and I’ll call it a draw.” Hermione chose to say this not with words, but with a deep kiss that tackled Ron backwards to the ground.

Rose pushed herself from the wall and stepped back into the darkness of the corridor. She had seen quite enough. Trying to ignore what felt like a stone in the pit of her stomach, she slinked off down the hall toward the stairs. The whole way to bed, she cursed herself for such resentment towards two people she so deeply cared about. But Rose had to be honest with herself. And the truth hurt as much as the denial. How could she not end up upset with Hermione and Ron when they had something she wanted so badly?


	12. The truth comes out

Severus swept through the halls, robes billowing behind him. He sighed at the effort to maintain his age old, student-repelling stalk. His stomach was churning again; that morning’s porcelain worship had been particularly violent. So violent that it was almost incredible that he had managed to leave his chambers. But Severus couldn’t quite tell if this was out of sheer nausea or growing anxiety. He swallowed hard, his mouth salivating as he closed in on the hospital wing.

After nearly three weeks of trying and failing to cope, Severus had finally had enough. He was tired of waking up and vomiting before thinking to do anything else. He hated the crippling exhaustion that rendered him just about useless in the evening. And recently, the dizziness he had mentioned to Minerva was beginning to get worse. He had already had a close call that forced him to dismiss his class of Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Fourth years. He had resigned to the fact that doing so only provided more fodder for the whispers in the common rooms. But Severus could not bring himself to care about the students talking behind his back. For once, he was too concerned for his own wellbeing, and he should have been after a month of listening to the staff’s incessant clucking. If anything, he was going to see Poppy to shut them up. Even Rose Beckett had chosen to end her stint of detentions with a little check on his health. Though she was a great deal more tolerable, her concerns were quite disconcerting.

Severus was filled with a sense of dread as he approached the third floor. He should have had no worries about seeing the school’s Mediwitch; she had helped to get him through many rough Death Eater meetings and times when he ended up on the wrong end of Lord Voldemort’s wand. Not to mention that this was the same woman who was partly responsible for saving his life. But Severus knew well how she worked. She didn’t ask too many questions until she was truly stumped. Then she would do everything short of poking and prodding in search of a diagnosis. The last thing that Severus needed was for her to bring up that “little scuffle” from August that caused them both so much trouble. He had done his best to push the rape out of the forefront of his thoughts, his small attempt to take his life back. He could not let that take control once again.

**~HP~**

Poppy Pomfrey walked up and down the rows of empty beds, smoothing out the covers and fluffing up the pillows. It was as though she was expecting one or two of them to be filled by nightfall. It was still early in the day after all. She barely flinched when the door was pushed open and Severus walked in, glancing up when he cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Severus,” she curtly said, as though surprised.

“Poppy,” said Severus, the answer just as short. Already, the old nurse was staring into two coal black slits for eyes. If Severus still thought that he could intimidate her, he was in for quite a surprise. As foreboding as he could be, Poppy would not be shaken up by a man she had known since he was a boy. “What brings you up here this morning?”

Severus looked up and down at each bed, making sure that they were alone in the hospital. Only then did he seem to drop whatever act he was trying to put up, visibly wilting before Poppy. “As much as it pains me to say this, I need your help,” he half said, half sighed.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m sure that you have heard the rumors that I have been ill recently?”

Poppy looked up from what she was doing, a curious arch in her brow. “You are not here to tell me that they are true, are you?”

“Regretfully, I am,” Severus reluctantly admitted. “Yes… yes, they are.”

Poppy took a minute to get a good look the Potions master. Indeed, Severus did look far paler than she was accustomed to, and his face held a faint greenish hue. Her gaze traveled down his body; his robes were ill-fitted as though he had lost some weight. Back up again and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Had he lost sleep as well? It seemed that the students had reason to gossip after all.

“Come with me,” she said as she motioned for Severus to follow. She led him to one of the private rooms at the far end of the wing. The midmorning sun poured in through the windows across the floor and the full bed. Across the room were a sink and a set of cupboards, and beside the door was a small empty table. Severus quickly realized that it was the same room where he had spent his post-battle recovery time. Bloody terrific, he thought.

Poppy urged Severus to sit down on the bed as she closed the door behind them. She then summoned his medical records, pulled up a chair to the bedside, and looked at Severus as she sat down. “Now Severus,” she began. “If you could please tell me your symptoms.”

Severus tried to maintain eye contact. “In the early mornings, I feel incredibly nauseous. By the time I usually rise, I’m being sick. It usually lets up by noontime, but then for the rest of the day, I’m almost completely exhausted.”

“How often are you sick? And how severe is the nausea?”

“It depends on the day?”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Poppy, slightly confused.

“Some days, I vomit once and then I’m fine. Others, I hardly have the strength to get off the bathroom floor. Others still, I’m alright until classes begin, and then it comes back with a vengeance.”

Poppy silently took in the words, her concern growing. “How long has this been happening?”

“Two…three weeks?”

Inside her head, Poppy was screaming. What on earth would possess Severus to put this off for that long? However, she managed to keep her composure as she looked over the Potions master. He looked so very peaky, and he put his hand to his head as though he had a terrible headache. “How do you feel right now?” she asked.

“I still feel a bit ill.”

_‘And you look every bit of it,’_ Poppy thought to herself. “Have you felt lightheaded at all?”

Severus nodded. “Yes, a few times and with no cause.”

“Anything else unusual?”

“Um…” Severus flushed a light pink, embarrassment bringing color to his face. “I’ve found that I’ve had to urinate more often than I used to, and…my chest seems to be more sensitive.”

“How so?” asked Poppy.

“Like it bloody fucking hurt to wear robes a few days ago.”

Poppy nodded firmly; she did not need further explanation. She wrinkled her eyebrows as she reviewed the information she had gathered in her head. There was something oddly familiar about these symptoms. The way that Severus was talking, one would have thought that he was… No! It was impossible! Alright, maybe it wasn’t impossible. But it was still incredibly rare, and it had not happened in centuries. It couldn’t be…could it? Poppy swallowed.

“What?” asked Severus.

“I have an idea of what might be ailing you,” Poppy said as she stood up and turned away. _‘And I really hope that I’m wrong.’_

Poppy left the room and made her way into her spacious office at the edge of the wing. She grabbed a small bottle filled to the brim with a clear potion from a drawer, along with a second, milkier potion bottle and a small beaker. She also summoned a needle from across the room. She walked back into the small, private room with the equipment in her hands. She set it all down on the table by the door. She slowly poured the water-like brew into the glass, prepared the syringe, and then turned back to Severus. Poppy didn’t need to say a single word to the Potions master. Severus unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his left sleeve. He then looked back to the Mediwitch who, ignoring the scar where his Dark Mark used to be, walked over to the bed. Once she had found the vein in Severus’s elbow, Poppy shot a quick glance to him. He looked away from what she was doing. It wasn’t that needles bothered Severus, oh no sir! It was just that somehow, Severus deemed it respectful to Poppy if he remained completely passive. And these days, the more respect he got from his colleagues and likewise, the better. Severus didn’t so much as flinch as Poppy breached his pale flesh.

After collecting a fair amount of blood, Poppy carefully removed the needle and quickly patched up the tiny wound. She walked over to the table and emptied some of the blood into the clear solution, beginning to stir. Severus could hear her quietly muttering some incantation. Poppy stopped stirring and let the mixture swirl. The cloudiness of the blood disappeared and the mixture turned a pale pink. And then Poppy carefully added a single drop of the second potion.

The mixture turned bright blue.

Poppy had to stop herself from gasping. Hastily, though not enough to alert Severus, she conjured up a second set of beakers, and she ran the test again. She got the same result. This couldn’t be! Trying to contain the fret, she turned to look at Severus.

“Well?” he asked.

“Um… Severus,” said Poppy, trying to hide her obvious shock. “Would you lie down for a moment, please?”

Poppy pulled out her wand as Severus lay back on the bed, a rightfully puzzled look on his face. “Remove your robes,” she demanded. Severus unbuttoned his frock coat, then the crisp white shirt underneath. Poppy pointed her wand at his abdomen and silently cast a spell. A mist appeared above Snape’s body and as the moments wore on, it took on a golden shine. Poppy’s eyes widened in her own disbelief. There was no mistake, both tests were accurate. There was no way she was wrong.

Professor Severus Snape was pregnant.

“What is it?” asked Severus. “What’s wrong?” He sat on the edge of the bed after he finished buttoning up his shirt and started on his waistcoat. Poppy was forced to search her mind for the right words. “Well…I do know what it is.” She sat down in her chair by the bed.

“And?”

“Severus, I’m not sure how to tell you this –,”

“I’m dying, aren’t I?” Severus cut her off.

“Severus…”

“I understand, Poppy. Years of spell exposure and curses are finally having an impact on my health.”

“Severus…no, you are not dying,” Poppy explained. _‘Although you will wish you were after I say this.’_ She pulled the chair closer and rested her hand on the wizard’s. “You are far from dying, actually. As I said, I don’t know exactly how to tell you this if not bluntly. And I warn you, this may come as a shock. The reason for your unusual symptoms is that…it’s because you are pregnant.”

The look on Severus’s face was almost indescribable. It was a look of utter shock in the midst of complete confusion. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open slightly. “What?”

“You’re pregnant,” Poppy repeated. “You’re going to have a baby.”

Severus shook his head as his eyes traveled down to his flat midsection. “You have got to be joking.” The familiar growl crept into his voice.

Poppy’s tone of voice turned serious and defensive against the Potions master’s attempts to threaten her. “I’m not joking, Severus. Why would I joke with you about something like this?” Poppy vaguely wondered why she would joke with Severus at all.

“But Poppy, I’m not some kind of idiot,” Severus snarled. “I am a man. There is no way that I could be pregnant!”

“Well, the condition is very rare, but there are ways in which a wizard can come to be with child. And according to the two different pregnancy tests that I performed on you, you are.”

“Your tests are wrong!”

“Both of my tests are accurate, Severus. There was only a small fraction of a chance that the potion test could have been wrong, and therefore, I performed the detection charm for good measure. The results of both were very positive.”

“Then perform them again!” Severus snapped at the Mediwitch. “There has to be some kind of mistake!”

“I already ran the potion test twice with the same result, but if you insist.”

Poppy then performed both tests for a second and third time in Severus’s full view, explaining both as she went along. Again, both came out positive, clear as day. Severus’s face seemed to show his slowly increasing panic, until it looked as though he was about to be sick. His face paled as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He gripped the sheets with his other hand.

“Severus, are you alright?” asked Poppy. But before Severus could answer, his stomach violently turned. He ran to the closest thing he could get to, that being the sink in the corner. He felt Poppy come up behind him. She carefully reached around him and turned on the faucet. Ever so gently, she rubbed his back as he heaved over the sink. A little less than a minute later, the vomiting ceased. Severus rested his forehead on the brim of the sink, moaning miserably.

“ _Accio glass!”_ Poppy commanded. Once it was in her hand, Poppy held the glass under the cold running water. She then placed her hand on Severus’s shoulder, encouraging him to drink. After Severus had a few sips, Poppy slowly guided him back to the bed. Severus lay down and rested for a moment. Poppy set the glass of water down on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. She watched the younger wizard as emotion slowly took over his chilly exterior. His breathing was deep and shaky as he shook his head to himself, his eyes clamped shut. She touched his leg.

“Something tells me that congratulations are not in order,” she said quietly. Severus briefly glanced at her, but then turned his head away again. “This can’t really be happening,” he said. “This just can’t happen.”

Poppy was almost at a loss for words. “Not naturally, but we do live in a magical world. Judging from your reaction, I don’t believe it would be right to assume that you yourself caused this.”

“You thought right.” Severus almost choked on his own words.

Poppy let Severus calm down for a little while. She gently ran her hand up and down his thigh, trying to provide a small form of comfort. In the meantime, she began searching her long memory for any kind of explanation. Though male pregnancy was possible in the Wizarding world, it was such a rare occurrence that any known cases had long since been forgotten. The magic involved was vague and mostly unexplored. There were a massive number of questions and theories flying through Poppy’s mind. But for now, the best she could do was to get as much information from Severus as she could.

“Severus, I need you to be completely honest with me.” Severus glared at her, but Poppy stood her ground. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Snape. This is important.”

Severus sighed. “Very well.”

“Were you involved with someone within the last three months?”

Severus scowled as he sat up in bed. “My personal matters are none of your business. Why should I tell you?”

“Because,” Poppy began. “I’m trying to figure out how something like this _could_ happen?”

“Brilliant, Poppy!” exclaimed Severus. “We’ll be here all night.”

“Not so fast. We don’t have to be if you just listen to what I have to say, swallow your pride, and talk to me.”

Severus tried to growl, but found his throat to still be too raw. Instead, his hand came up to wipe his face. “Do you have any theories as to how this happened?” he asked.

“I do,” Poppy answered. “But as I already said, you have got to be completely honest with me. If you just sit there and tell me to bugger off, we _will_ be here all night.” Severus’s face spelled reluctant surrender. Poppy nodded. “Well then, I don’t know exactly what caused you to conceive –,”

“Poppy,” Severus interrupted. “Be honest. Did you even have the slightest clue that wizards could get pregnant in the first place?”

“I remember joking with friends about it when I was training at St. Mungo’s, and I may have heard a rumor or two along the way, but it was never serious.”

“How can I be sure that you are telling the truth?” asked Severus. “You obviously knew to perform a pregnancy test.”

“It just struck me as odd. The symptoms you described were identical to those that most women experience in early pregnancy. I just couldn’t help but wonder. Those rumors had to come from somewhere after all.”

“Indeed,” Severus looked away from Poppy. From years of treating teenagers who didn’t want to give out too much information, Poppy could tell that Severus was acting just as so. A certain look in the man’s eyes made Poppy think that he was mortified. And there wasn’t much reason to blame him.

She fell deep into thought, paging through the folder that contained Severus’s medicinal information. She came across some of the most recent documents. When Poppy subsequently treated Severus after the great battle, she discovered that his body showed evidence of having been heavily cursed. While she could tell that the spell was Dark magic, most likely the work of You-know-who himself, she was unable to determine the spell or its nature. Seeing that it didn’t leave any immediate damage, she figured that it wasn’t much to worry about. But male pregnancy had its roots in spell-work, and the effects were not always obvious. As she sat there rereading, a disturbing thought came to her.

She put her hand on Snape’s shoulder. “Tell me, Severus. Do you think that this could have something to do with You-know-who?”

Severus sighed, shifting so that he sat on the edge of the bed beside Poppy. “More than likely,” he grudgingly admitted. Poppy pulled out his documents from May and held them so that Severus could see. “When I treated you back in May, the other healers and I discovered that your body had been exposed to some Dark magic. Were you cursed by anyone the night before in the Shrieking Shack?” Severus just nodded.

“Was it You-know-who who cursed you?” Poppy asked this in a hushed voice as though it was still a bad idea to talk about the Dark Lord, especially with Severus. Again, Severus just nodded. “Can you tell me what happened in those last few hours?”

Severus still didn’t look at Poppy. Instead, he stared down at the floor. “The Dark Lord didn’t curse me for any particular reason. At least I don’t think he did. To me, it just seemed like he was bored. As far as he was concerned, he had already won the war. I was there, so he took advantage of it…” He paused, his voice suddenly dropping down until it was nearly a whisper. To Poppy, he sounded wounded, almost timid. “Now that I think of it, he may have been trying to weaken me down so I could die faster.” He paused again.

“What did he do to you?” asked Poppy, suddenly producing a quill and a sheet of parchment.

“He cruciated me…three times. But while I was still down on the floor, the Dark Lord cast another spell on me.”

“Do you remember what he said when he cast the spell?”

“No, it was nonverbal. I couldn’t even hear him breathing. I only remember a violet light shooting from his wand and hitting me in the stomach.”

“How did you feel afterward?”

“All I felt was a sharp pain deep in my pelvis. That’s it.”

“Alright,” said Poppy, quickly writing down Severus’s words. “Are you sure you don’t remember You-know-who saying anything?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Severus nodded.

“Now, Severus,” Poppy blushed as the Potions master finally glanced up at her, suddenly hesitating. “I know that you know just as well as I do what it usually takes to make a baby.” Severus looked away, some color also creeping back into his face. “Have you been intimate with anyone since that night?” Severus turned his head. The look in Severus’s eyes was not unlike that of a shy teenage boy. It was a look that Poppy was quite familiar with, yet it was so out of character for Snape. A thought suddenly came to her.

“Severus…have you been intimate with anyone _at all_?” she raised her eyebrows slightly. Severus’s face turned beet red and his hand came up to rub his eyes. Then he slowly shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “I haven’t.”

For the first time that morning, the Potions master locked eyes with the Mediwitch. In those deep, black eyes, there was honesty, but there was also suppression. Either way, Poppy was still confused. Either Severus was a virgin or he wasn’t. And given that sexual activity was always required to achieve a male pregnancy, the Mediwitch was more inclined to believe that Severus was lying. But Poppy did not sense deceit, and that meant that it came down to Severus’s definitions of intimacy. He might not have known the real power of romantic love, but sex was a primal act, and feeling was not always necessary for it to happen. That was when Poppy turned back down to the papers in her lap, and the last pages caught her attention.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her. The one possibility that she might have always known, but dismissed for the sake of a friend.

She recalled that warm August night, when Dumbledore came running into her office, huffing and puffing about how Severus was hurt on the floor of his office. Poppy was accustomed to the sight of an injured Severus after all those years of Death Eater spying, but even she was shocked by the condition the younger wizard was in when she saw him, battered and bloodied and bruised. The Mediwitch could barely imagine what had happened, except that it was grotesquely violent. But the one thing Poppy found most puzzling was that when she went to survey the extent of the damage, Severus refused to remove any of his clothing. He barely even wanted to be physically touched! Refusing to leave her job unfinished, Poppy ended up giving Severus a doozy of a Sleeping Draught, and then waited for him to fall asleep before finally getting a look at his wounds.

But Poppy wished she had never done that, not after she saw what Severus’s robes hid below the waist. She was sickened at the very sight; she had seen these injuries before, but not on any man she had treated. Poppy knew what had really happened to Severus that night, and she felt anger unlike any she had felt in years. How could anyone think they could get away with such violence? 

But against her better judgment, as well as a good part of her training, she kept the information to herself. Severus had shown no indication of wanting to reveal the depth of his assault, and she was not going to push him. If such an occasion arose that it began to affect his wellbeing, she would aid him in getting proper treatment. Now, that time had come, and all Poppy knew was that for clarity’s sake, she had to get this information out of him. But she had to be careful. If Severus truly did consider himself a virgin, she didn’t want to humiliate him any more than she already had.

“I don’t mean to call you a liar,” she said. “But even in these unusual circumstances, conception can only happen after sexual activity. You might not have been involved with someone, but perhaps there was a time when you were…reluctant.”

Instantly, the walls went up around Severus with a snarl. He was not naïve in the slightest; he knew damn well what she meant. Severus suddenly shifted his body so that his back was to her. “What are you playing at?” he growled. Poppy’s own features hardened, and she grabbed hold of the wizard’s wrist.

“I cannot find the spell that did this without information, nor the method of conception. Whatever you can tell me will help me to treat you.” Poppy leaned closer to Severus’s ear, and she whispered, “This can just stay between us for now. It’s alright to tell me, Severus. Did something happen to you that you didn’t tell us about?”

Severus didn’t turn back to face Poppy. He just kept his head turned. Then he spoke in his low voice. “I can’t tell you.”

Poppy frowned, her eyebrows wrinkling in concern. “Why not?”

“I have my reasons. But I just can’t tell you right now.”

Poppy wished that she had a clearer view of the Potions master’s face. But the mere fact that Severus couldn’t talk to her all but confirmed her suspicions. For the time being, Poppy decided that it was a better idea to not press the subject. If Severus wasn’t comfortable with confiding in her, she had to respect that. The only trouble was that he could be withholding valuable information that she needed, like the date of conception. Without that, she couldn’t tell him exactly how many weeks into his pregnancy he was or when his due date could be.

“Can you at least tell me how far along you think you are?” she asked, now trying to work around the issue.

Severus slowly nodded, still not facing her. “Two months…I presume.” He sounded downright humiliated now. It was also just what Poppy guessed would be the case. Now she had something to work with. But before she could begin, she had to get one very, very important question out of the way.

“Alright dear, I don’t want to overwhelm you. But what do you intend to do about this pregnancy? You do know that you have options.”

Severus finally turned back to her, blank faced. “I don’t know,” he said, no detectable emotion in his deep voice. “I just don’t know.” He looked dead serious, amidst what Poppy saw as obvious fear. She nodded. “Very well, I’m not asking for you to make your choice this very moment. And I can’t sway your decision.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “But no matter what you decide, you have to tell Albus as soon as possible.”

Severus groaned as he stood up. “That meddlesome old fool will probably demand that I don’t do a thing about it.”

“You might be surprised. Albus can be terrifically supportive in times like this. But he is the headmaster, and the headmaster must know about certain things concerning his teachers.”

To Poppy’s surprise, Severus did not put up a fight. By that point, he just looked thoroughly defeated and exhausted. “I’ll tell him this afternoon,” he quietly said, unconsciously tugging at his robes. Poppy acknowledged him with a nod and a small smile and Severus turned to leave. Poppy stood up, tucking his records under her arm. “I hope you know that we will do what we can to help you.” But Severus didn’t respond. He just walked out of the room, and out of the hospital wing, trying to maintain the stride he was so known for.

**~HP~**

It was closer to the evening when Severus worked up the courage to face the headmaster. But even as he slowly walked up to Dumbledore’s office, he felt sick with dread as to what he had to do. It was more than enough for him to be told that he was suffering from something as unthinkable as a pregnancy. He had already spent much of the day trying to recover from such a shock. But now he had to subject himself to the humiliation of informing Dumbledore himself. He had to face the shame of admitting his condition.

How could this have happened? Of all things that could have made his life more unbearable, why did it have to be this? Just when he thought he had moved passed that horrendous attack, it had to turn out to be far worse than he could have ever imagined. Now he had to surrender to the idea that Dumbledore could somehow make it all better? What were the bloody chances that he had heard of something like male pregnancy? Poppy had only known it as the joke it always was. Who was to say that this was common enough knowledge that the wise old headmaster would take it seriously? Severus felt more like he was about to be strapped into the stocks and mocked, rather than simply informing Dumbledore of a personal problem.

He ignored the stares of passing students the whole way up from the dungeons. Those prying eyes did nothing but help build up his quiet panic; it was as though he was under a magnifying glass. He rounded the corner and approached the gargoyle that hid those winding steps. He glanced around to be sure of his solitude before uttering the password. He fought to keep his breathing low and calm.

Dumbledore was drowning in paperwork behind his desk when the door creaked open and Severus stepped into his office. He looked up from his work and, noticing the Potions master, he set his quill down in its purple well. “Severus!” he said, smiling warmly. “A pleasant surprise! How are you, my boy?”

“I could be better, Headmaster,” said Severus, trying to avoid eye contact with the older wizard. He uncomfortably tugged his robes.

“How many times, Severus? It is perfectly alright to call me Albus.”

“It’s a force of habit, sir.” Severus sat down in the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. The elderly headmaster held forth a glass bowl. “Lemon drop?” Severus just shook his head. Albus set the bowl down again and pushed away the rolls of parchment in front of him. “Now, what brings you here this fine evening?”

Severus was quiet, trying to find words to start. “My…my health.”

“Ah yes,” Albus nodded. “Minerva did mention to me that you went to see Poppy this morning.”

“That is true.”

“And was she able to determine what is ailing you?”

“She was…” Severus’s face fell as he gripped his knee to stop his hand from shaking. Albus immediately saw that the pale wizard was upset, and blue eyes widened behind his glasses.

“Oh dear! How serious is your illness?”

“I don’t know if you could call it an illness, but it’s pretty big.” Severus groaned when images of himself at nine months pregnant suddenly flooded his mind. That only added to his already incredible fear and shame. It was amazing that he could breathe with the tension building up in his chest, a tension that was slowly inching up into his throat.

“Then what is it?”

That was when Severus suddenly lost his tight control over his emotions and let a single tear fall down his face. Swiftly, Dumbledore got up and walked around the desk. He bent over and placed a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Severus. Everything is going to be fine. Now, how ill are you?”

“I’m not ill, Albus,” said Severus, quietly. “I’m pregnant.”

Severus cringed and waited for the laughter. But it never came. Instead, another gentle hand cupped his cheek and brought his face up to meet the headmaster’s twinkling eyes. “Oh, my boy! Is that it? I don’t know why that didn’t cross my mind. Are you absolutely sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Severus growled. “Poppy ran those tests three times…wait a minute. You’re not shocked by this?!”

“Oh no Severus, I have had knowledge of wizards becoming pregnant in the past.”

“Merlin, Albus! You know everything!”

“It certainly would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” said Albus, taking a chance on some light humor. “Trust me, my boy, I don’t know _everything._ ”

Severus took several deep, quivering breaths, desperately trying to pull himself together. He also wiped away his tears. It was bad enough to be in this situation, but to cry in front of the headmaster was just humiliating. Sure, he had done it before, but that was nearly twenty years ago. “There there, Severus,” Albus comforted. “It could have been far worse. If you ask me, this is wonderful news.” Severus just shook his head as he finally got a hold of himself. Once he was sure that Severus was calm, Albus walked back behind his desk and sat down.

“Now, how far along are you?” he asked.

“Around two months, give or take a few weeks,” Severus answered, still not looking at the old professor.

“Ah, so you believe the child was conceived in August?”

“It would seem so.” The two men were quiet for a moment, and then Severus spoke again. “Well…aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

“Aren’t you going to ask me who the other father is?”

“Well, seeing how distressed you are tells me that no matter who he is, this is not a welcome pregnancy.” Severus nodded at that. “But if you’re not ready to tell me who he is, that is perfectly fine.”

“It isn’t that, Albus.”

Dumbledore leaned his back onto his chair and did what he did best. He thought, running his fingers through the length of his beard. “Would it have anything to do with how this child was conceived?” Severus merely stared into the fire. “Do you mind my asking? I don’t mean to invade your private life.” The younger wizard shook his head, closing his eyes as he did so.

Albus spoke again. “What do you think it was that caused this?”

“Poppy believes that I have been cursed by the Dark lord.” Snape’s answer made Dumbledore’s eyes go wide. “But she doesn’t believe him to be the father. If this curse had impregnated me on the spot, I would have been getting sick in Azkaban.”

The headmaster nodded. That was a good point. “Precisely. You are not currently seeing anyone, right?”

“No sir, I’m still single. I have been for far too long.”

“Am I correct to say that your fancy is still for women?” Dumbledore asked this question delicately as the look on Severus’s face suggested that this was still a sore subject.

“Yes sir,” Severus’s voice was soft and vulnerable.

“Has this changed at any time?”

Severus was suspicious as he listened to Albus. Where was he going with this? He put up his guard. “No, I’m as straight as I ever have been. Why must you ask?”

“I was merely suggesting that in past cases of male pregnancy, however few there are, said male had used either a spell or potion in order to conceive with another wizard.” Severus flinched at Dumbledore’s words, a reaction that the headmaster noticed right away. “I was merely asking you if you have had any encounters with a man in recent months, perhaps around the height of the summer”

Severus turned to Albus, a look of violation and annoyance gracing his face. Why did he even bother with Dumbledore? Thinking back to his state of mind after the rape, Severus cursed himself for being far too distraught for his Occlumency to be of any use. Dumbledore obviously already knew that something else happened in Knockturn Alley and that his attacker did more than just knock him around. And just when he thought a secret could stay as such!

Albus continued. “Did you discuss this with Poppy?”

“No…” Severus half-lied. The tone in his voice was somewhere between his usual defense and just plain embarrassment. But neither could hide how hesitant Severus was to open up fully.

“You know that it is just me here.” This was said with a certain bark, and Severus noticed the past headmasters jump and shuffle out of their portraits. Satisfied, Albus continued. “I will keep this secret safe, if that is what you want.”

_‘Damn it! The man never lies!’_ Severus thought. But somehow, there was something about Albus that spoke to him, telling him that it was safe for him to know it all.

“Tell me, Severus. What happened?” Albus relaxed into his chair, as though he was ready to listen to a long tale. There was no use in fighting with Dumbledore. If the old man ever wanted to know something, he found ways of finding out. Some could even say that Severus was a living example of this fact. But even so, he was also true to his word. Sighing heavily, Severus surrendered to ultimate defeat.

So Severus told Albus the true story of the twelfth night of August. He told him everything he could recall, from his attacker’s brutality, to the act itself, to the menacing threats woven between them. With every flustered word, quiet pause, and rattled breath, Albus’s face became longer and longer. His face was a mask of sympathy and disgusted horror. He went from leaning into his chair to hunching over his desk. Once Severus was finished with what he had to say, there was a silence that created an uncomfortable density in the room. Even Fawkes was stunningly quiet upon his perch.

“Oh, Severus!” Albus’s voice sounded as though he had been punched in the chest. “Why didn’t you say something to us then?”

“To tell you the truth, Albus, I really don’t know. I didn’t have much ability to think.” Maybe because of humiliation? Privacy? Or perhaps shock? Even now, Severus could not differentiate between the three.

“I don’t blame you! That’s just awful! No one deserves anything like that.” Severus was looking away again. Albus continued, “And to think why he did that, it’s despicable. Severus, my dear boy, I am so sorry.”

The distressed wizard before Albus had absolutely nothing to say. The headmaster stood from his chair and began to pace about the room. Fawkes watched him travel across the floor. “We know this man to be a Death Eater?”

Severus shook his head. “He could have been a Death Eater, he could have been an outside supporter.” His voice got hoarser as he got more and more upset with every word. “Either way, I couldn’t tell. He kept his face concealed and his voice down. And he was probably using spells to hide them both.”

“He knew what he was doing,” Albus nodded. “And it doesn’t take a genius to see that he had a clear motive.” The old wizard again ran his fingers down his beard, deep in thought. “Severus, are you sure that you don’t have a clear idea about this man’s identity?”

Severus, his eyes now glued to the floor, slowly nodded. In his view, he was now in his own personal hell. He was humiliated by having to tell the headmaster such a tale, ashamed that he was left so traumatized that he couldn’t even form a remote idea about who his attacker was. And to top it all off, the reality of his pregnancy was beginning to sink in. He leaned in on himself, cradling his head in his hands. The stress and tension was making him feel like his head was to explode at any moment. He felt Albus cross the floor and place a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, my boy.”

“No, it’s not!” Severus’s voice cracked with suppressed emotion. “This is horrible. Don’t talk to me like it’s not, old man!” He breathed hard, desperately trying to control himself. Albus’s touch was a comforting grip. And it was under this touch that Severus just lost it. He wept into his hands as Albus gently rubbed his upper back.

“I know, Severus. This is all too much.”

Severus looked up with wet, red eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Albus. Oh God, what the hell am I going to do?!”

Albus waved his hand through the air. There was a scratching ‘thud’ as a second chair appeared across from Severus. Albus settled himself down, facing the distressed wizard. “Not to fret, Severus. We will sort everything out. Right now, the first and most important thing is your wellbeing. Do you know what you are going to do about your pregnancy?” Severus shook his head, still quite distraught. Albus decided to help him out a bit.

“I trust that Poppy has informed you of your options. You know that it’s only a matter of taking a potion and doing so as soon as possible.” Albus didn’t mean a thing in saying that, taking a huge risk with such a suggestion. Apparently, it paid off. Severus looked at him, shock in his onyx eyes.

“You are suggesting that I terminate the pregnancy?”

“It is an option, Severus. While I personally don’t agree with it, it’s still your decision.”

Severus shook his head, as though refusing to believe it was Albus Dumbledore giving him the choice. “No…I can’t do that. I can’t kill the child.”

Albus left it at that. “Alright, so you intend to keep the child?”

“Well, I…it’s just that…I haven’t…I don’t know.”

Again, Albus took it upon himself to help Severus make up his mind. “Let me ask you this. Did you ever see yourself becoming a father?” Severus nodded. “Do you still wish to be a father?”

Severus was quiet for nearly a full minute before he said, almost in a whisper, “Yes.”

“Then I see no reason for you not to keep this child.”

“But Albus, I’ve been through far too much in the last twenty years. For Merlin’s sake, I could have been dead a mere six months ago. How can I have a baby when I’m still trying to restart my life?”

“I believe that the answer is in the question. I understand the pressure and strain that you’ve been made to live with these long years. I’m sorry for all of it. But it’s all over now. You have the freedom to do what you will. If ask me, this is a very good time for you to start a family.”

“How do I know if I’m ready to be a parent? How do I know if I’ll be a good father?” Severus’s voice was uncharacteristically small and timid.

“Only time will tell, Severus. But I believe that you have all the potential in the world to be an excellent father, if your students are anything to go by.” Albus noticed Severus’s face twist at the mention of the students. “Did I say something?”

“Albus, I can’t let the students find out. It’s humiliating enough for you and Poppy to know. But if a stupid child finds out and tells the first person who will listen…oh Merlin…I’ll be the laughing stock of the Wizarding world!” Severus leaned in on himself and buried his face in his hands.

“Now Severus –,”

“Be realistic, Albus,” Severus barked. “When was the last time a wizard bore a child?”

Albus thought for a moment. “Around four hundred years ago.”

“Exactly. They are gossiping to criminal extent as it is. But most of them are not so stupid. Do you honestly believe that something like me – _me_ – being pregnant could go unnoticed?”

“Not unless we want it to,” said Albus, wagging a finger at thin air. “I see your point, and I agree. I also believe that it will be safer for you to keep your pregnancy a secret.” Severus looked at the headmaster, seeking an explanation. “Your attacker’s threats disturb me greatly.”

“I’m perfectly capable of defending myself,” Severus sneered.

“I know you are, but you might not be as your condition advances. As much as I want to help support you, I also want to protect you, you and the child.”

Severus reluctantly nodded. Though he would never admit it aloud, it was a comfort to know that he still had the security that Dumbledore always offered. “So what did you have in mind?”

“We keep your condition a secret, using whatever means to accomplish that, and only a very small number of people will know about it. Trust me, no students will know about this. We’ll let them think what they want, but they won’t know the truth.”

“This small number of people, who did you mean?” asked Severus, sitting up again.

“Only people that will be of the most use to you,” Albus reassured. But before he could continue, Severus stopped him with a motion of his hand.

“Who _exactly_ did you have in mind?”

Albus sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I believe that as my deputy, Minerva has the right to know.” Severus nodded in agreement as Albus continued. “Pomona and Filius should also be notified. Both of them could potentially help you in coming months – that is, if you need it.”

Again, Severus reluctantly nodded. Albus sat up straighter, knowing in the back his mind that he was going have to fiercely defend his last suggestion. This was Severus after all. “And I feel that it would also be a good idea to let Remus know.”

Severus’s head jerked up at that. “Lupin?! Why Lupin?!” he growled.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think that this is any of his damn business. He has no bearing on this situation whatsoever, and he won’t be of any use at all.”

“On the contrary, Severus, I think that Remus could prove to be very handy. He’s the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, therefore giving us the upper hand in keeping you safe. And quite frankly, Remus is a father.”

“Hardly, his son is being raised by his mother-in-law.”

“Only partly, and it’s for the little one’s own good. But I’ve seen Remus with his son, and he is a fantastic father if I do say so myself. I like to believe that in time, he can give you help and advice with the baby.”

Severus remained silent, disregarding the opportunity for some snide comment. “I will tell them myself,” said Albus. “I don’t want you to worry too much.” Severus wilted back, his face long and his red streaked eyes looking nothing short of lost. His heart knotted up with sympathy, Albus leaned in. “Don’t be so down on yourself, Severus. This is not the end of the world.”

“You could have fooled me,” Severus shrugged.

“I understand if you’re scared. But it will all turn out alright in the end. Just let us help you. Let _me_ help you.”

Severus was skeptical. “You’ve broken promises before.”

“That I have. But I mean everything I’ve said here today. I will support you through this rough time. I will keep this pregnancy a secret, no matter what. And as far as this assailant is concerned, I already have Aurors searching high and low for Lord Voldemort’s followers. When the time comes that his identity is uncovered, I will personally see to it that he is brought to justice.”

Severus wanted to dive down to the floor and beg on his knees for Albus not to do that. He had survived and moved on from the rape; he did not want to be dragged back into that mortifying pain, even if it could end with justice. “With all due respect, Albus,” he half mumbled. “I have serious doubts that this man will ever be found. And quite frankly, I’m not sure if I want him to be found.”

“You wish to let him get away with what he did?” asked Albus, quite perplexed.

“I wish to forget about it. What happened to me was humiliating, degrading, and so painful. I hope that he burns in hell for what he did, but I don’t need to cause myself any more torture by forcing myself to relive it over and over again in the hopes that I remember _something._ I’ll go mad!”

Albus sighed. He realized that even though the first thing he thought to do was to file a report with the Aurors, the effect on Severus would be detrimental. He was still struggling as it was, he truthfully did not need to be bombarded with questions about something he sought to put out of his mind. Stress like that could not be good for his health, or the baby for that matter. “Very well, I understand,” said the headmaster, giving in. “This will only be between us. But if you ever change your mind, you come straight to me. Because believe me, we could catch him. I know we could.” All Severus could do was shake his head, emotionally drained and exhausted.

Albus urged him to stand. “Alright now, I want you to return to your rooms and rest up for the night. I will have the house elves whip something up for you, so don’t worry about coming up for supper. I will meet with Minerva and the others tonight to discuss the situation. Furthermore, I urge you to see Poppy again tomorrow for a thorough examination. Only the best care for the little one.” Severus nodded and Albus offered a warm smile. The Potions master turned to leave for the safety of his dark rooms. He was stalled briefly in the doorway.

“This really is a wonderful thing, my boy. You’ll see that soon enough.”

**~HP~**

Severus slammed his door shut, barely missing the hem of his long black robes. He threw himself onto his couch and buried his face in the cushions. He didn’t know whether to tear them up, smash his head against the wall, or simply crawl into some deep dark hole. He would do anything, anything to escape this gut-retching pain.

He was pregnant...somehow, he was pregnant. He actually carried a child within his own body. But what would be joyous news to many others could not be any more horrifying for Severus. And worse, there was no way out of it. He had seen so much death, caused too many to die; he couldn’t so willingly kill something as innocent as an unborn child. Yet why couldn’t there be some way he could stop the world and time, and rid himself of this turmoil? All he wanted was to have no need to remember that horrible night, and that brutal man. Now he had to birth his bastard child? Wherever he was, his rapist lived blissfully unaware of the true torture he had created. He dominated Severus’s life once again, and left him with a little something to remember him by. Good Lord, he was pregnant, and he didn’t know who his child’s other father was!

Emotions assaulted Severus on all sides; anger, fear, and the same shame that gripped him before Dumbledore. He could not honestly believe that it was a wonderful thing to be in the one position a man should never be in. This was not how he was supposed to have a family! He was not supposed to end up as a nearly forty year-old single father, knocked up by some psychopath. Wonderful news, wonderful news indeed! He still wasn’t even totally sure if he was going to keep the baby, how wonderful was that? The old wizard assumed that he knew what his younger colleague wanted, but Severus was just as clueless now as he was when he was walking up to face Dumbledore.

He barely acknowledged the house-elf that brought him the meal that the headmaster had promised, shepherd’s pie and soup. But Severus could not bring himself to eat any of it. His whole body ached, especially his troubled stomach. The mere smell made his insides cramp up. He just let the heat-charmed tray sit on the coffee table while he lay there, wallowing in his own misery. It was no time before he gave into his exhaustion and fell asleep on the couch.

He was suddenly awakened by the soft click of the door handle. Quiet panic gripping his heart, he arched up to get a look at his intruder. He was only slightly relieved to see Minerva gliding in. Severus sighed; she was recognized by his wards, so of course she could get the door open.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not bothering with a faux-polite greeting. Minerva approached the couch, saying, “I’ve just come from a meeting with Albus, and I wanted to check up on you before I turned in for tonight.”

“Please Minerva, I don’t need looking after.” Severus held out a hand, as though to push her away. “I just want to be left alone.”

Minerva glanced at the table to see the untouched food. “Severus, have you not eaten at all? Merlin, you are impossible sometimes.”

“I’m not hungry.” Severus glared up at her, trying to give the impression that he was fine.

“But you know that it won’t do you any good to skip a meal.” The elderly witch sat down as Severus shifted his legs off the couch. She grabbed the warm shepherd’s pie and held it out to the weary wizard. “No, Minerva,” said Severus, shaking his head.

“Please Severus, you really should eat something.”

“I can’t, I don’t feel that well.”

“You should at least try a little. The baby needs the nutrients.” Severus stared into her eyes. So this was how it was going to be. Reluctantly, he took the plate. Minerva watched as he managed to force down a few bites. His spine shuddered as they slid down his throat.

“You were awfully quick to point out my condition,” he said.

“Well dear, it is what matters most now.”

“How much talking did it take for the headmaster to convince you?” Severus pushed the food around his plate with the fork.

“Not very much, actually. Albus was quite direct in what he had to say, and Poppy was there to help explain. I cannot deny that we were shocked, but we all understand and accept your pregnancy. It’s just a funny idea, is all.” Severus groaned, causing Minerva to lean in closer. “I know what you are thinking, Severus. No, we did not laugh at you, and we never will.”

“What’s there to stop you from taking delight in my situation behind my back?”

Minerva sighed. “When will you stop believing that the world is out to get you? Yes, it is an unusual situation to say the least. But we’ll be here with you through the next few months. Those of us that were there tonight are behind you.”

“Trust me Minerva; there is only so much you can do.”

Minerva was quiet as she continued to watch Severus and his attempts to eat. He set his fork down and leaned into the cushion, cradling his head in his hand. _‘The poor thing,’_ she thought. She edged closer to rest a hand on his arm. “Why didn’t you tell us something sooner?” she asked. Severus didn’t move, nor did he speak. “Were you afraid that if you did, he would try and come after you again?” A short, slow nod was her only reply. “Well rest assured, he cannot hurt you here. He will never lay a hand on the child –,”

“I don’t even want to think about the child,” said Severus. “Forgive me, but it’s a bit difficult to see the good in life when you realize that you are carrying the spawn of some crazed ex-Death Eater.”

“I cannot say that I blame you,” said Minerva. “Many women would have a difficult time coping with that.”

“But even so,” Severus continued, his voice breaking up. “If you expect me to be happy that I’ll have a living thing leeching off of me for the next seven months, a living thing that I will eventually have to _give birth to,_ a burden that was born from pain… I’m sorry, but I just can’t.” Severus moved his hand to show Minerva the tears beginning to form in his obsidian eyes. He leaned into his emaciated body, setting the plate back onto the table. He blinked away the offending mist, drops hitting the floor.

“Oh Severus,” Minerva wrapped her arm around his shoulders and brought him in close. He rested his head on her shoulder, breathing deeply to stop the cries that so desperately wanted to get out. But Minerva did not protest the wetness forming on her robe. She let Severus silently weep into her shoulder, rubbing his arm and stroking his hair. She did not speak; she could tell that what Severus needed was not senseless words, but the sheer comfort of her embrace. She had seen him in plenty of bad times, but this was by far the worst.

Severus pulled away after a long few moments, wiping away the wet trails down his too-pale face. He shifted away from the deputy headmistress once again. She motioned toward the table. “Are you sure that you can’t manage anymore?” she said as she returned the half-eaten meal to the tray. Severus shook his head, shutting his eyes as he did so. “What’s the point of it? I will just end up bringing it back up tomorrow morning.”

Minerva stood up and tapped Severus on the shoulder. “Come on then, let’s get you to bed. Perhaps a good night’s sleep can help to ease that morning sickness.”

In honesty, that was the best suggestion Severus had heard all day. With his emotional outpourings, combined with his natural fatigue, it was a wonder that he was not practically dead on his feet. He thought that it was quite strange as he looked at the clock to see that it was barely half past eight. Thank Merlin that he had no Miss Beckett to worry about tonight!

Minerva pushed open the door to his bedchamber, standing aside to let him through. Severus immediately grabbed the nightshirt hanging from the hook on the bathroom door, and then shut himself inside the tiny room. Minerva busied herself by turning back the covers on the dark, canopied bed. When Severus returned a few minutes later, he was surprised to see that the older woman was still there, waiting for him. She took a step back as he eased down onto the edge of the bed.

“I suppose you have something more to say,” said Severus, running his fingers through his greasy hair.

“I just want to reiterate what I said before.” Minerva stepped forward and bent over to look him in the eye. “I expect you to ask for help if you need it. This pregnancy will be hard, and now is not the time for unneeded stress.” Severus looked down at his midsection, his brow wrinkled in repulse. Minerva brought his gaze back up with a hand under his chin. “This baby is a blessing. You may not see that now, but you will someday. In the meantime, I want you to take the best care of yourself, for your child’s sake.” Unable to resist, Minerva gave his stomach a light pat. She smiled. “That’s right, your child. Goodnight.” She quietly rose and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

As though stunned, Severus couldn’t move for a brief minute. This outpouring of support was a tough pill to swallow; it was too hard to believe. However, his eyes begging for the relief of slumber, he was not going to allow himself to dwell. He climbed into bed hoping that somewhere in those long vows, for everyone’s sake, Albus and Minerva were right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope that this method of magical male pregnancy makes sense. I still feel it was rather thrown together in the madness of putting this story together, but I'm working with it, and it will always be a work in progress. Let me know what you think.


	13. Impress and fight back

The weekend after Rose finished her detention was a welcome one. Even though she spent most of it sitting on a broom, fifty feet above the ground, she felt great to be out of Snape’s clutches. Talking with him those nights was interesting and satisfying, but she still had a life outside his classroom. She took part in Quidditch practice with all the enthusiasm she had, not letting on to anyone that she actually enjoyed her conversations with the greasy bastard. The fact that she liked Potions class again, people attributed that to Rose being back to her old self. Her habit of Granger-esque studying, however, the other Gryffindors simply thought her stubborn and thirsty to prove her skill. And if Rose was honest with herself, they were right.

Monday’s Potions lesson was a calm one. Plans to brew a simple concoction were thrown out in favor of quiet note-taking. Though Snape was attentive in the lesson and his teaching, Rose could see that he wasn’t entirely there that afternoon. His strict attention was gone, and his thoughts seemed to be somewhere off in the distance, the class just twenty or so nameless shadows. Concern for his wellbeing grew, and Rose wondered to herself if he had gotten any help yet. At times, she found herself caught between full attention and deliberate distraction.

Snape broke up the lesson with a series of questions and every time he turned to the class, Rose was ready. Her perk rivaled that of Hermione as their hands shot up into the air. Rose at times desperately hopped in her seat. And every time, Snape would choose her over her overachieving roommate. Though she was not the only one given the privilege to speak, hearing her voice was beginning to get tiresome. After the fifth correct answer, Rose could hear those behind her audibly groan. But she could not have possibly cared less. It wasn’t any of them she was trying to impress.

Several minutes before class was due to end, Snape abruptly ended the lesson. But instead of dismissing them and retreating into his dark office, he reached into a desk drawer. Out came a stack of parchment. The students held their breath; they knew exactly what these papers were. It was the first Potions exam of the term, taken and graded. For many of them, it was the first exam ever of that term. But because it was sprung on them rather suddenly, save for the few who caught the subtle hints, many were not expecting much of their grade.

“I must say, it was a miserable experience to grade these exams,” said Snape, his voice a low droll. “A bare few of you managed a decent score, but the rest of them were just dismal. If I were you, I would consider this test to be a fair warning for the rest of term, because this is the standard you should be able to live up to in real life. A NEWT level student should be far better then what many of you have proven to be.”

Snape was painfully slow as he glided from table to table, student to student, dropping exam papers in front of nervous kids. He would watch them out of the corner of his eye to have a gander at the reactions to their Cs and Ds. He came down the center aisle and stopped between what he came to realize had become the “head tables.” He turned to Harry. “Potter, with the connections that you possess, I’m rather surprised that you could not manage to manipulate your way to a better mark.” He tossed down Harry’s paper. Even from their seats, Hermione and Rose could make out the C– at the top of the page.

Snape turned to the girls, and both slunk back in their seats. “As for the highest grade in the class,” he started. Hermione straightened her back as the Potions professor fingered through the pile and pulled one out. “Some of you might be surprised to find out that it is not who you assume it is.”

He let the parchment fall before Hermione. The look on the girl’s face was akin to that of a small child whose hamster had just died. In fact, some thought she looked ready to burst into tears. Rose looked from her stunned friend’s face to the test on the table, and she too was more than a little shocked. It was not Hermione’s usual A, but in fact an A–. Rose struggled to comprehend that somehow, Hermione had missed one answer. One answer! Already, she could hear the Ron’s-a-bad-influence jokes in the common room.

She noticed that Snape was still standing over them. “Umm-umm, so you are finally starting to slip, are you Granger?” he said in a low sneer. “Pity…pity, pity. And as for the desperate soul who managed to one-up you, perhaps you should consider taking a little advice from your housemate.” He threw down Rose’s paper. The gasp was caught in her throat as she stared at the large, clear A above her name.

Rose had no idea how to react. She had done something thought impossible, outscored Hermione Granger in a core NEWT class. Honestly, what she really wanted to do was jump on top of the desk and dance like there was no tomorrow. But what good comes from gloating? Still, Rose found it hard to care. She could kiss Malfoy or even Goyle, she was so happy. She glanced around, now unable to stop the giggly smile. On the other side of the room, the aforementioned blonde wizard and his sour-faced girlfriend were glaring at her, the face of anger amongst the mass of confusion.

“Wipe that grin off your face, Beckett,” sneered Snape. “Yes, impressive. Very impressive, indeed. You have come quite a ways in a short amount of time. So if you were trying to prove something to me, you now have my full permission to stop.” When Snape’s back was turned, Rose managed to release some of the bubbling excitement with a little seat dance, bopping her head to some unheard tune. She didn’t really care if she further annoyed her friends and classmates. She also didn’t notice when Snape turned back to the class. “That is quite enough, Miss Beckett! If you are so proud of yourself, then perhaps you can tell the class the key herb in the Anti-Paralysis Potion.”

**~HP~**

Rose carried the test paper in her hand as she and Hermione tried to make their way back up to the ground floor. And much to Hermione’s chagrin, Rose had a hard time with the idea of shutting her mouth. “I cannot believe it! Me? A better grade than you? Bloody hell!”

“Yes, I know,” Hermione sighed, trying to remain collected. Harry and Ron were rolling their eyes across the hall. Rose went on. “I mean, who would have thought that one question would make a difference? I can’t believe that you got that question wrong!”

“I’m only human. I make my mistakes.”

“Yeah, I know, but not in classes. Aye, this is a cool feeling! This must be what it’s like to be you!”

“Alright Rose, please cut it out,” said Hermione. She wished that she didn’t have so many books in her hands, for otherwise, she would wag a finger at her friend. “You’re just bragging now. I’d rather not hear it, thank you very much.”

Rose shook her head with a smile. “Sorry Mione, I don’t mean any harm. But give me something. How many times is this going to happen?”

The boys laughed their agreement as Hermione blushed. “Okay, so you have a point.”

Rose snickered. “Ha, you can be just as proud as me nowadays.”

They were about to follow Ron and Harry up the stairs when they, along with everyone else in the corridor, were stopped with a high shriek. “ _Beckett!!_ ” Both stood still in their tracks and Rose snarled under her breath. They turned to face Pansy Parkinson as she came charging down the hall, Malfoy and Goyle not far behind. The Slytherin came to a halt in front of Rose.

“Yes Pansy?” Rose’s words oozed with sarcasm. She was ready to have her ear raped.

“What the fuck was that?!” Pansy growled at the back of her throat. Her male counterparts stood a safe distance away, and even Hermione took a step back from the action.

“What the fuck was what?”

“That know-it-all act you pulled for Snape. Three weeks ago, you were a mindless twit. Now you’re better than Granger?!”

“I suppose that’s proof that studying is a pretty good thing.” Rose cocked her head to the side. “You should try it sometime.”

“Oh, you shut up!” Pansy snapped. “I don’t know what you did, but I don’t like it. You’re up to something, Beckett.”

Rose laughed, her shrill cackle carrying through the dungeons. “I’m up to something? Parkinson, you slay me! Maybe, just maybe, I got fed up with your precious Head of House calling me good for nothing. Call me mad, but I wanted to prove that greasy git wrong.”

“Don’t you _dare_ call him a greasy git!”

“Too late, I already said it. Besides, just because you say so doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Shove it, Beckett!” Pansy snarled, her finger pointed at Rose’s face. Rose looked beyond the tip to Pansy’s pug face, into her disturbingly fierce eyes. “Hmm, you’re just angry that he didn’t eat me alive in detention. What, did he promise you my bones to chew on?”

Pansy slowly, but tensely folded her finger down into what became a threatening fist. “Shut the hell up.” Her whisper was cold and dangerous. Even Harry, halfway up the steps, shuddered to hear it. Rose turned away. “Get over it, Pansy! We can’t all be in the spotlight.” She tapped Hermione’s arm, urging her to follow her before this could go any further.

“It’s not worth it, you know.”

Rose was drawn back by the Slytherin’s call. So this wasn’t over after all. Hermione tried to grab her shoulder, but she was still weighed down by books. “Come on, Rose. Ignore her,” she said. But Rose stepped back toward Pansy. “What is not worth it, Parkinson?” she sneered.

“Your little act.”

“What, pray tell, are you talking about?”

“You try to put it out there that you’re such a sweet little lady. Everyone thinks you’re such a nice girl, but I know better. You showed all of us in class just what an arrogant bitch you are.”

“Is that the pot calling the kettle black?” Rose asked sarcastically, but Pansy ignored her. “Sooner or later, everyone else will see you for what you really are and you’ll end up the lonely hag you were always destined to be.”

“Is that so? I rather thought that was a more appropriate fate for you, bigoted bint.” Rose came out into the hall, causing nosy bystanders to move out of her way. Pansy turned on her heels to keep her lock on Rose’s face. “It’s a wonder why you even try, half-blood.”

“Blood doesn’t mean anything!”

A small crowd began to gather around the feuding witches. Ron and Harry looked out on the stone battlefield from above. “Is that what you believe?” said Pansy. “Just making up for living with your filthy mother." Rose’s face flushed with anger, not caring if the word Muggle had been left out. It was an insult to her mother all the same. Her hand clenched at her side. This didn’t seem to concern Pansy, who continued in her attempts to rile Rose up. “Imagine what you could be now if Daddy had raised you the way he should have. A decent pure-blood such as him, I’d call you a disappointment.”

“Look Parkinson, this is between you and me,” Rose snarled. “Leave my parents out of this.”

“Oh, you can’t accept the truth, can you? Your mum is a filthy Muggle and nothing can take that away.” Gasps and calls echoed through the area, and Hermione’s jaw hit the floor. Malfoy and Goyle looked quite pleased in the way their alpha-female was taking down the ginger Gryffindor. Pansy went on still, ignoring the trembling in Rose’s chin. “Then there’s Daddy. That’s a wizard worth taking notice! Oh, but where is Daddy – _gasp_ – is he in jail?” Pansy crept closer to the visibly angered Rose. “What a pity! I wonder if he knows if his daughter is a stupid, phony, glory whore!”

_*Slap*_

Pansy spun to the side, one hand on her cheek. Gasps could be heard as Rose lowered her pale hand. Then Pansy’s eyes flared as she straightened up. “You…bitch!” she hissed, half to herself. “You’ll pay for that.” But as she reached for her wand, she heard, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Rose tucked away her own wand as Pansy’s went flying across the hall. Then Rose dropped her books on the floor and threw her arms out, almost welcoming. “Well? I’m waiting. Give me what you’ve got!” Pansy threw down her books with a loud bang and stalked over to Rose.

_*Slap*_

Rose’s face spun to her right, and she squinted her eyes shut at the pain. Already, her cheek was raw and sore. But surprisingly, she didn’t hit Pansy back. “What’s the matter, Beckett? You scared to fight back? Come on, Beckett! Fight back!”

Rose rotated her head back on straight with befuddlement. Was the stupid girl looking for a fight? Maybe this was what she was aiming for all along. And Rose was all too kind to oblige. “Fine!”

_*Slap*_

“You wouldn’t…” Pansy’s dead eyes were wide with shock and force.

“Try me,” said Rose, crossing her arms across her chest. Pansy’s face contorted with anger and hate. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“A lot of things, bitch.”

The two girls used the brief moment of silence to catch their breath. To many, Pansy was searching her mind for some spitting comment to egg her rival on. Right now, Rose was proud and very stubborn, two good traits to have when in a scrap. But there had to be something to get her to fold. Suddenly, a bleak light bulb went off in Pansy’s head, and an idea came to her. She remembered a weakness; a weakness well known and powerful enough to rattle her opponent to the bone. “You scared to fight, Rosie?”

Rose’s cheeks burned at the mention of the name, her blue eyes fiery with fury. “Don’t call me that, Parkinson,” she tried to say calmly, her voiced laced with her anger.

“What is that? You don’t like it?” Pansy sneered at Rose, a wicked grin plastered on her face. “Does it bother you, _Rosie_?”

“Shut up, Pansy!”

“Make me!”

_*Slap*_

This time, Pansy didn’t even wait to react. She swung her fist and hit Rose square in the jaw. Rose was hunched over for a moment, her long hair concealing her face and the hand that held it. She came up and red curtains parted to reveal the stone-cold glare and the spit-covered knuckles. For Rose, that was the last straw. She lunged for Pansy, causing the surrounding students to shout out and close in around them.

**~HP~**

Remus Lupin found himself strolling through the castle’s lowest levels, narrowly dodging his fast-walking, otherwise preoccupied students. The acclaimed werewolf often spent his afternoons enjoying the lively company of his fellow teachers in the staffroom. The only thing that could override that was the demands of his job. That day, he again was seeking out company, but the conversation that would follow was not exactly one he could look forward to, or even desire for that matter. Every time he so much as asked Severus to pass the salt at dinner, the Slytherin’s distain for him was proven more and more. All Remus wanted was to treat Severus with the respect that he so deserved, believing all the way that they had the chance to move past their troubled teenage years. How could he do that when he couldn’t even get a word in edgewise? Seriously, over a month now, and Severus had not shown any signs of softening up. His extended illness made the difficult man impossible. Remus shook his head at the thought, or rather the explanation for it.

He remembered how floored he was the other night, when he got called up to Albus’s office to be informed of Severus’s unique situation. He was not told how the wizard had managed to get up the duff, except that it was the work of a nasty curse. It certainly explained that change he had noticed in the Potions master’s scent, the one that had nothing to do with hygiene. Remus was left with an insatiable need for answers. He however had to settle with the idea that those answers would come over time. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Severus’s health and safety. He felt honored that Albus trusted him to keep the Potions master and his unborn child safe. There was just one problem; Severus could barely stand to be in the same room. The wise headmaster knew this and assured him of mutual cooperation. Now Remus had to figure out a way to make that happen. He surrendered to reality of months of verbal abuse from an emotionally unstable, hormone-drugged Severus. But hey, at least this time he wasn’t the cause of it.

He looked through the open doorway to Severus’s classroom and spied the visibly worn wizard straightening stacks of parchment on his desk. He moved in closer when Severus turned his back to erase the chalk writing on the blackboard. Remus leaned on the arch of the door. He stared at Severus for a moment. He looked terrible now; war-torn, tired, and a bit sick. But Remus tried to visualize what was surely to come. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to watch that frail body grow with life. He had wondered about that before his own son was born, and the fact that Severus was a man couldn’t change that too much. Who knew, maybe pregnancy was what Severus needed to look somewhat healthy for once.

Severus turned back to his desk, but his wandering eyes suddenly locked on Remus. His dark brow tensed and his thin lips melted into the rest of his face. “Hope you don’t mind if I drop in for a moment,” said Remus, an attempt to break thick ice.

“Get out, Lupin,” Severus snarled.

“I know, Severus, I’m the last person you would want to talk to right now. No need to remind me.”

“I don’t want to talk to _anyone_ , much less you. It’s bad enough that I have to stand in front of those cretins all day long when I might as well be talking to a solid wall.”

“Severus –,”

“Lupin, tell me. Do you truly wish for us to be cordial, as you have said one too many times?”

“Of course I do,” said Remus.

“Then you can do us both a favor by leaving me alone for a good long while.” Severus stuffed some essay rolls into a drawer. “I have too much on my mind at the moment.”

“Pardon me Severus, but wouldn’t it make sense to know why I’m here before kicking me out on my arse?” Remus asked with a tweak in his eyebrow. Severus’s lip curled. “For fuck’s sake, you could have at least chosen a better time than right before my last class. You Gryffindors, always thinking of your own conveniences!  Do you honestly believe that I have no idea why you came all the way down here in the middle of the day, what you _wish to talk to me about_?”

Remus, perhaps in wisdom, stepped inside the room and shut the heavy door behind him. This was not a discussion to be overheard. “I suppose you’ve had other well-wishers since Saturday.”

“If you could call three people well-wishers,” said Severus “At least you had the decency to be coy. Pomona and Filius apparently do not know the meaning of the word _smother._ All this nonsense of do this, eat that, stay off your feet. And here I thought that no group of people could be more unbearable than the Second years.”

“They mean well, Severus. I imagine it has been quite a while since a baby was born to a professor here at Hogwarts.” Remus noticed Severus roll his black eyes to the ceiling. “By the way, congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“There is nothing to congratulate, Lupin,” said the disgruntled Potions master. “I was the victim of unchallenged madness, and I am now a monstrous example of my gender. Gripe all you want about how you know what that feels like, it won’t make any difference.”

“I know,” Remus uttered as he approached the desk. “Look Severus, I know that this isn’t easy for you, but hear me out.”

“If you’ve come here to preach, I have already heard quite enough from Albus, Poppy, _and_ Minerva.”

“Did I say I was here to do that? I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” Remus leaned against a front desk “You’re right, I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now. It’s one thing to have gone through the torment and pain that we have, but to find yourself pregnant afterward is beyond me. And yes, I don’t know how that feels. And I’ll be frank, I’m not sure I would want to.”

“Oh that’s a tremendous comfort,” Severus groaned.

“I know, not the best choice of words. Anyway, Albus trusted me to help protect you from whatever’s out there, and I intend to do well on that. But I want you to know that I’m not going to treat you like a porcelain doll.” The werewolf was pleased when Severus seemed to visibly relax. “You certainly don’t need me yammering when you’ve already got three old ladies doing the same. I assure you, I will not force unneeded care and concern onto you. In fact, I’m fully prepared to step in only when it’s absolutely necessary, leaving you alone otherwise. But let me toss this out to you. I’m still here if you need someone to talk to. I don’t care if it’s just to rant about the kids, complain about your body, or vent your frustrations with Albus. I will listen. I can only hope that you will take advantage of my support, because I have a strong feeling that you need it.” Remus took a deep breath in through thin nostrils. “Not for nothing, but you reek of fear.”

Severus sighed; leave it to a lycanthrope to say something like that. He would have spat some defense back at Lupin if the DADA professor had not spoken up first. “Minerva and the others have probably told you that you have nothing to worry about. But really, having a child can be one of the most nerve-wracking things a person can endure. And believe me, I know how that feels.”

“You see Lupin, here is where you and I differ,” said Severus “You might have been just as afraid before you became a parent. But at least you were married when your child was conceived, and at least it was your wife who brought that child into this world. You try to keep your head when you are in my place.”

“I might not have birthed a baby, but I still know what it’s like. When I found out I was going to be a father, I was scared out of my mind.” Remus smirked. “And think about it, I watched Nymphadora through a good deal of her pregnancy. I’m not as clueless as others. As a matter of fact, I think you will much more prefer my company by the time your due date rolls around.”

“What does it take to make you understand that I have no interest in being your friend?”

“I think you might have to kill me for that to happen. Come now Severus, you and I are going to have to be more cooperative for these arrangements to work. After all, I hold your secret in my hands. Maybe you could give me a chance to show you that it’s worthwhile to have me in your circle.”

“And if I say no?” Severus arched a dark brow.

“Then I will follow your every move until the day you go into labour, and make the kids very suspicious.” Remus straightened his face to give his threat a little more meaning. It was a total bluff, and Severus probably knew that. But with his part-time job as young Potter and his lot’s go-to-guy, the risk was there all the same.

“I have said it before, and I shall say it again,” said Severus “You are an insufferable pain in my arse, Lupin.” Remus couldn’t stop the snickering that escaped his mouth. “The same goes to you, Snape. I really hope that child doesn’t take after you.”

Their attention was suddenly drawn away by a loud noise. It was a thunderous mash-up of calls, screams, and stampeding footsteps. Remus raced for the door with Severus not far behind. He pulled open the door to a mad dash of students of all ages and houses. They were all running in the direction of the stairs. Remus tried to call above the crowd, but none seemed interested in stopping to chat. So the professor rather bravely stuck his arm out into the hall and got a handful of a First year Slytherin boy’s robe.

“What is going on out here?” he calmly asked.

“Fight, fight! Catfight!” the little boy shouted excitedly. He took off like a Muggle bullet the minute he was free of Lupin’s grasp. Remus and Severus looked at each other in slight confusion, but then their obligations as professors took over. Both ran out of the classroom, following the echoing voices. They came across a mass grouping students in front of the stairway. They pushed themselves forward, shoving kids to the side if they did not move for themselves. What the two wizards found at the center of this mob was quite a shock, to put it kindly.

Rose Beckett and Pansy Parkinson were down on the dungeon floor, their bodies entangled, yanking on each other’s hair. Pansy was beating the back of Rose’s head like she had clearly done that before. Rose kept throwing defensive punches at her opponent’s face, catching the Slytherin every odd hit. They took turns flipping the other onto the floor, shrieking and swearing the whole time. Snape and Lupin took in the sight of the brawl, astounded by the girls’ violent behavior. Without even thinking, they ran in, Severus grabbing Rose’s arms and Remus doing the same with Pansy. Then, with great force considering the two professors’ natural strength, they yanked the two girls apart. Both fiercely fought back against their restraints.

“Let go of me!” shouted Rose, kicking up her legs.

“Let go! I just had her!” Pansy tried to yank her arms away.

“Girls, girls!” Lupin shouted over the two screaming banshees. “Settle down!”

“No!” Pansy rather boldly snarled. “That bitch is getting what she deserves!”

“Agreed!” Rose growled through gritted teeth.

“Silence, both of you!” Snape growled back, yanking Rose back another foot. “Who started this?”

Both girls pointed to the other and shouted, “She did!”

“She hit me first!” Pansy squealed, looking at Snape like she had just been beaten across the back with a cane. “She threw the first punch!” Rose looked behind the vicious Slytherin at Lupin with wide eyes. Quite obviously, both of the girls were looking to their professors for backup of sorts. Remus huffed, tugging Pansy further away from the feisty Gryffindor.

“Alright, that is quite enough hollering,” he raised his voice up again. Across from him, Severus was looking around at the little crowd of spectators, who were visibly anxious now that the fight was over and professionals had stepped in. Some looked like they were secretly hoping that the two mature wizards would simply let the battle continue with them acting as boxing coaches. Severus snarled. “All of you get out of here! There is nothing more to see!” Many looked reluctant to go, but Snape changed their minds with a fierce stare. They shuffled up the stairs in a thundering herd, and to the girls’ horror, they trapped their respective friends in their mob.

“So Professor, what do you think?” asked Lupin, arching his eyebrow at Snape. “I believe that fighting counts as something the Heads of House usually handle. You’re right here to handle Miss Parkinson here, but I think Minerva’s all tied up. I think it would be unwise to bother her now.”

Rose twisted her arms in an attempt to turn and face Snape. “Oh no Professor, don’t you dare go easy on that bitch and throw me to the dogs. You’ll let her go, and I’ll be in detention for a month!” She tried to wrench herself away, almost aiming her elbow at Snape’s torso. Remus felt a spike of panic rush to his head; what would he do if the angry teen managed to hurt Severus or the baby?

“Miss Beckett,” said Snape, avoiding her offensive jerks. “I thought that after the last time, you would understand. You have no right to tell me what to do.” His dark eyes travelled back up to Lupin. His stern faced seemed to say that he was quite sure of himself. “We shall take them to the headmaster.”

“What?!” The Gryffindor and the Slytherin squealed in a way uncharacteristic for both. “You couldn’t do that,” Pansy stuttered. “You can’t do that!”

“Actually ladies, Professor Snape is right,” said Lupin as the two of them started down the hall, their hands still firmly secured around thin arms. “If the Head of House is unavailable to make a decision concerning punishment, an option is to hand that task to the headmaster. Besides, in your case, it would probably be fairer for you two. Less bias that way.” The werewolf ignored the quiet snarl form the greasy-haired wizard. “I hope you both realize that this is not something to be taken lightly. Fighting will not be tolerated in any way, shape, or form.”

“We’re not going to be expelled for this, are we Professor Lupin?”

“Of course not, Miss Beckett,” he chuckled. “Neither of you were using your wands, and both of you appear to be relatively unharmed. However, I would expect my evenings to be booked up if I were you.”

“But what if I said that my head hurts really badly or if – oh for Merlin’s sake, Professor Snape! Could you let up a little?!”

Snape just ignored her with a wicked sneer. “You know, Beckett? It’s an attitude like that that keeps getting you into trouble. Will you ever learn to just shut it?”

“I will when she does.” Rose glared at Pansy. Her angry rival gnashed her teeth like a mad dog. “You are asking for it, Beckett!”

“Silence, Miss Parkinson,” Snape droned. “Further threats will only earn you a deeper grave.”

**~HP~**

Remus was the one who knocked on Dumbledore’s office door. It swung open on its own accord to show that they were welcome. Dumbledore turned from the thick book he had been reading to the door in time to watch Severus and Remus calmly stride in, tightly hanging onto Rosella Beckett and Pansy Parkinson respectively. He raised his bushy eyebrows at the presence of the two Seventh year girls. “My my, Professors, this is certainly unexpected,” he said as he stuck a metal placeholder in the page and closed the book. “What can I do for you and these lovely young ladies?”

“Well sir, we have a situation with these _lovely young ladies,_ ” said Severus, tasting bile at the mention of those last words.

Dumbledore conjured up two sturdy chairs for the girls to sit in front of his desk. As they settled down, avoiding eye contact with just about anyone, Severus and Remus changed places so that Severus stood behind his pupil and Remus looked over Rose. Dumbledore was a bit amused by this subtle gesture of house loyalty. “So tell me men, what seems to be the trouble here?”

Remus spoke. “Professor Snape and I were having a chat in his classroom when we heard quite a bit of ruckus coming from outside. We both rushed out and we found Miss Beckett and Miss Parkinson fighting.”

“I’m merely guessing that this was more than a row?” inquired the headmaster.

“Oh, definitely sir!”

“They were not dueling, were they?”

“No Headmaster,” Severus corrected. “They were actually fighting, as in hitting each other as hard as they could and ripping each other’s hair out.” That mention made Rose rub the back of her head and inspect her fingers for blood. The Potions professor noticed this and smirked. “Funny, for two girls named after flowers, they certainly aren’t very gentle.”

“Ah, so we have ourselves a little catfight, have we?” Dumbledore smirked, entertained by the idea. It wasn’t very often that word of female physical violence got back to him. “Exactly,” said Severus, and then Dumbledore turned his attention to the students. “Well ladies, is this true?” He received a slow, reluctant nod from at least one of them. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“She started it,” Pansy bit out, jabbing a finger at Rose. “She came at me in the hall and she hit me!”

“I would not have slapped her if she had not insisted on insulting me into the ground first,” said Rose through a tight jaw. “And besides, _she_ was the one who punched _me_ in the face.”

“That’s a bloody lie! She nearly knocked out my front teeth!”

Rose sharply turned her head to Pansy. “Oh yeah? Well you almost took one of my molars on the floor!”

“Ladies, please settle down,” Dumbledore raised his voice. “Let me make this clear, who hit the other first?” The girls pointed at each other, their faces stone set in mutual hatred. The elderly headmaster sighed as he shook his head. “So what the two of you mean to say is that you _both_ started this scrap?” Parkinson was about to respond with a terse nod, but stopped short when she processed the statement. She folded her arms across her chest, forcing herself further into the chair. Beckett was doing the same thing, though she was leaning her body as far from the Slytherin girl as she could without falling off her behind.

“Can one of you tell me about the dispute that caused this?” asked Dumbledore, seeking a clearer picture. But the girls seemed to be done talking. They stared off into space, quite happy to be ignoring each other. The old man looked up at the younger professors. “Did either of you see much of what happened?”

“We didn’t hear anything before we showed up to pull them apart,” said Remus, shaking his head.

“However,” Severus jumped in. “Miss Parkinson did say something along the lines of _“the bitch was getting what she deserved.”_ And Miss Beckett here was no better. If that is what they said after the fact, I cannot imagine the colorful language that spurred them on.” He chose not to notice the look of utter betrayal from Pansy as she twisted her head to his angle. Rose rolled her eyes in mild disgust.

Dumbledore thought for a moment, taking in the sight of the girls. They certainly looked like they had been at each other; dust covered their faces and clothes, and bruises were beginning to form under thin layers of skin. They looked roughed up, but they did not look hurt. Though it wasn’t immediately clear how they came to end up in front of his desk, it was plain to see that they both were very much responsible. And so, they both had to pay the piper.

“Well ladies, as I’m sure both of you already know, fighting is not tolerated in the slightest at Hogwarts. And therefore, forty points will be taken from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. In addition, though we cannot reach an agreement as to who started this dispute, both of you will receive two weeks’ detention.” Dumbledore allowed a moment of muffled moaning and grumbling.

“But Professor Dumbledore, I just finished three weeks of detention!” Rose complained with a groan.

“Well, Miss Beckett, you should have thought of that before you got involved.” Dumbledore looked up at Snape and Lupin. He really did not want to stick Severus with more unneeded work, but sometimes you had to take opportunity when it presented itself to you. “Professors, are you both available for a few days?”

“More than available,” said Severus, glancing down at the scowling Gryffindor. Remus also nodded. “I’ve got more than enough time, sir.”

The headmaster clapped his hands together. “Alright then! And just to avoid any bias – don’t either of you deny it, I know you too well – Miss Parkinson, you will go with Professor Lupin, and Miss Beckett, you shall go with Professor Snape.” The girls looked over their shoulders at their preferred professor, and then across to their assigned professor. Both Snape and Lupin looked at the product of their respective houses with silent apologies. Dumbledore spoke again. “This order is effective tonight at seven thirty, and as for you Miss Beckett, Professor McGonagall will be informed as soon as possible. I hope you two learn a valuable lesson about senseless violence. Be kind to an old man; don’t let me see you in front of this desk again.”

Rose and Pansy took this as their cue to leave, and they rose from their chairs. Lupin opened the door and beckoned for one of the girls to come forward. Pansy seized the chance and bolted from the room, her footsteps echoing all the way down the steps. Rose gave her enemy a good, long minute to vacate the stairs and the surrounding area before she too followed. Remus shut the old door behind her, the hinges creaking.

“Merlin, what has become of today’s youth?” he said, breathlessly.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Please, those two have been going at it since day one. It was only a matter of time before one of them lost their marbles.”

“Yes, I think it would be prudent to consult with Minerva about a way to keep those two apart for a while,” said Albus.  He looked to Severus, who hadn’t moved from where he stood. The younger wizard pulled the length of his black robes around his body. Albus thought this subtle gesture to be quite disconcerting; already Severus was feeling self-conscious about being pregnant and in the open. “I really hate to do that to you, my boy. I don’t want to put any stress on you. Are you sure you want to take the girl? If not, I’m sure Minerva would be more than happy to –,”

“Let me make something very clear, Albus,” said Severus. “Regardless of what is happening to me personally, I am an educator first. I will not be told what or what not to do with my work, especially in moments like this. Do you honestly believe that I will let my condition stop me from giving one of those brats what she deserves?”

“Severus,” said Remus, walking over to sit in one of the abandoned chairs. “Don’t you think that they’re a little old to be called brats?”

“I will stop calling them that when they behave their age,” Severus sneered.

“Indeed,” said Albus. “Forgive me, Severus. I just thought that after what happened last month, you would like a break from Miss Beckett. After all, did you not just let her go from her last set of detentions, say, three days ago?”

“Trust me Albus, I don’t mind,” Severus assured the elderly wizard. “That redheaded lioness is actually quite useful. Haven’t you seen my classroom recently?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to any British readers out there. I know now that your education system doesn't have letter grades involved, and I don't mean to impugn anyone. But the truth is that I didn't know that when I first wrote this. I call it collateral damage due to J.K. Rowling's American editors.


	14. Rosella

That night, Severus waited for Beckett with the utmost patience. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he was rather pleased to have her under his control once again. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with two more weeks of extra work, but her skill, not to mention her endurance, were probably going to come in handy over the next few days. And though he would deny it to the ends of the earth, their more recent talks brought a sense of calm to the room. In fact, it sometimes just barely felt like he was overseeing a punishment. Severus was reminded time and time again why it was easier to discipline the older students. Albus expected that Beckett’s presence would cause him stress, but Severus only saw the convenience.

Rose entered the Potions room at exactly seven thirty, looking quite content with herself, as though she had long surrendered to her fate. She looked at Snape with a soft, relaxed nod. “Hello again, Professor,” she politely said, pulling her wand from the folds of her robe. Rose held the handle out to Snape. “I know the routine. Here’s my wand. What do you want me to do?”

Snape gently gripped the dark wood and then not so gently locked it away. He smirked when he noticed that Rose didn’t even flinch at her wand’s abuse. “Well, well, Miss Beckett. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were happy to be here.”

Rose chuckled lightly. “Am I happy? No. Am I devastated? No. Let’s just get this over with. I’ve got a Charms quiz to study for.”

“If you insist,” said Snape. “Grab the bucket and fill it up. You are scrubbing the desks again.”

“Yes sir.” Rose glided over to the corner where her trusty bucket lay and carried over to the sink. And before Snape knew it, her hair was tied back and she was trying to scrub a dried patch of liquid off of nearby desk.

Quickly, the professor and his student settled back into their quiet evening regime. Rose took her time in doing her job to ensure good quality, while Snape watched on from behind his desk. Already, the Potions master was beginning to feel the weight of the day, the reality of his pregnancy shoving itself into the forefront of his thoughts…again. Severus could not believe that he managed to effectively teach when that was all he could think about. When he wasn’t lost in his own horrific visions, he was crawling in his skin, though that may have been due to the invasive examination he had endured the day before.  Aside from his recent malnutrition, Poppy had told him that he and the baby appeared to be in good health. But that did not stop her from explaining a very long list of guidelines and warnings that he should adhere to from now on, unaware of the loss of sleep and alertness it would cause. Severus knew that she was only doing her job, but it must have occurred to her that this was too much for him to swallow. She could have at least given him a week to let this pregnancy fully sink in before telling him about cutting back on his work levels, a new strict diet, and the lovely symptoms that had yet to cause him trouble. His head was spinning, though he would be damned if he let anyone see. Here’s to hoping that Beckett wouldn’t notice anything off, if she hadn’t already.

He watched the young Gryffindor to keep himself occupied. He watched her work with incredible speed, yet still manage to produce pristine desktops. More specifically, he watched her face. That pale, freckled face held an odd expression; it was not of a trapped victim, nor a disgruntled servant. It was devoid of the negative attitude that he thought should be there, and she looked simply like she was quietly obeying orders. She did not look like someone who regretted her actions, not how a kid should look when being punished. She never ceased to amaze him, he thought yet again. Poppy would probably have a thing or two to say about him staying up late to monitor detentions, but when it came to the young person in question, at least Severus had the luxury of being stuck with one of Gryffindor’s more mild-mannered young ladies.

Well, relatively mild-mannered anyway.

“I’m sure you know that I have to ask,” he said, this time choosing to take the initiative in starting a mild conversation. If he got her talking, then perhaps she could help take his mind off of his condition for a while.

“About what happened?” Rose turned to him, her hand dunked into the soapy water. “Yeah, I guessed that much.”

“Look, I know that you and Parkinson have not had the most peaceful of relationships, but the most that I ever had to do was break up a screaming match before a class, dock a few points.”

“From me,” said the Gryffindor, cocking her light eyebrow. Snape rolled his eyes up. “Not relevant at the moment, Beckett. What in the world happened for it to finally come to blows?”

“You knew that we would end up in a fight?”

“I said to Professor Dumbledore that it was bound to happen,” said Snape. “I know Parkinson too well, and I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s wanted to do that for quite a while.”

“Oh really, Professor? And I suppose that you were going to let it happen?” Rose annoyingly tapped a dainty fingernail on the desktop. Snape rolled dark eyes to the ceiling. “There isn’t really much I could do to stop her from taking a swing at you, or you at her,” he said. “But notice how you have not answered my question. What happened this afternoon?”

“There isn’t much to tell,” said Rose, trying to work out a particularly stubborn stain. “Parkinson cornered me by the stairs, she started taunting me, insulting me, and before I knew it, I had a face full of dirt and a handful of black hair.” She hauled the bucket to the next table, but Snape had a nagging feeling that that was not the whole truth. Rose was withholding something, but it was just beyond the wizard’s comprehension.  

“Miss Beckett,” he said slowly, and attentive eyes shifted to him. “Did you hit Parkinson first?” He figured that now that she was separated from Parkinson, he might be able to get a much clearer idea of what happened. It had to be better than Parkinson’s accusations of being thrown up against the wall with no rhyme or reason, and viciously beaten with only jealousy to blame.

Rose was quiet for a moment, no doubt weighing out her options in her head. But she sighed and leaned against the desk. “Yes, I slapped her across the face. That much she was honest about. But I only did it because she insulted my fa – my friends.”

Snape nodded, catching the hesitation in her words. “Was that was spurred you on into mortal combat?”

“No…” Rose shook her head, turning her attention back to the wet brush in her hand. “It was something else she said.”

“And what might that be?” asked a curious Snape. Parkinson failed to mention that, making it out like Beckett had done all the screaming.

“She…she just called me a name.”

“What did she call you?”

Rose flushed a light pink, looking rather uncomfortable in her own skin. “Do you promise not to laugh?” Her voice was unusually small.

“Very well Miss Beckett, though I’m sure it’s not that terrible.”

“Alright,” said Rose as she dropped the brush into the bucket. “She called me…she called me Rosie.” Snape had to fight to stifle the laugher that tickled his throat. His face fell to the floor and his hand covered his mouth. And when he looked back up to Rose, he found that he was staring into the eyes of a beaten puppy. “Professor, you promised you wouldn’t laugh at me,” she said, suppressing a whine.

“Pardon me, Beckett,” Snape half-apologized. “I have been teaching for a very long time, and never have I had to pull apart two brawling students because one called the other the wrong variant of their name.”

“But Professor Snape, I really hate it when people call me that.”

“Obviously!” Snape raised black eyebrows.

“I mean it,” Rose persisted. “I’ve always hated being called that.”

“It’s beyond me why,” said the Potions master, scratching his scalp beneath oily hair. “It’s a perfectly normal name. I have seen a number of ‘Rosie’s come through this room over the years. It is not like people are calling you something truly awful.”

“They might as well be,” said Rose. The arch in her professors left brow told her she had more explaining to do. “I have my reasons; I just prefer not to be called that. I’d take my given name over Rosie.”

“What’s wrong with your given name?”

“Please, Rosella? It’s awful, so bloody pretentious! And nobody calls me Rosella anyway, not even my own family. Professor, I didn’t even know that _was_ my real name until I was six years old.”

“I don’t see much wrong with it,” said Snape, his face relaxed. “It’s an old name.”

“I wouldn’t expect any different from a man named Severus,” Rose said with a smirk. “Yeah, it’s old, but it’s too old in my opinion. And it’s a mouthful for most people. You ought to hear people from Yorkshire say my full name.”

“Watch it, Beckett. I’m from Yorkshire.”

“You are? Oh sorry, you really don’t sound it.” Rose blushed again, busying herself at the last remaining table. “Yeah anyway, you see it’s just easier to go by something else.”

“But why such disdain for Rosie?” asked Snape, leaning on his desktop.

“I just don’t like it.” Rose carried the bucket to the sink and dumped out the dirty water into the basin. She set it down on the stone floor before grabbing a rag to dry off the desks.

“Miss Beckett, no one hates their name enough to physically assault someone else.” Rose looked at Snape, visibly unsure as to go on further. The older wizard urged her along. “You’ve done a fine job at keeping your mouth shut these last few weeks. Seems fitting that I do the same for you.”

Rose’s gaze bounced from wall to wall, questioning if this was really Snape saying that. She got over herself quickly and said, “This won’t leave the room?” Snape shook his head in response. Then Rose let out a little, light sigh. “It was what my dad used to call me, alright?”

Realization hit Snape like a dart hits a bull’s-eye. That certainly made a lot of sense. He chose his next words carefully; it was always treading into dangerous territory when dealing with a strained relationship with a known felon, a felon that he knew a bit too well. “Oh, I see,” he said, nodding his understanding.

“It’s funny really,” Rose continued. “He’s the one who stuck me with such a high-strung name, and yet he hasn’t used it since the day I was born.”

“That does sound like Alistair.” Snape’s eyes wandered away. “Understand, Miss Beckett. Your father always did have his troubles sticking with any one plan of his. He couldn’t commit to anything when he was at school.”

“Trust me sir, no one knows that better than I do,” said Rose. She tried to stay focused on her work, which to her displeasure was winding down. “If he could commit to anything, he wouldn’t have left my mother. But I’m not going to bother you with useless frustration, don’t fret.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” said Snape with a trace of sarcasm. “But as I said, I have been doing this a very long time. I know how your kind are liable to implode if they don’t get their chance to tell their sad little tales.”

“It’s nothing that I haven’t said before.”

Severus didn’t give the girl a chance to shake off the conversation. When he asked her those questions, Rose had the right not to respond. She could have been her usual stubborn, Gryffindor self and stood her ground about keeping her private affairs private. But she did not. So as it was, she got herself there, so she had to deal with the consequences. And besides, if he hadn’t changed much since their school days, Alistair Beckett was probably a wizard worth ranting over.

“You said that he used to call you Rosie. I take it that he doesn’t anymore?”

Rose shook her head, her gaze turned inward. “No,” she said softly. “He stopped a long time ago.”

“But it still makes you angry. Why is that?”

“Why do you want to know? You don’t care.” Rose seemed to buff the desk surfaces a little harder after she said that. She also turned her back to her professor, who rested his chin in his hand. “Because you tried to understand my recent anger towards you and the other students. I hate to say it, but I believe I owe that to you.”

Rose turned back and was taken aback by Snape’s calm expression. In that moment, he was not the sinister wizard they all had grown up despising. He was a man who was willing to listen. Rose wondered to herself if this was a side of Snape that usually only the Slytherins saw. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“If I ever have to yank you out of another skirmish, it would help to have an idea why.”

Rose tossed aside her damp rag and approached Snape’s desk. She sat down on one of the closer stools and leaned her arms on the spotless table. “You want to know, well here it is. Like I said, my dad hasn’t called me Rosie in years, but I know he did at one time. My mum says it’s a miracle that I even remember because I was really young, no older than two. It’s a pretty fuzzy memory, but it’s still there. It’s my dad, standing over me, talking to me. I can’t quite make out what he’s saying, except my name…and back then it was Rosie. I think that was the most peace that was ever between us. But with the way he’s been since he and my mum spilt up, you can guess why I don’t like thinking back on that.”

Severus listened with a wrinkled brow. He was surprised to realize that he felt the slightest pang of sympathy for Rose. His hormones must really be messing with his mind. He had known about Alistair’s mysterious broken marriage, and Rose Beckett was never more than a product of that. But it wasn’t until that night that he thought about the lasting effect of his old housemate’s mistakes. This girl was obviously a bit more troubled than she made herself out to be. Maybe it was self-preservation, maybe she was protecting her ego. But right there, the Gryffindor suddenly seemed a little more human to him. And the fact that she felt comfortable enough to tell him this, Severus was at a loss for words. Was he losing his mind? Was Beckett?

“Well, I am sorry that you feel that way.” It was the only thing that Severus could come up with in the face of this young woman’s openness. It did not seem appropriate to try and come up with some sort of snappy comeback, not when she had willingly let that go. And to be frank, he preferred this calmer Rose Beckett. He did not want to take his chances and wind up with the screaming banshee he had seen that afternoon. Rose nodded with a weak smile before standing up and whirling around to finish her work.

They didn’t talk again until Rose brought the rag back over to the corner and set it down, folded, beside the sink. She turned to the Potions master. “Well sir, what do you think?” She motioned to the clean desks.

“A fine job, once again,” said Snape. Rose smiled with a good nod, a quick little burst of pride shooting through her spirit. While this did not go unnoticed, Snape was not pestered by it too much. At least this time his did not taste bile at the sight of that smug face. Yes, he definitely preferred this Beckett!

“Anything else you wanted me to do tonight?”

Severus thought to himself for a moment. It was still a bit earlier than he would prefer, and Seventh year curfew was not until eleven. But his pure fatigue spoke for itself. He suppressed the urge to groan. There were ways to ease his morning sickness, but he couldn’t avoid being so tired at the end of the night. “No, no, that’s quite enough,” he said. “I think I shall do us both a favor and call it a night.” He opened his drawer and took hold of Rose’s wand. He then held it out for her to take. “Be warned, however, because I have plenty of work for you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” said Rose, rolling her eyes. “Same time?”

“Not unless I say different.” Snape rose from his chair and started around the desk. “Now go. Goodnight Miss Beckett.”

“Goodnight,” said Rose as she turned for the door. But she slowed to a stop just before she reached the handle. “Oh, and Professor?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks…for listening, I mean.” She gave him a small, appreciative smile. Then the door opened and she was gone. Severus was left feeling a bit odd, perhaps he was pleasantly surprised. Some voice in the back of his mind was telling him that this new stint of detentions was not going to be a burden.


	15. Sad-sack Malfoy

Severus stumbled out of the tiny bathroom connected to his office. Adjusting to the idea of being pregnant was maddening enough. But at least when he thought he was ill, there was the hope that the nausea would eventually go away. Now he had to surrender to loo worship for several more weeks, possibly months. Again, he ran down his very long list of wrongs to figure out what earned him such terrible morning sickness. This had to be someone’s revenge; that mongrel Black was somewhere off in the beyond dying all over again with uproarious laughter.

His stomach churned again and Severus reached for a dose of his trusty Anti-nausea Potion. He downed the whole bottle with one tip of his head. He knew that he should not be using this potion every day; though it was not toxic in large amounts, it wasn’t exactly the best of ideas while he was with child. Poppy had told him to only use it when absolutely necessary, and the nauseous wizard considered a sudden onset of illness in the middle of his morning class to be the best time to go searching for those little bottles. Pomona promised him the herbs for a safer, pregnancy-friendly version of the potion. Well, for the sake of that undergrowth she called plant-life, she had better be on it. To himself, Severus was daring the woman to prove her commitment to this whole brouhaha by growing those herbs in three days flat.

A knock at his office door startled the Potions master. Dropping the empty bottle into his robe pocket, Severus edged over to his waiting desk chair. “Who is it?” he called. “What do you want?”

“It’s Draco Malfoy, sir. Do you have a moment?”

Severus was a bit surprised at the meek voice echoing into his office through thick wood. Draco had been anything but himself in recent months. Up until recently, his godson had only just surpassed being considered a recluse. He had shut himself up in his family’s estate for nearly the entire summer, one of the lucky few to escape the media madness in the wake of the Dark Lord’s downfall. Evidently, being all but forced to return to Hogwarts was of no help to the lad. Severus had heard the Gryffindors calling Draco things like glum and sad-sack, and for once in his life, Severus had to agree with them.

“Yes, come in!” he shouted weakly as he fell back into his chair. The door creaked open and Draco slowly crept in. He used his heel to slam the door behind him. “Hello Professor,” he said on a sigh.

“You know, Draco, you don’t have to pretend to be proper.” Severus said this as he gestured toward the empty seat before his desk. Draco had always been allowed to call him by his given name in private company, and that certainly had not changed.

“I’m sorry, sir – er – Severus.” Draco let his schoolbag drop down to the floor with a good _thud._ He fell just as heavily into the dark chair.

“So what are you doing here?” asked Severus.

“Just thought I’d stop by for a talk.” Draco twiddled his fingers as he spoke.

“It’s nothing of importance, is it?”

“No, no,” said Draco, shaking his head. “Just a chat. By any chance, have you still got some of that sherry you used to keep in here?”

“You know that as your professor, it would be unwise of me to give you alcohol,” said Severus. “And so early in the day too.”

“Yes, but that was before I was of age.” Draco cocked a pale eyebrow. “Please Severus, I could really use it. No one’s got anything in the common room.” The boy was polite, but Severus could smell a hint of desperate desire underneath. He did not want to watch Draco become an alcoholic, much less aid in it, and he vaguely wondered how much enabling Narcissa had done recently. But still, he felt some a scrap of sympathy, allowing himself leniency for his favorite student.

“Alright, but just this once.” Severus produced a glass and reached down into the drawer. He tried not to regret a thing he was doing as he poured out the warm liquor. How he wanted a glass himself, forbidden from having so much as a taste. He really should not have told Poppy about those drinks he had before he knew about the baby.

Draco gulped down his first few swigs. Severus watched in concern; that boy had better not turn to self-medication every time his day looked a little bleak. “You were slow to approach me this term,” he said.

“I thought that after this past year, you would like your space.”

“Finally, one person who sees the sense in that,” Severus shrugged. “But waiting until October to come have a chat seems a bit extreme.”

“Well pardon me for thinking of you,” Draco coughed out, a weak display of offense. Severus could have made some accusation of Draco only sparing a care for himself, but left it alone. The young Malfoy often only cared for himself on a good day, let alone in a fit of woe.

“Was there anything in particular that you wanted to talk about?”

“Actually, yeah there was,” said Draco, sipping his sherry. “How have you been treating Beckett in her detentions?”

“Hmm, odd of you to care about another student’s punishment. Why do you ask?”

“She’s been far too perky since the other day.” Draco shrugged with a wrinkled brow. “Everyone knows she was in a fight, and she’s got detention with you again. But you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. She acts like nothing happened!”

Severus thought about it for a moment. “Parkinson put you up to this, didn’t she?”

Pink crept into pale cheeks as Draco shifted his gray eyes. “She might have…”

“What did she say, Draco?”

“She told me to tell you that you should be harsher on Beckett, because she doesn’t think the bitch has it so bad.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” Severus narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to say that you and Parkinson doubt my ability to effectively discipline a student?”

“I don’t doubt you, sir! Those are Pansy’s words, not mine. But you can’t exactly blame her. She’s miserable with Lupin, and Beckett just goes about her day without a care.”

Severus smirked, leaning on the top of his desk. “Perhaps that is because Beckett is a stubborn Gryffindor who hangs around with Potter and his pride of merry lions. To be honest, I would not expect much less from her.”

“Well, do you think that you could at least do something to drag her down a little?” asked Draco. “Appease Pansy?” Severus rolled his eyes. No wonder Beckett always seemed to have trouble with Parkinson; that girl was downright selfish! She was sending her boyfriend to ask her Head of House to sacrifice his time to spoil her foe’s fun. Apparently, the Slytherin girl had failed to notice his poor stamina as the Gryffindor had.

“What does Lupin have her do?”

“He makes her write lines, a hundred and fifty times a night.”

_‘Fair enough! Parkinson is much more concerned with how her penmanship looks than for what she’s actually writing. It could take her hours!’_ Severus leaned back into his chair, running his fingers down the curve of the sherry bottle. “Please, Beckett has to do far more than that as it is now! So you can go back to your girlfriend and assure her that her _sworn enemy_ is not getting off easy.” He tipped the bottle to the side, eying the sloshing liquid inside. His longing was diverted by a thankfully gentle wave of nausea.

“Thank Merlin,” Draco sighed. “I’m getting tired of the whining about carpal tunnel or whatever she said.”

“How is that going? Your relationship, I mean.”

Draco tipped back the last swig of his liquor. “It’s alright, I guess. I mean, the snogging is still good, it always was. But other than that, there isn’t too much. Also…Pansy’s gotten a bit clingy lately.”

“This is a bad thing?” Severus asked with a wrinkled black brow.

“Well, I don’t mind it that much. But she wants to be with me all the time now. She won’t leave me and Gregory alone. You know that there are times when guys need to get away from their women.”

“I do,” said Severus, ignoring the fact that he never really had a woman to get away from. Draco continued. “But see, I don’t think Pansy understands that. And she kept wanting to come out to the Manor over the summer. I didn’t really want to be around anyone, and a girlfriend was the last thing I needed on my mind.”

“It sounds to me that you are not happy with this girl.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s not that I don’t feel anything for her, because I do. She’s been through a lot with me, you know? She was one of the few who bothered to stick by me. I mean look what happened last year. I go back on the Dark Lord’s cause, and she takes me back.”

Severus was slow to respond, studying Draco’s face and tone. “You still don’t sound too sure of yourself.”

“You see my dilemma.” Draco sunk into the chair, as though to wait for the booze to pump through his body. This was just pathetic, Severus thought. Draco was confused and stuck at a crossroad, and he did not look like he was going to do a thing about it. He was not just depressed, he was giving up. What happened to the domineering young lad that he had looked after since a boy?  “What can I say, Draco?” he said. “It’s obvious that you aren’t satisfied, and I don’t think you are in love with Pansy.”

“I never said I didn’t love her,” Draco objected, sitting up in his seat. But Severus shut him up with a swift swipe of the hand. “Trust me; if you were so sure of that, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. There are times when you are allowed to put your own needs first.”

Draco sighed. “I don’t know, Severus. I’m not cutting her loose yet. I guess I’ll just give it a little more time, see if it’s worth it.”

“She’s clingy and she talks too much, but it’s worth a shot.” Severus pushed down the impulse of laughing at such an idea.

“Yeah,” said Draco. “I probably won’t get a date otherwise, so what the hell?”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“You’ve seen the way they all look at me.” The young Slytherin’s face twisted in his disgust. “Even girls in our house have been talking. Obviously, former Death Eater doesn’t have the same ring to it these days. Merlin forbid I roll up my sleeve.”

“Well what did you expect?” Severus snapped before he could think. Draco drew back, caught off his guard. “Life isn’t all roses, in case it’s missed you. I know what you are going through now, and I know it’s dreadful. But you can’t run from it forever.”

“I’m not running from anything,” said Draco, a snarl forced down into his throat. He gripped the arm of his chair.

“Oh really? Then what do you call holing up in a very big house for three months, coming out of your room only for your parents and a few house elves?” Severus’s deep eyes bored into Draco, all too eager for an answer to that one.

“I’m sure that it was a better idea than parading through the streets, ignoring the attempts to spit at my face.” Severus tried to cock his head to the side, but Draco shot up to his feet, shaking a hand. “No, I mean it. I read the editorials. They were calling me a spineless coward. At least they left you alone!”

“They only left me alone because Dumbledore demanded it,” said Severus. “And I hate to tell you this, but they had a point. It could be seen as rather cowardly to try and hide from what’s happened.”

“Look Severus,” Draco began to pace in front of his teacher’s desk. “I made some stupid mistakes, thought some stupid things. It took one madman to make me see that I was no more important than the scum I grew up loathing. My world came crashing down and everyone else is so kind to remind me! I’m sorry, but I can barely comprehend how I could function in the world, forget about this school. Sometimes I wonder why I ever bothered to come back, I don’t need it.”

“You made the right decision, Draco.” The concern weighing down Severus’s mind finally found its way into his voice. “You could at least act like this castle is better than Azkaban. You don’t know how lucky you really are that no one thought to lock you up.”

“I’ve heard quite enough of that,” said Draco. Severus shook his head. “From your father, no doubt.”

“I wish, he was barely around long enough to give the time,” the lad sneered. “Whenever he wasn’t out boozing, he hardly had a thing to say.” Draco reached for the sherry, but Severus quickly snatched up the bottle and brought it to his chest. He returned it to the drawer. “I worry about you, Draco,” Severus said, casting a quick charm to protect his aging alcohol. “You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a nephew. It was terrible to read your mother’s recent letters, and you’ve done nothing to ease me since the start of term.” He noticed that Draco was still eying the closed drawer. “Do not follow your father’s example! Alcohol won’t take anything away. If anything, think of what your mother would say if she knew that her only son was attempting to drink away his troubles.”

“Can’t you see that I’m doing all I can do?” Draco stared down his nose, much like the way Severus had done to too many before. “And besides, I’m more concerned about you than I could ever be for myself. What they’ve been saying about you, is it true? Have you been ill?”

_‘Damn it, him too?’_ Severus shook the thought off. Of course Draco would have noticed his failing health and odd behavior. But even if Severus looked at the young man like family, he too was counted among the vast numbers of untrustworthy children. And Draco he considered to be one of those students most likely to be sent into a mental breakdown by the mere phrase of _guess-what-I’m-pregnant._ “That’s none of your concern, Draco. But don’t make this about me. You came here to talk, to me that was a cry for help. Don’t wall yourself up again. Tell me, what’s convinced you that you’ve got nowhere to go but down?”

“I don’t know how to live in Saint Potter’s world, and I’m stuck in a one-note relationship. What more can I do than maintain?”

“You could think about where you will end up one day,” said Severus. “Sure, your idea for a perfect world did not turn out as you had hoped. But life does not end at eighteen. Do you think I was overjoyed to come back this soon? Absolutely not! With my reputation, it would have been prudent to spare the public my presence.”

“Well then why are you here?” asked Draco, just hanging onto the last of his manners.

“Because whether I like it or not, my life is my work. That old fool of a headmaster put me back in my place because he thought it was the best thing for me. Such was the same with all of you. You are young; your place is at school. And you are young enough that your part in the Dark Lord’s war can eventually be overlooked.”

“Tell that to those blown-up berks and gossip-drunk bitches.”

“I can’t ruin everyone’s day,” said Severus, leaning back in his chair. “Would you settle for Beckett scraping chewing gum off the underside of desks with her bare hands?”

“Only if she’s allowed to use only her fingernails.”

Severus smirked at that idea. That girl certainly would not appreciate that; let’s see how long she can keep her cool under Goyle’s desk. “I’ll send her your love.”

“Pansy’s as well,” Draco added. “It’s a bit hard to terrorize a girl when you aren’t allowed anywhere near her outside class.”

Severus looked up at the clock. “Speaking of which, you had best be off. You wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, would you?”

Draco sighed as he too noticed the time. He reached down for his schoolbag and turned toward the door. “I do appreciate your time, Severus. Hey, don’t let anyone else have that sherry. That’s some good stuff.” Oh, Severus could guarantee that! But he didn’t exactly see the boy’s name on the bottle either. If Severus couldn’t drink it, then neither could Draco.

He was about to start preparing for his next class. But not two minutes after the door swung closed behind Draco, a sharp _pop_ nearly made Severus jump out of too-pale skin. Seeing nothing around him, he leaned over his desk and looked down. A puny house-elf stood there with a plate of toast, smeared with apple butter, and one whole mackintosh.

“Professor Dumbledore wishes for Professor Snape to be eating more. He sent Bipsy to bring Professor Snape a second breakfast.”

**~HP~**

_Dear Rose,_

_I sincerely apologize that it took me so long to respond to your last letter. It has been quite a frenzy at work recently. For such a small village, Meadow Hill sure can keep a person busy. Congratulations on your spot on this team of yours. I don’t really know how this game works, but if it’s anything like football, I’m sure it must be a great deal of fun. I know that if you ever do get a chance to play, you will be wonderful. I regret that I won’t be there when that happens, though I don’t know how I feel about you flying around on a broom. Way too risky if you ask me._

_On another note, I do hope you have thought about what you said to your teacher some time ago. As I said in my last letter, I was truly disappointed by your behavior. That is not how a proper English lady should be! I am just grateful you had enough self-control to not use any magic. If your detention hasn’t already ended, take it for all it’s worth. Even in your world, you have to learn respect. And it’s best that you do it now before you come home for good._

_I miss you dearly, and I hope that all is well with your little friends._

_Love always,_

_Mum_

“Rose!”

Rose looked up, quietly huffing as Hermione crossed the courtyard. Shoving the rest of her half-eaten Chocolate Frog into her mouth, she stuffed her letter into a deep pocket in her schoolbag and looked up from where she sat on the wall. “What’s up, Mione?” she said, voice coated in chocolate.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Hermione stopped beside her friend. “I stopped by Professor Wicker’s classroom, but she said that she hadn’t seen you since this morning.” Rose looked around and immediately noticed the absence of a certain male presence. “Where’s Ron?”

“Oh, he and Harry are in the common room. They forgot to finish their Potions homework.”

“Oh…” Rose wasn’t too surprised to hear that. After all, Harry and Ron’s lives now only seemed to involve eating, sleeping, girlfriends, and Quidditch. She swallowed the last of the chocolate. “So what’s going on?”

Hermione set herself down next to Rose. “You remember a few weeks ago, when you told me that you were playing around with Muggle electronics and magic?”

“Yeah, you said that it was a stupid idea since nothing would work here anyway,” Rose spoke with a very defined arch in her brow. Her blue eyes thinned out as well. Hermione shrugged with an odd shake of her head. “I know, but I was thinking about it today before Ancient Runes. While we’re on break, do you want to go up to the room and show me what you’ve been up to? I’m a bit curious.”

“Sure,” said Rose as they stood up. Hermione raised her delicate hand. “I still don’t see much reason in it, but it can’t hurt to check it out. I’ve never really asked Mr. Weasley what he does out in his shed.”

“I welcome the help,” Rose chuckled. “Then again, if you can figure out what I really want to do, I’ll give you half the credit.”

“Oh no, not that rubbish idea again,” said Hermione, brown eyes rolling to the sky.

“Ah Mione, think about it.” Rose motioned off into the distance with a bold hand. “The two of us come up with a way to not only get a computer to work in a charm-drenched fortress, but also summon internet access from who-knows-where, right to the Muggle Studies classroom. It would be brilliant!”

“It would be pointless! What good could come of that here? I could see you doing that back at the Weasley Burrow, but not at Hogwarts. I don’t think it can be done.”

“No one thought you could survive the Killing Curse and Harry did that twice,” Rose said, shrugging her shoulders. “Come on, you’re Muggle-born, I’m Muggle-raised. That would be something to brag about in my book. Professor Wicker would love you.”

“She’s encouraging you, why am I not surprised?” Both girls laughed to themselves. They started across the cloister for the door, and Hermione spoke up again. “That paper you were reading, was that the letter you got from your mum this morning?”

Rose nodded “Yeah.”

“How is she doing?” The Head Girl asked.

“She’s living her little life. She’s still mad at me for cursing Snape out though. She hasn’t yet lifted that personal embargo on my Gringotts account yet. Seriously, I finished that set of detentions, and she doesn’t even know about the current one. She can forgive me now.”

“She can’t keep you from your money,” said Hermione, referring to the fact that Rose had legally had full control of her finances for nearly two years.

“Try telling her that.” Rose raised her brow and her pitch. “That pisses me off! Just when I was about to take the plunge and buy that jacket from _Witch Weekly._ ”

“The green one that costs twenty galleons? I thought you said that you couldn’t afford it.” Hermione met Rose’s pace as they entered the castle.

“Oh, I changed my mind,” said Rose. “I’ve saved enough of my dad’s money. I thought that I could splurge this one time.”

Hermione thought it was only polite to not push the subject further. Rose’s father was a wealthy man, and she had come to find out that as part of his divorce agreement, Rose received a fair amount of money from Alistair on a biannual basis, a “trust fund” of sorts. It was nowhere near the splendor that the Irish Becketts had known, but it was enough to get by on her own. That however did not mean that Rose didn’t wish she had access to her father’s real money. She always had to be careful with her large purchases, and that usually came out to be books at the beginning of each term. Her frugal upbringing only reinforced this. And as an avid _Witch Weekly_ reader, Rose was ever the masochist to star off items in the shopping pages, knowing that she may never have them. At least she still had some means of survival, one decent thing her father had done for her.

And now that her father was in Azkaban, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if Rose’s good fortune had finally come to its end.

“Hey Barmy Beckett, why so smug?” Pansy suddenly appeared from around the corner. Malfoy took the place of her shadow, teeth bared in a malicious grin.

“Restraining order, Pansy!” Rose shouted, amused with herself. Hermione crossed Rose’s path, nearly tripping up her friend to get to the Slytherin couple. “She’s right, Parkinson. Come any closer and it’ll be twenty points from Slytherin!”

“Shove off, Granger!” Even so, Parkinson did abide by Professor McGonagall’s annoyingly new and temporary restriction and stopped where she stood. “No use in protecting your snippy little friend. She’s in for a new world of hell tonight.”

Rose let out her high laugh, and suddenly everyone within forty feet knew where she was. “I’m not afraid of Snape, or anything he can dish out!”

“Oh you have plenty to be afraid of, Beckett,” Pansy sneered, flipping a lock of black hair away from her shrewd face. “I’ve heard talk that he’s in one of his moods again. I could have sworn I heard him snarling your name in the hallway. Snape has it in for you, and you haven’t even got a clue.”

Rose was floored by such a stupid attempt to intimidate her. Snape hadn’t demanded anything truly awful in weeks, and Rose was beginning to ignore his true unpredictability. She shot an obnoxious look at Hermione, who also didn’t seem to find much validity in Pansy’s words. Then she laughed again. “Bullshit! I haven’t done a thing to deserve that. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about Snape either. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Is Lupin so mean to you that you have to make my day worse to feel better? _You afraid of the big bad wolf, huh?_   Parkinson, you’re pathetic!”

Pansy’s hand shot out in Rose’s direction, nails poised to slash at her face. But Hermione shoved herself forward and lightly pushed her in the opposite direction, fully asserting her powers as Head Girl. As the Slytherin slinked off down the hall, Hermione shouted that if she came near Rose again, she wouldn’t hesitate to bring it to Professor McGonagall’s attention. “You’re not the only one who can lie around here!” she said with a pristine clarity, making damn sure the bitch and everyone else around could hear.

Rose didn’t notice until she almost walked into him that Malfoy had not followed his other half. He was still leaning on the stone wall, sneering at the red-haired Gryffindor. “So you’re not worried, are you Beckett?” he said with vile cock.

“Why would I be, Malfoy?” Rose asked back with calm sarcasm. “I’m not as daft as the lot of you like to think. She made all that up and you know it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Rose shook her head. The blonde bastard couldn’t possibly be right. She hadn’t heard a peep about Snape all day, or anything involving her detentions with him. But it couldn’t be possible that Draco knew something that she didn’t. No, of course not! He was just trying to scare her, get a sick thrill out if it. “Give it up, Malfoy. What Snape does with me is his business, not yours. Call me mad, but I’m sure he’d say that too.”

“What would you know?” Malfoy started to slip into his old vicious snarl, more the Malfoy Rose was familiar with. She decided to have a little fun with the whelp while she could. She slowly crept forward and leaned up to his pale, pointed face. Her face relaxed, and her eyes softened. To a few bystanders, this approach appeared to be quite romantic except for the fact that Rose’s hands hung at her sides.

“You just can’t take it, can you?” she said, her quiet tone laced with spite. “You and your little tramp. You cannot accept that maybe Snape doesn’t mind me that much. Maybe he’s not so fond of you anymore. You’re not the royalty you once thought you were. Why don’t you just wake up? You can’t always get what you want. So stop acting like a child and leave me and my friends alone. It would probably do you good to leave Snape alone too. You _know_ how he’s been lately.”

“Snape’ll let me get away with anything,” said Malfoy. Rose smirked at that. “Is that so? Well, he hasn’t been paying much attention to you, has he now?”

The blonde wizard suddenly pushed himself off the wall, his tight fist turning white at his side. His face twisted with disgust at Rose’s biting words. Draco forced himself to bottle up his quick anger. She didn’t even know what the hell she was talking about, and yet she was so quick to strike his core. He however would not allow himself to fight back and win with the mention of his little discussion earlier that day. And if he was thinking about anything, it was what people would think if he whipped out his wand and hexed the witch into the wall. He was a former Death Eater after all. An attack on a poor, unsuspecting woman would not be looked over by anyone. But there was no way that he could let her think she could get away with talking to him and Pansy in such a way. He and his family might have been shamed by the Dark Lord, but that didn’t make their blood any less blue.

Rose stepped back as Hermione walked back to her. Draco seized the opportunity and all but charged Rose, backing her into the opposite wall. She pressed her body into the stone with a hard gaze. “You want me to quit acting like a child? Then why don’t you stop pretending? I think we both know you are half the witch you think you are, and your pretense is downright maddening. You call my girl pathetic? Try looking in a mirror.” He got as close to Rose’s face as she had to his, gray eyes piercing her pale, expressionless features. “You ought to be ashamed, the way you soiled your family’s name. Surprised Daddy Dearest didn’t take his name with him.”

Rose did not scrunch her face in protest, but Draco could have sworn he saw a glimmer in the corner of her eye, a glimmer that would become a glaze. Ah, was that the makings of a tear? He couldn’t do much to unnerve the middle class, Muggle loving bitch, but this was satisfying enough.

A high, shrill voice called out Malfoy’s name. Pansy had returned to see where he had been if not at her side. He winced at the pitch, backing away from the Gryffindor. Pansy’s pug face was suspicious, as any girl would be if they came across their boyfriend mere inches from another’s face. Malfoy shot a last angry glare at Rose, and then he was off. Hermione approached Rose, who was detaching herself from the wall. The two girls watched as Slytherin’s most famous couple rounded the corner and disappeared.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do about those two,” said Hermione. “This is getting ridiculous, what they’re doing to you, Rose… Rose, are you crying?”

“No,” Rose quietly snapped, blinking away the gleam. She shrugged her shoulders. “They’re just bugs, Hermione. They’re annoying when they’re flying around in your face, but they can be easily squashed.”

“It’s like a sick and terrifically short-tempered Snape isn’t bad enough for you.” Rose looked at Hermione, a bit perplexed. That wasn’t really the first thing she would expect to pop into her friend’s mind. Hermione offered a simple solution to that. “Ron said that.”  Rose nodded her understanding. Hermione gently touched Rose’s thin arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Rose let out a puff of air, a smile returning to her lips. She giggled to herself. “Funny about Ron, it would break his little heart to tell him that Snape’s been so civil with me lately. And poor Malfoy would lose his mind.”

**~HP~**

Severus carefully pushed open the Staffroom door, a bit afraid of who would be waiting for him on the other side. He figured that it would be a good idea to risk making an appearance before afternoon classes began, to ease some people’s nerves in light of his long bouts of solitude. But at the same time, it was those very nerves that drove him to lock up in the safety of his office. Only five people were in on his secret, but with the way that they fussed over him since they found out, it might as well have been five hundred.

He was greeted by the alert stares of Pomona, Filius, and by chance and association, Cassandra. Though the doe-eyed Muggle Studies teacher was looking at him with curiosity, Severus could feel the concern radiating from his fellow Heads of House, a shiver slowly creeping down his spine. Like a long forgotten portrait in a decrepit house, their eyes followed him as he walked over to sit in front of the fire.

“Severus, just the man I wanted to see!” Cassandra rose from the table and walked over to him. Severus wasn’t expecting such a lively response to his presence. He and Cassandra had not had much to do with each other in the past two weeks, not that they had much to do with each other anyway. Evidently, she had recovered from the shock of their last tea-time encounter. She also seemed to have forgiven him for his fighting words. Severus was left to wonder if the thirty-something year old witch had been dealt a good talking-to from one of their older colleagues.

“What could you possibly want with me, Wicker?” he asked.

Cassandra sat down on the couch beside him, tucking locks of brown hair behind her ear. In her hand was a roll of parchment that seemed to appear out of thin air. “I was wondering if you happened to know where Rose Beckett would be at this time of day. I’ve got an extra credit assignment of hers, and I wanted to see if I could give it back to her today if I knew where to find her.”

Severus rolled his eyes. After that talk with Draco, he would rather put Rose Beckett out of his mind until that night, or his next class at the very least. “Rose Beckett is not one of my house. As fascinating as her daily life is, I have absolutely no idea where she goes until she turns up for my class.”

“Well, I know that you’ve got her at night for that scuffle with that Parkinson girl. Would it be too much to ask if you could pass this on to her tonight? I would love for her to see her grade as soon as possible.”

“It _would_ be too much,” said Severus, trying to control his utter annoyance with the perky Wicker. “It is your job to handle the assignments you give the students, and that includes handing them back. Besides, I’m sure the brat would much rather get it from you, with the credit that you no doubt gave her.”

“Severus, why must you call her that? She is a charming young lady.” Cassandra said this with what sounded like a little laugh.

“You should have been there when I pulled her out of that scrap. Your favorite student sure can fight when she must.” Severus shook his head. “Charming, charming indeed.”

“At the very least, could you tell her that I have it and that I wish to return it to her?”

Severus nodded; that ought to get the insufferable woman out of his greasy hair. He waited for Cassandra to escape back to the relative safety of the island on the other side of the room. But she didn’t budge. She simply tucked the parchment into a pocket in her dress. She then turned back to him, leaning the slightest bit closer.

“Severus,” she said, her tone reinforced with honesty. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about how I acted two weeks ago, for that row we had. The things I said were totally uncalled for. I don’t know what came over me, bringing up the Death Eaters like that. But I certainly don’t mean to disrespect you.”

“Trust me when I say that I have heard quite enough of that,” said Severus. Tense hands rested in his lap.

“Fair enough, but do I have your forgiveness?”

“You might one day.” Severus looked at Cassandra in time to watch her cheery smile fade. He found himself amused by this little display of discontent. If she had paid attention to the stories floating around the faculty, she probably should have expected that. Really, she called him on his loyalties for magic’s sake! This woman would have to jump through hoops and then some to get into his good graces.

“Very well,” said Cassandra. She lightly patted his hand, not caring to notice her boundaries. “As long as you won’t hold it against me. I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you in your condition.”

Severus might as well have been cracked upside the head by an overeager Beater. What did she mean by his condition?! No one else was supposed to know! Sprout, Flitwick, Lupin, which one of those lying snitches was the one who told her?!  His impulse was to snap his head back to where the two other professors sat, but his better instincts kept his gaze on the dying flames in the hearth.

He didn’t notice Cassandra as she left him on the sofa and returned to the table. She grabbed hold of her still steaming cup of tea, and Severus heard her going on about needing to set up a projector and something about a film on the Salem Witch Trials. With a smile and a chirpy “Ta-ta,” she took her leave.

“What did you tell her?” Severus snarled as he turned his upper body to look over his shoulder. Pomona just raised her eyebrows, while Filius’s cup rattled into its saucer.

“Cassie?” the little wizard inquired. “I’m not sure if I know what you mean.”

“That is bollocks!” Snape rose to his feet, slowly crossing over to the table. “What did she mean by that? What did she mean by _my condition_?”

“If you think that we told Cassandra about the baby, Severus, we did not.” Pomona pushed away her empty cup, drumming at the wood with her fingertips.

“Oh, and how can I be so sure of that?” asked Severus, staring down his hooked nose. “A bit funny how she barely speaks to me for weeks and then suddenly sees it fit to grovel before me.”

“She’s wanted to apologize to you for some time. I mean, really apologize.”

“Then why hasn’t she?”

“Because she’s intimidated by you, like so many others,” said Filius. He squeezed a sliver of lemon into his tea. “Take my word for it, she felt terrible after what happened between you. But the way your temper has been recently, it’s easy to see why she would be slow to come forward.”

Severus forced his gaze up to the ceiling. “Be that as it may, it still doesn’t explain her choice of words just now.”

“Let me explain, Severus,” said Pomona. “We did promise to keep your secret. But that means we have to cover for you when we must. Cassandra asked us if you were in better health. I suppose she wanted to catch you on a good day. I told her that you were on the mend, but then she asked what was wrong in the first place.”

“All we said to her was that you have had some chronic health problems left over from your days with You-know-who,” Filius chimed in. “And she believed it. It’s a credible story if I do say so myself.”

Pomona nodded her agreement. “You see, she thinks you’re still recuperating, you just need time to get your strength back. The last thing she would expect is that you’re pregnant.”

“But that was not how this was supposed to be,” objected Severus, voice hitching with aggravation. “No one was supposed to have the slightest idea that something might be wrong.”

“Then you might as well wish that hundreds of people go blind,” Pomona said, choking back a sarcastic laugh. Growling, Severus turned on his heel to pace across the room. His frustration was like a hard stone trapped in his stomach, tension boiling up into his temples.

“Calm yourself, Severus.” Filius slid off his chair to nudge the Potions master over to the table. “All this worrying is not good for your baby.”

“Who are you to say what is good for me or _my baby_?” Severus sneered, his anger laced with disgust. He suppressed the urge to trip the tiny Flitwick as he was ushered into the latter’s abandoned seat. He looked up in time to see Pomona push over a plate of scones. “Don’t be so nasty,” she said. “He’s quite right. Here, eat those. You’ll need it.”

Severus’s stomach turned looking at those dry, flaky monstrosities. Telling him to eat again, when would it end?! He told the pestering witch that simply, he had eaten all he could stomach, his deep voice clinging to control. Pomona responded with a doubtful headshake. Severus rolled his eyes; if raging hormones didn’t make him ill, this nauseating care sure would.

He retreated into his mind as he leaned in on himself, propping himself up on his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t believe you,” he said, prompting looks of off-guard perplexity. “Wicker was a bit too cheery when she was talking to me. She had to have known something more.”

“Severus, I highly doubt that,” said Filius. “Pomona and I are quite keen on keeping our word to Albus and to you.”

“Who said it had to be you?” Severus stared out of the corner of a black eye.

“Are you accusing Minerva or Remus of saying something?” Pomona asked, cocking her head in his direction. Severus sighed forcefully. “Maybe I am. Maybe one of them _accidently_ let it slip to the woman. Maybe Wicker heard you two talking. I’m sure she’s had plenty of opportunity these last few days.”

“Who’s had plenty of opportunity to do what?” The door creaked shut and Remus stood there looking rather perplexed. His gaze was drawn to the wizard hunched in the chair.

“For Prospero’s sake,” Severus groaned. “Don’t get involved with this, Lupin.” The werewolf looked behind Severus’s head to Pomona with an inquiring tweak in his forehead. The older witch shook her head, right along with making a quick slash across her throat. For Remus, that was enough of a warning to catch any thought in his throat.

“Severus, would you stop with all this paranoia?” Filius spoke up again. “It wasn’t healthy for you before you became pregnant, let alone now.”

“It’s what kept me alive!” Severus abruptly stood up to resume his nervous pacing. He felt three sets of eyes following his every step, boring into the back of his head, traveling down to the flat midsection hidden by curtains of black fabric. Again, he was under the microscope. He was under constant watch, ogled at like some long forgotten creature. And this assault of concern was wearing his sanity thin. He growled deep in his throat, clenching thin, white fingers. “Will you stop looking at me like that?!” he barked, whipping his head around. “You know, I am not some porcelain doll. So you can all stop treating me like I am about to shatter!”

“Excuse us for trying to help you!” Pomona snapped back. “We know that this is a difficult time for you and –,”

“Oh no, no, no! Don’t you dare start with your pity party!” Severus slowly stalked back towards the table, index finger poised to stab Pomona’s eye out. “You don’t have a damn clue what I am going through. I’m already trapped in the bowels of Hell, and the three of you are suffocating me!”

“But –,”

“No, don’t even! I don’t want to hear it.”

“Severus, calm down,” said Remus reaching out to touch the wizard’s shoulder. But Severus jerked his body away. “Don’t touch me! Fuck off, Lupin!” Ignoring the stunned man before him, the furious Severus made a quick move for the door. He knew he had lost control. He also knew that he had to get away if he had any hope of regaining it. He had to escape back to his office as quickly as possible. Yes, get as far away from those twats as he could, for as long as possible. Just ignore the students and every maddening thing they did, and he could come down from this by next class.

But he couldn’t count on the first thing he saw upon yanking the door open being Hannah Abbott up against the wall, _innocently_ wrapped in the arms of one Ernie Macmillan.

**~HP~**

Hermione and Rose were suddenly distracted by the sound of commotion and livid shouts. They listened hard to what was actually going on, but could only make out the distant noise of deep snarling, words lost with the distance. Hermione gulped, hoping those snarls were as familiar to Rose as they were to her. But it didn’t concern them, this time they were the nosy bystanders. So the two Gryffindor girls, as confused as they were intrigued, continued on their way. But neither of them were prepared to be nearly trampled by Hannah Abbott as she came squealing around the corner.

“Oi, Hannah, watch it!” Rose shouted, jumping out of the Hufflepuff’s way. Hannah looked back briefly, panic swiped across her face. “Sorry Beckett!” she shouted, more a cry than an apology. She soon disappeared into the nearby corridor, attracting stares the whole way.

“What’s gotten into her?” asked Rose as she and Hermione continued walking.

“I dunno,” said the Head Girl. “I suppose it’s got something to do with whatever is going on up there.” Hermione knew that she had certain duties to adhere to as Head Girl, one of which was to investigate any hoopla that reached her ears. And thankfully for her, Rose understood this. Hermione led the way, her roommate a short distance behind. They parted the crowds heading both toward and away from the ruckus. They came around the corner to where the staffroom door hung open on its hinges.

Snape stood out in front of that door. He looked like some kind of animal, teeth gnashing against a harsh hissing for breath, and his bony knuckles white with tension.  His face was ghostly white, though that did not disguise the vein throbbing just above his high collar. Children scattered about the area, little ones taking refuge behind their older, bolder, braver counterparts. Others were taking any opportunity to run away as fast as they could. It seemed that they had all interrupted Snape in the midst of an epic tantrum. No, actually it looked bigger than epic.

“You heard me!” Snape shouted, snarling at anyone unfortunate enough to get close. “Get out of here, all of you, or it will be thirty points from _every last one of you!_ That is not a threat, Reilly, don’t you dare smirk at me! Ten points from Ravenclaw. I heard that, Dollen! I’m a crazy berk, am I? You want to say that to my face?! Twenty points from Hufflepuff! What don’t any of you understand by leave now?! I’ll have your heads if you don’t quit staring and start walking!”

“What in the hell?” Hermione gasped, strangely rapt by the professor’s sheer, unadulterated rage. She took shelter behind a group of Ravenclaw girls, watching the outburst from a safe distance. Hermione’s attention was so engrossed that she failed to notice how Rose had not followed her lead, and that her friend stood stiffly in the hall.

“Oh shit…”

“What do you think did it this time?” Hermione’s voice was low enough for Rose, a bare three feet away, to hear while keeping a certain level of privacy.

“Fuck, fuck, Malfoy was right!” said Rose, caught between a shocked gasp and a panicked hiss.

“Rose?” Hermione inquired, turning her face to her. Rose’s eyes were the size of dinner plates and were locked on Snape. Terror swept through every bit of her being. Snape was in another extraordinary, unexplained rage, just as her sworn enemies had predicted. And with the recent history that she had with the wizard, she knew that she could not risk a damn thing. “I’ve gotta get out of here!” she exclaimed, struggling to keep attention off of herself. She turned, her feet already in momentum to make her getaway.

“But Rose –,”

“No! Don’t say my name. Don’t let him hear you.” Now Rose was running, swiftly as to reduce the sound of her footsteps. “I’ll see you later.”

Hermione called out, confused. “Rose, wait!”

“ _Beckett!_ ”

Ugly skid marks stretched across the floor to where Rose’s shoes had come to their untimely stop. Rose froze at the growl that was supposed to be her last name, her face scrunched up and her eyes pressed shut. The sound of voices and shuffling behind her warned her of Snape’s slow approach. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” she whispered to herself.

“What was that?” Snape bit out.

“Nothing,” said Rose, speaking up and pushing down distress. “Yes Professor?”

“Look at me!” Rose could hear Snape tapping his boot on the stone. She cautiously turned back around, putting on her expected brave face. He was some six feet away from her, staring at her like she had committed some kind of cardinal sin according to the book of Snape. “About your detention tonight,”

“Yes sir?”

“I want to see you in front of my desk at five thirty, and not a minute later!”

“What?! No!” the student protested with a screech. Five thirty was absolutely outrageous, even by Snape’s standards. The way she saw it, her _entire night_ was now going to be spent in a dank dungeon. She was going to slave the night away because Snape needed a punching bag. It was totally and completely unfair! “That barely gives me two hours after class! And when am I supposed to eat?!”

“Silence, Beckett!” Snape shouted. “Five thirty, no excuses!”

“But that’s not fair!” Rose made quite a risky move by stepping closer to the fuming wizard until she stared up into the black holes he called eyes. She could feel great puffs of forced air against her face. Snape glared down at her, and suddenly Rose’s plan for defense was forgotten. She gulped in spite of herself, realizing how stupid she had been.

“Beckett, unless you wish to have your hair scorched again, get out of my face.”

Rose backed away, yelping and grabbing at the ends of her locks. Other girls were doing the same thing, though Snape likely would not have noticed. Rose was speechless, her instinct to defend herself rendered useless by her helpless confusion. “I didn’t do anything!” Now she was pleading.

“Do you honestly think that I care?” Snape sneered venomously. His right hand was clenching up, missing the grip on his wand.

“Professor Snape!”

“Shut up!”

Just then, Lupin dashed over from the staffroom and threw himself between the exasperated wizard and the flustered witch. He pushed Snape back with a firm arm. “That’s enough, Severus! Settle down, now,” he commanded. He looked around at the frozen groups of quivering children, at the shocked Hermione Granger and poor Rose Beckett. “All of you, off with you now!” he shouted. “Classes will be starting again soon. Miss Beckett, I apologize, but I suggest you listen to Professor Snape. Five thirty tonight.”  Hermione quickly glided over to Rose, nudging her to get her walking. Both girls were soon running in the direction of the stairs, escaping any more trouble that could be undeservingly thrown at them. The other kids decided to follow their example and set off in all their various paths. The DADA professor made damn sure that no one was within immediate reach before he turned back to Snape.

The Potions master was breathing hard, but his gaze was turned inward. He was trying to calm himself down at last. He turned to leave, staring down at the floor, not caring to look up at anyone. Remus carefully turned Severus in the direction of the stairs that would take him back to his lair. Wanting to be sure that he was alright, the werewolf followed a short ways behind.

“So it is now your duty to do my job as well?” Severus said as he stopped by the steps, his back turned.

“I can’t let an innocent student be thrown to the lions,” said Remus. He waited for Severus to turn to face him, but was quick to realize that this was wishful thinking. “You alright now? You okay to teach?”

“Just tell Albus not to worry when I don’t show up for dinner. Make something up, like I caught Beckett using obscene language again.”

Remus nodded. “I can do that.” And with a long sigh, Severus set off down the winding stairs. Remus also sighed, relieved that little episode was over. He felt bad, those unlucky children on the wrong end of that temper. He felt worse for Filius and Pomona, whatever they did to trigger it. But he couldn’t have felt worse for anyone than for Severus himself. To be a slave to your hormones like that, it had to be horrendous for the poor guy. Remus just hoped that Severus would end up like his Nymphadora and balance out as the weeks went by.

Before he returned upstairs to prepare his lesson on poltergeists for the Third years, Remus decided to make a quick trip down to the dungeons. Not to further pester Severus, that man needed some time alone before his next class. It was the first place he thought to look for Pansy Parkinson. Since Rose was going to be doing some hard time tonight, it seemed appropriate that the Slytherin did the same. Their detentions, after all, were a packaged deal of sorts. He had nothing to warrant a five thirty call time, but he could insist on _three_ hundred and fifty lines. He ought to tell her to come up at seven instead of eight to give her a head start. He chuckled to himself.

Snape wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.


	16. It's the hero who loses the most

She was scowling and grumbling when she got there, but Rose showed up at Snape’s classroom at five thirty. Beyond her quiet mutterings, she didn’t have much to say to her professor. And with the terse tone she used the few times she actually addressed him, it seemed that she had no intentions for small talk. An injustice like that, she thought, who would? She probably should have known better than to get comfortable with him, get lulled into that stupid routine.

Now quite subdued, Severus was able to have enough self-control to leave her to her extra work. He had decided to follow through on his promise to Draco and ordered that Rose peel the wads of chewing gum off the undersides of the desks, without any utensils, just her finely manicured fingernails. Rose had responded by staring at him like he had sprouted a second head. That had to be the most disgusting thing she had done in that room, and that was saying a lot. She only agreed after Snape assured her that he would provide her with a Sterilizing Potion after she had finished.

“Holy fuck, does Goyle have a smoking problem?!” groaned Rose from on her hands and knees under the Slytherin’s desk, tearing off the twenty-seventh piece of hardened yuck and tossing it into the rubbish basket.

“Watch your mouth, Miss Beckett,” said Snape. “You’re lucky that you didn’t lose any points earlier.”

_‘I’m lucky that you never got hold of your wand,’_ Rose thought to herself. She was still a bit shaken up, a bit grateful that her hair was left unsinged. She wasn’t going to try her luck with Snape, doing her best to keep her words to herself. That was proving to be harder and harder with every tacky, saliva smeared gob that left itty bitty specks under her nails. She tasted her own sick at the idea. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Malfoy had something to do with this, that bloody little Chihuahua of a girlfriend probably biting his leg the whole time. She would have to get him back somehow, when she thought of something awful and sneaky enough to get away with. Each time she ripped off a chunk of gum, she imagined she was ripping off a bit of Malfoy’s face.

Snape watched on, seeing the struggle in her face and listening to the light grunts. But strangely, he wasn’t relishing in the Gryffindor’s revolted misery. He did not have the slightest clue why he had lashed out at her in the first place. His frayed emotions had gotten the best of him again. But once he had come down from that fit of hormone-induced fury, he realized just how irrational and unmerited he had been. He had no control over himself, and Rose had to bear the brunt of it. And now he regretted it.

He rather enjoyed his conversations with her, however short they were. She had done a marvelous job at distracting him from his troubles, from the child growing deep inside him. She was a very small comfort, but it was a comfort that Severus could accept. And in a sea of insufferable Gryffindor scum, Beckett was a breath of air. In fact, even with her sharp tongue and annoying tenacity, he was actually becoming quite fond of her. Now he feared that snapping at her had set him back to where they started, if her hostility towards him in class was any indication.

Rose had been picking and peeling for just half an hour when hunger began to rear its ugly head. She could not stop herself from thinking about the splendid food that her friends were feasting on upstairs. She thought of the kitchens, mere yards away, and her mouth watered. She tried to stay focused on her nasty chore, but she flushed red when her stomach betrayed her with a soft growl. She nervously looked at Snape, who just seemed to disregard her embarrassment. Still, she tried to muffle the sound by wrapping an arm around her torso.

Sometime later, Snape gently cleared his throat, getting Rose’s attention. She crawled out from under a desk in the back. “Having trouble?” asked Snape.

“I’ve broken two nails, if you call that trouble.” Rose shrugged, her voice still stiff, but weakened.

The greasy professor looked down into the basket at the girl’s gross little collection. “Well, you have been at it for an hour or so. I suppose that’s enough torture for one evening.”

“I’m done for the night?”

“Of course not,” said Snape, finding the look on Rose’s face to be quite funny. He was rewarded with a huff of hot breath. “What I mean to say is that I will allow you to use tools to finish the job. You finished Goyle’s desk by hand. I’m not one to admit this, but that takes nerves of steel.”

Rose got to her feet, a subtle smile tugging at tight lips. “Thank you, Professor. Now, about that potion you promised…”

Snape’s wand swished through the air so quickly that Rose couldn’t follow it. Not five seconds later, a jar was in her hands. “A word of advice, Miss Beckett,” said Snape. “Brew a large batch for yourself. It keeps well. You never know when it will come in handy. Just open a window if you choose to make it in your dormitory.”

Rose again thanked her professor and unscrewed the top, setting the jar down beside the sink. She spent a good four minutes with the tips of her fingers submerged in the ice-blue mixture, until she was sure she had killed all the bacteria left behind by her peers. Then she poured out short streams over her hands. Thoroughly cleansed, she reached for the bar of soap. The one flaw with Sterilizing Potions was that they smelt no better than Muggle products. Rose quickly dabbed her hands dry, and then went into a drawer to retrieve a knife.

_*Pop*_

Rose might have stabbed herself in the foot if she had not had hold of the handle. Off guard and possibly having a heart attack, she looked around. Two house-elves had barged in, the way that they did out of thin air. They were each lifting a covered tray up onto Snape’s desk. The wizard acknowledged them with a brief nod, and then the elves vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. “Before you start that,” said Snape, coaxing Rose closer.

“What’s this about?” she asked.

“Professor McGonagall and I made arrangements for you to take your dinner down here. She thought it might be difficult to concentrate with your mind in the kitchens.” Severus conveniently left out how it was originally his idea. Most could call it pity. He called it a peace offering for a long night of servitude. Besides, if Beckett was anything like her father, well-fed meant happy and cooperative. “I have to eat anyway, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you here alone.”

Rose approached as he lifted the covers off the trays. It was hot roast beef for them tonight, along with steamy carrots and a good helping of mashed potatoes. Snape noticed Rose swallow the saliva filling her mouth. She grabbed the warm plate and her goblet, and then retreated to the nearest desk, coming back only for her knife and fork. While Severus was careful and slow in his eating, Rose just about attacked her meat. She looked like a closeted carnivore. Merlin, she really was hungry! Already, Rose looked much more relaxed, soothed by her own chewing.

What a relief, Severus thought.

“I really appreciate this, sir,” said Rose, stabbing a piece of beef. Snape shook his head. “Well, what else could I have done after that pathetic begging of yours?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I thought that you would let me starve.”

“And be stuck with you and your stomach growling at me all night? I think not.” Snape avoided Rose’s glance, instead staring down at the food he was pushing around his plate. Rose looked at him, as subtle as she was curious. “Professor, can I ask you something?” Snape nodded his permission. “Why are we here now? What did I do to get into trouble?”

Snape sighed. The girl was a witch who lived up to her house’s name. Already knowing that she was not a coward, he realized rather early on that she would be seeking an explanation before night’s end. At least she was going about it in a polite manner, a stark contrast to many before her. “You wish to hear the truth?” he asked.

“Please,”

Snape fiddled with his fork, twisting it around in his potatoes. He could make something up, but Rose was smarter than that. “You did nothing.” He thought that Rose would be surprised to hear that, but the young Gryffindor was unmoved. She simply chomped down on her carrot-laden fork. “But then why did you scream at me like that in front of everybody?”

“Because you happened to be there.”

“But…but…I…” Rose stammered, the confusion setting in.

“You wanted to know the truth, didn’t you?” That did the trick. Rose shut her mouth again, silencing herself further with her next forkful. Snape leaned on his desk. “If you must know, I was not in my right mind this afternoon. I was overly frustrated with things that you have no business knowing about, and I took it out on the students.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Rose. “But sir, that –,”

“I know, Miss Beckett, it was not fair. Imagine what it was like for me to realize just how unprofessional I acted.” Severus rolled his eyes as he sliced off a small piece of beef, carefully placing it in his mouth.

Rose raised her eyebrows. “So you _do_ realize it.”

“Only because I knew I had virtually no control of myself,” Snape said on an exhale. “If I had been able to think more clearly, I would have done my best to ignore you. I suppose you could call yourselves rather fortunate that I was calm for class. I am still surprised that all of you cooperated the way that you did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a NEWT class so quiet.”

“You must have been in a bad place,” said Rose. “I haven’t seen someone get so angry in a really long time.”

“It’s difficult to explain.” Snape hid behind the brim of his goblet, cringing at the taste. Just when did pumpkin juice become so nasty? Known to be pregnant for only a few days, and already his palate was changing.

Rose couldn’t help but wonder what her teacher meant. What was difficult? Theory upon theory rushed on through, but there wasn’t a snowflake’s chance in Hell that she could think about pursuing them. She had worked herself into Snape’s almost-good graces. Why would she ruin that with a week and a half ahead of her? “Oh…um…alright then.” She turned her attention back to her meal.

Snape ran a hand down his face as though the girl were shamelessly guilting him into what she really wanted. “Look here, Miss Beckett,” he said, and she did. He looked at her with soft integrity. “Listen, I let my stress get the best of me, I dealt with it in the wrong way, and I am sorry that you had to get caught up in that.”

Rose was quiet, rummaging around her mind for words. For half a second, she thought that she must have heard wrong. “But why?” she finally asked. “A month ago, you wanted me out of here.”

“Because unlike some people, you are actually rather tolerable,” Snape explained. “More tolerable than many of your acquaintances, even. You are a walking sign post for your insufferable house, but at least you are not so upfront with it. And I don’t believe I can help myself to say that you do know my trade. It isn’t very often that I come across students as well-rounded in potion-making as you and Granger.”

“What are you saying?” Rose leaned closer to his desk.

“I’m saying that you are not as much a thorn in my side as you once were. Do yourself a favor, and keep that to yourself. I couldn’t handle the state of sheer rebellion from my house if they were to hear that.”

Rose was surprised, even if she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. It was a compliment if she ever heard one. She was not one of the simpering idiots anymore; she heard it from the man himself! A soft stream of pride flowed through her, delighted that Snape finally saw her as she felt she deserved to be seen. She looked back at Snape and noticed that he still had not eaten nearly as much as she had. The swell of satisfaction was relieved by concern.

“I’m sorry that I got in your way, Professor,” she said. “And I’m sorry that you were in such a terrible mood.” Snape just nodded, his face long and drained of color. He set his fork down, prompting Rose to do the same. The young witch felt a clench of sympathy in her ribs, and she rung her fingers nervously. “Life hasn’t been easy lately, has it?”

Snape looked up at her. “What?”

“The stress, the publicity, you were ill. That has to be hard. You know, I don’t say this as much as I probably should, but it takes a lot in a person to live like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my own share of bad times recently. But after what’s happened to you, I cannot imagine how you get through each day.”

_‘If you only knew the truth,’_ Severus thought. He had to hand it to her, she had the right idea. Even if the rape had never happened, if his unborn fetus did not exist, he had his doubts that his days would have been any more bearable. “You are not the first person to say things of that sort. You say that you don’t say it as much as you like?”

“With people gossiping about you, someone has to stick up for you.”

“Enlighten me. Not that I’m surprised by it, but why haven’t you?” Snape asked, quite suspicious.

Rose’s voice faltered. “It isn’t that I don’t think you deserve all the respect in the world, because you do. I’ve been saying that for months, maybe longer. But I…I do have a reputation to look after.”

“Reputation,” Snape sneered. “Is that what you call it?”

Rose shook her head. “Hey, I have one. It’s just a matter if you choose to see it. I might be just tolerable to you. But to quite a few people, I’m worth the chat. Ask any of my housemates and they’ll tell you that I’m friendly and reliable.”

“So I’ve heard. I haven’t heard anything less come out of that blasted Muggle Studies classroom.” Rose looked at Snape with a suddenly weaker glance. That’s when he remembered that little mention of bad days. In years gone by, Rose had lived to be the apple of Charity Burbage’s eye. It was unlikely that the witch’s death would go un-mourned by her most favorite student. Out of respect for Burbage, he dismissed any further comment.

“Anyway,” Rose continued. “I get along well with most people, and I always have. But these are testy times, and people talk. I just don’t want to do anything that would upset that.”

“Of course you don’t. A Gryffindor such as yourself, now part of Potter’s entourage, coming to the defense of a dejected, former Death Eater. Wouldn’t that be a disgrace?” The snarl curled Snape’s lip, exposing crooked teeth.

“I don’t mean it that way,” Rose tried to explain, keeping a firm hold on her tone.

“How else could you mean it?” Snape challenged. “It is perfectly clear to me. You care too much about what people think of you. You stop yourself from speaking your mind because you always want stay the sweet little lady they have deemed you.”

“Oh I speak my mind,” said Rose. “But in spite of that, I hate to be disliked, for any reason. I may want to speak up for what I really think, but in doing so, I would be asking for confrontation. All I can say is that I avoid it when I can.”

Snape pushed away his half-eaten meal and propped his head up on the desk. He massaged his temples. “You know Beckett; you have to be smoking something to think I will be sympathetic to your plight. You whimper about dislike to the most hated soul in the castle.”

“Oh c’mon Professor, that’s not true,” Rose tried to reason.

“Don’t start with me, Beckett. It is true and we both know it.” Snape slammed a heavy fist down on the aged wood. The plates and the girl both jumped and shuttered. “I’m just trying to help,” Rose admitted earnestly. “I didn’t think that it bothered you.”

“You insolent children assume a lot.”

“You mean it does?”

“It didn’t until recently.” The Gryffindor looked at the Potions master with raised eyebrows, trying her best not to appear flabbergasted. “Don’t look at me like that,” Snape droned.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Rose promptly turned her attention onto her last few bites of meat and potato. She swallowed the tension in her throat, wishing that she could tell if Snape was angry at her, or if she had simply re-provoked his old frustrations. “Is there anything I can do?” She wondered if such a question was the right idea under her circumstances.

Snape sighed, slowly tapping the wood of his desk. “Just continue to be as well-mannered as you are now. It helps to know that I don’t have to manage your aggravating classmates, and then come here and fight you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Rose, tucking the last of her food into her mouth.

“Why would I want to talk about anything with you?” The wizard asked back with a lazy sneer.

“Because I’ll listen.” Rose was quick to respond, sure of herself and her choices. Snape saw this in both her face and her thoughts. But that didn’t make him any less uncomfortable. He saw a young woman who was tired of reading the papers and listening to lunch table talk. He saw a young woman who was looking for firsthand answers. “It’s okay, Professor, I won’t tell anyone. Not even Hermione. I wouldn’t want to betray your trust like that.”

_‘Damn, it’s like she can hear my thoughts.’_ Severus was smarter than to so willingly unload his troubles onto someone as insignificant as a student. Yet some inner voice of his was dying to be heard, weeks of built up angers and unspoken stress. He had plenty of opportunities to unleash them on his mad old headmaster and his band of supporters, but Rose’s quiet demeanor seemed more welcoming. “You think my life has been anything but easy since the Dark Lord’s downfall,”

“Yes?”

“Well, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Rose got up to set her cleaned plate onto Snape’s desk, looking at him with heavy eyes. She held onto her half-empty goblet and sat on top of the desk she had vacated. “I can imagine,” she said. But Snape shook his head adamantly. “No Beckett, I don’t think you can.”

“Let me finish,” Rose raised a pointing little finger off her goblet, taking a sip. “I fought in that war too, I did my part. But I didn’t have to face You-know-who on a regular basis. That had to be hell.”

“The Dark Lord was always one to cause someone misery, even those close to him.”

“More than that, from what I’ve heard,” said Rose, light brows wrinkling at the thought. “For heaven’s sake, he tried to kill you!”

Oh, she had to bring that up! “And you don’t know how close he came to succeeding. Potter was not kidding when he told the papers that those healers practically brought me back from the dead.” Rose’s jaw eased open. Not enough to attract flies, but just enough to give away her astonishment. Snape continued. “I know, miraculous to say the least. But I will be honest with you, so you better hold up on that promise of yours. I have had my moments when I wish I had not survived.”

“Why not?”

“Because perhaps it would have been easier to die than to go on with such a miserable existence.”

Now Rose found herself disturbed and a bit saddened. “Oh Professor Snape…”

“Don’t sugarcoat the truth. I was saddled with a retched life, and I was never given a chance for anything better. Even when God and everyone else in our world knows that I strived to do what I thought was right, nothing changed. At least if I had died, then I would have been spared all of that unbelievable, relentless pain. Surely, you could understand that.”

Rose shook her head, her eyes travelling up Snape’s frail frame. “I really wish I could. I was in hospital for only a few days. You were there for weeks.”

“I was _here_ for weeks. Try to recover from near-fatal injuries while they are trying to rapidly rebuild a castle around you.” Snape followed Rose’s gaze to his covered neck. He compulsively adjusted his high collar. Caught in the act, Rose forced herself to stare down at the floor, letting go of a deep sigh. The increasingly tired Potions master also sighed, feeling every ache in his body. “As you can imagine, I would have preferred to be left in peace. But the Ministry would never let that happen.”

“They really shouldn’t have arrested you. Not after what you did for us during the war. I thought they would have honored you as the hero you were.”

“But you still thought that I had killed Dumbledore, didn’t you?”

Rose coughed on pumpkin juice, clutching at her breastbone as the tight pain twisted down into her chest. “Professor, I –,”

“Answer me,”

The young witch was cautious, taking a moment to catch her breath again. “I believed what Harry told us. He said that he saw you cast the killing curse. If he told everyone that Dumbledore was alive all along, I probably would have believed him then too, eventually I mean.”

“Potter didn’t know any more than anyone else. That plan would not have worked if it did not stay between only the headmaster and myself.”

“It was a brilliant plan,” said Rose

“Too brilliant!” Snape snarled, more at the air than the girl across from him. “Because of that blasted old man, I was almost sent to prison for life!”

“He got you out in time,” Rose tried to calm down the touchy man. “It was an honest mistake. The Minister didn’t know.”

“He should have,” he growled. Now feeling tension pain in his temples, Snape clenched his fist white. “Never would have happened if the mad codger had listened to what I had to say.”

“He just wanted what was best.”

“You say that like you know Dumbledore closely.” Severus tried to sip from his own goblet, but nearly choked at the taste. He shoved it away violently. “Ah, this is disgusting! I can’t take it anymore!”

Rose brought up a careful hand. “If you don’t want it, I’ll drink it,” she said. Snape waved her on. “Be my guest!”

Rose quickly exchanged Snape’s goblet for her now empty one, and was back on her desk in seconds. “Alright, so let’s think of it this way. Dumbledore knew that you did not deserve to live out your life in Azkaban, he convinced the Wizengamot of the same.”

“He still cannot change their opinions,” said Snape, his voice falling low.

“But you didn’t really kill him.”

“Minor details, Beckett. Most of them wanted me in prison because they thought I should have been sent there seventeen years ago. Again, no matter what I do, I am still the devious, manipulating Death Eater.”

“Those people are idiots,” Rose shrugged her shoulders. But Snape responded with a drained glare. “Insult half our world, why don’t you?”

“I don’t care how many people I have to insult, it isn’t right.”

Snape buried his face in his hands. “So says the girl who cannot speak up for me for fear of what fourteen year-olds will say.”

“It isn’t like that, Professor. It’s complicated.”

“Why is it complicated?” asked Snape. “Is it because too many of the students agree with their parents? Is it because many of them openly wish that I was never pardoned, that I never lived? Is it because you fear that they will take on anyone with the gall to back me up, and you cannot risk that?”

Rose felt the knot in her throat. Snape never ceased to catch her off guard. But she never thought that she would be speechless because she was upset, not at him, but for him. Her whole Wizarding life, she had assumed that Snape had the toughest skin of any man in Britain. He really was the most hated man at Hogwarts, and she always thought that it never had any effect. Hell, she thought he liked the loathing! But now, unbiased and open-minded, she silently cursed herself for such childish thoughts. This was a man, not a monster.

“It still isn’t right,” she repeated. Just to give herself something to do in the knife-cutting discomfort, she carefully pulled the ribbon from her hair. She slowly wrapped the red strand around her thin fingers, easily tossing back long red locks with a free hand.

“What are the odds, Miss Beckett?” Snape meekly replied. “You and what, two or three of your friends, against hundreds from three other houses?”

“It would be worth a shot.”

“I seriously doubt that.” The Potions master rolled his deep, dark eyes away from the passive Gryffindor.

“Tell me, sir. Why does it bother you so much?” Rose asked ever so quietly. “They’re just kids. Kids say things without thinking first. You’re a teacher, you know that.”

“It’s one thing to have blundering simpletons calling me a biased bastard or slimy git when they think I can’t hear them. I’m used to that.” Snape was rubbing his temples again. “But to have the nerve to think it’s alright to call me a wicked traitor, without consideration…” He trailed off, pressing his eyes shut. His knuckles turned white as his face flushed. Calmly, Rose instructed Snape to take a deep breath, and though it took a few long seconds, he obeyed. Snape wiped the faint layer of sweat off his forehead.

Rose stuffed the red ribbon into her pocket and hopped off the desk, grabbing the empty goblet in front of her teacher. She walked over to the sink to fill it up. He might not have appreciated the pumpkin juice, but a glass of water certainly would not do him any harm. She brought it to him without a word, and placed it right in front of him. She tucked her hands behind her back, waiting for a response.

“Thank you, Miss Beckett,” said Snape, and like that, she was back on the desk. He gulped down a mouthful of the cold liquid, his body relaxing again. He looked back at Rose, who had her chin resting in her hands on her knees. He sighed and he looked to the ceiling.

“In any case, it’s maddening to have been revealed as Dumbledore’s man, and yet somehow, that doesn’t mean a thing to one too many mindless teenagers. Even more maddening still is that I know these people probably will never take me seriously. I don’t even know why I’m venting to you, _you_ of all people. You are a Gryffindor. You are friends with that damn Dream Team. You are sitting there nodding your head and frowning like you understand. But why would you when no one has ever had reason to question your loyalties.”

He looked down, expecting to see that same pathetic little sulk. But he was surprised at how the Beckett girl was glaring back at him. Her mouth was tight and her glare was sharp. Had he said something to suddenly offend her? It was true.

“Loyalties?” she asked, calm voice suddenly tense. “No one’s ever questioned _my_ loyalties? Are you kidding me? You know, Professor, not everyone who’s ever been in Gryffindor has been an untouchable saint. We just came out of the most tumultuous pure-blood madness our world has ever known, and I’m half-blood. Do you know how hard it was to openly admit that my favorite class was Muggle Studies, setting myself up for criticism or worse? My whole life here, I’ve had to defend that my heart was with our people first. But did they listen? Oh no, sir! And the only thing that made it worse was that the proof of my magical blood wasn’t too keen on backing me up. Lord knows my father wasn’t going to risk the honor of blood and Slytherin for me.”

Snape shook his head, half to himself. “Beckett, I have heard this all before. You’re a half-blood with ties to the Muggle world. You don’t exactly follow in your father’s footsteps. Witches and wizards have struggled with the same issues for centuries.”

“Here, look!” Rose snapped. She yanked up her sleeve, sailing across to the head desk and shoving her bare forearm foreword. Her inner arm was pale and smooth, but Snape would have to be blind to miss the ugly blemish between her elbow and her wrist. Two darkened marks, an inch or two from each other, the lasting impressions of deep burns. Snape’s obsidian eyes thinned as he stared at these old injuries.

“You know what those are?” said Rose. Snape suppressed a shutter; he did. “Alecto Carrow did that when I had the nerve to speak up in that joke of a class of hers. She said I had no business with Muggles, except to use them in a little game of target practice. They were useless, and so I was useless. She rather enjoyed scorching me with her wand, and I wasn’t the only one. Don’t even get me started on the other things she did to us. To make myself very clear, don’t you ever accuse me of not being in your place, of not understanding that kind of judgment, because I have and I do!”

Severus couldn’t speak. The girl had awakened the memories of the horrendous things every student was subjected to, all except the privileged Slytherins. He remembered the harrowing cries of unlucky victims of the Cruciatus Curse, those that fought for their life and limb in alleged detentions. Even someone like Rose Beckett, someone who had never stuck out from the crowds, bore the scars of these tortures. But he just let it happen, ignored their cries for help, just barely kept them all alive. Guilt began to weigh down an already heavy mind.

“I apologize, Miss Beckett. I see your point. But at the very least, you were spared that criticism on such a grand scale. You don’t have every wizard looking at you oddly every time you walk down a street.”

Rose rolled down her sleeve, again hiding her burn marks. “I’ve felt it at times.”

“That’s just teenaged paranoia.” Snape felt his stomach give a slow turn, summoning his hand up for a comforting rub. He forgot that Rose was looking right at him. “Are you okay?” she asked. He nodded her off, grateful that he had been spared the foreboding metallic taste. “You didn’t seriously believe the people who said you didn’t deserve your job back, did you?”

“Doesn’t everyone have their weak moments?” said Snape.

“But Dumbledore obviously thought you have a great deal of worth. He did invite you back, after all. And the rest of the teachers seem to agree.”

“As I told one of my students this morning, I only accepted the offer because there isn’t much more to my life than Hogwarts. I wasn’t exactly getting other job offers, and I couldn’t stay locked up for the rest of my life, as much as I would have liked that.”

“I like to think that the headmaster gave you your job back because he knows you’ve made an impact on other people’s lives,” said Rose. “You certainly made an impact on mine. I wouldn’t be half the potioneer I am now if Slughorn had taught us from the beginning. I always credit it to both my own skill and your classes. And it didn’t really matter to you who my father was, or my uncle or cousin or some other Beckett that I don’t know.” She smiled, and was relieved to see the smirk Snape gave her in return. “You’re an evil bastard, but you’re good at what you do.”

“If only it were that simple.” Snape stopped short of anything too deep and invasive. He still could not trust Rose enough to even consider getting into that nonsense. Besides, he could only assume that she had already cornered Potter to hear that story.

Rose came even closer and leaned on his desk. “Hey, hang in there. I know it’s tough. I wanted to go home last summer and just disappear. But it’s worth it, believe me. Just look how far you’ve come. It’s all worth it. There are folks out there calling you a hero. Just pay attention to them.” She quietly collected together the plates, silverware, and empty goblets. “If you’re not feeling well tonight, I can go if you want.”

“Not so quick, Miss Beckett,” said Snape. “Nice try, but you are not yet finished under those desks.” Rose huffed, though with a smirk, and reached for her discarded knife. She disappeared under the wooden isle of Thomas and Finnigan.

Severus felt surprisingly relaxed, the blood flowing to his head with no trouble or tension. His stomach was still a little upset, but that would pass. This must be how it felt after a session with one of those Muggle therapists. How could it be that the girl’s optimism could be irritating in their day to day lives, and still be exactly what he needed when it was just them? Severus decided that since she helped lower his alarming blood pressure, he could accept that optimism. After all, she took his miserable post-war experiences, and tried to spin it in his favor. He was almost tempted to tell her that his illness was in fact morning sickness, just to see of what she could make of a pregnant wizard. It wasn’t going to happen over his dead body, but Severus still felt that she would at least try to turn it into something good, as strange as it might be to her. Who taught her how to do that? Was it Granger? Burbage? That Muggle mother of hers?

“Oh, Miss Beckett,” said Snape, his memory suddenly jogged. Rose turned to him, mid-pry. “Professor Wicker was looking for you earlier. She wanted me to tell you that she has that extra credit essay for you.”

“She does?” Rose smiled. “Well, when you see her in the morning, tell her that I’ll pick it up after first class.”

“I cannot guarantee that, but I will try.”

“Did she say anything about my grade?”

“No, and I wouldn’t have cared anyway.” Snape half-rolled his eyes. “Though judging from the look on her face, I would say you did rather well.”

“Thank Merlin,” sighed Rose. “I spent a whole Sunday writing that.”

“Why? From what I hear, you don’t need the credit. What was that essay on anyway?”

“It was an in-depth analysis of the pros and cons of the left and right wings of Muggle Parliament.”

Snape cocked an amused black eyebrow, unable to resist. “Hmm, that being said, which side do you agree with?”

“The Ministry of Magic. Nice try to you, Professor, but I’m not taking that bait.” Against his better judgment, Snape decided to let that one cheek slide.


	17. Autumn winds and fallen leaves

Rose didn’t know what to make of herself. It wasn’t like the former Death Eater to give endearing confessions to just any person, and yes, she did still feel like she was just any person in Snape’s eyes. It was miraculous enough that he now spoke to her like the adult that she was. And though it seemed they had both accepted the casual one on one chats, it never went beyond an unspoken boundary on Snape’s part. Rose’s respect for him kept her in her place. So there was no way she could have foreseen such a deep dinnertime conversation with the Potions master.

She figured that Snape would eventually open up about the unseen aftermath of the war. But she never thought that she would be on the receiving end. Her, not one of his own students! It would be pretty hard to be annoyed with him after that, no matter how much reason she had. Seeing Snape like that tugged on her heartstrings. How could a man be so vulnerable and hide it so well? But while it saddened her to put him in that place, she didn’t exactly regret it. She knew that he did not want her pity; he just needed to be heard. He had kept all that bottled up for long enough. He just needed the support of someone who would not immediately judge him, and she did not. Strangely, Rose felt honored that Snape thought it was alright to confide in her. She was still puzzled as to why she was suddenly approachable in that way, but it still felt good to know that she was able to be of some help to the unhappy wizard. It was the least she could do after what he went through just to be there every night.

That apology for his misdirected rage didn’t hurt either. Who would have thought that she would ever hear stubborn old Professor Snape say sorry?

“He said that? He actually said he was sorry?” asked Harry in a hushed voice as he and Rose hiked down the winding stairs. Rose had been quite confused by the previous day’s DADA homework and Harry graciously stole her away to the library to help. They finished with time to spare before lunch break was over.

“That’s what he said,” said Rose. “Clear as day.”

“And you believed him?”

“Of course, I believed him. I don’t think he would have said it if he didn’t mean it.”

“Wow,” Harry raised his brow in reluctant surprise. “It doesn’t make sense, not one bit! I heard about yesterday. He scared Hermione, did you know that? I didn’t think Snape would own up to that, and in less than twenty-four hours too!”

“Maybe he’s starting to mellow out,” Rose suggested.

“Let’s hope,” said Harry. “If he’s finally screwed his head on right, then maybe we’ll all have an easier time. Forgive me Rose, but I’m amazed with how you’ve been holding yourself up. It’s been what, almost four weeks of detention? And you’re cool with it. Anyone else would be running mad if they were you.”

Rose shook her head. “Actually, Snape’s not such a bad guy that time of night.” Harry looked at her in a way that suggested that her red hair had turned neon green without her knowledge. “Don’t look at me like that, Harry, I’m serious. I don’t try to provoke him, and he doesn’t try and make me snap at him. We just coexist. You know, what can we do?”

“You are such a confusing girl, you know?” Harry sighed. “I don’t who to be more worried about, you or Snape. By the way, how did Snape look last night? Do you think he’s still fighting off whatever it is he’s got?”

“He seemed fine to me.” Rose was glad that Harry wasn’t so good at picking up on little white lies. She also thought it best to let him assume that her exchange with Snape ended with _I’m-sorry_. Beyond that, she would keep her promise of secrecy to their Potions master, no matter how much she liked Harry.

On a ledge below, they could see Ernie Macmillan entwining his arms around Hannah Abbott’s shoulders. Her arms disappeared into his robes in a way that only suggested that her hands ended up in his back pockets. She rested her chin on his collarbone and stared up at him with a smile. “You know something?” said Rose. “Of all people I thought would suddenly decide to get together, those two were not the first to come to my mind. I’ll give it a week.”

“I’ll give it three more days,” Harry chuckled. “They’re compatible, but not like that. I seem to remember Ernie lusting after you for a while. Did you ever hear about that?”

“I didn’t until he asked me out fifth year and I said no.” Rose shrugged her shoulder, weighed down by books. She looked at Harry, who suddenly looked rather incredulous. “You don’t remember that? I thought Hermione might have said something, or Lavender at least. I felt so guilty; the poor guy couldn’t take rejection. He and Hannah haven’t looked at me the same way since.”

“It sounds like you don’t regret it.”

“No, why should I go out with a guy I’m not interested in? I know what I want.”

“Which might be why you’re still single,” Harry had to jump back to avoid Rose’s quick hand. Her eyes were wide with shock. “Harry!” she squealed.

“Sorry!” Harry barked, seeing the flaw in the joke. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Damn right,” Rose nodded. Offended to say the least, she picked up her downward speed, leaving Harry eight steps up by the time he caught on. He nearly tripped down the stairs trying to catch up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I take that back,” he said with a firm hand on the railing. “It’s just that it’s hard to believe that you’re not seeing anyone, knowing you and all.”

“I know you didn’t mean anything, Harry. But you know it’s not exactly a tragedy to be eighteen and single.”

“You mean you don’t want a boyfriend?”

“I would like one, but I’m alright with waiting for a good guy.” Rose let her eyes wander down to her feet, deliberately avoiding Harry’s emerald gaze. A slight ache gripped her beneath her breast. “That battle took away a lot of great choices.”

“Have you been looking much?” Harry asked. “Not that I’m trying to be nosy or anything. I haven’t seen you out and about with other people”

“No, not really,” said Rose. “With what’s happened since May, it wasn’t on my list of priorities coming back here. But really Harry, I actually don’t mind. I think I like being one of the only Seventh years who don’t feel the urge to breed like bunnies.”

“Aw, cut that out!” Harry groaned, trying to get the image of Hermione and Ron in very interesting positions out of his head. They were not like that, he told himself. They wouldn’t do anything like that. Even if they were, it certainly wouldn’t be there. No, not even then! “It still surprises me though. You are a charming girl. You have to be if you had friends in all the houses.”

All the houses…

Rose suddenly thought of the great unifier that was her old entourage, her three former friends. No one really thought it could be possible for people of all four houses to get along, and yet they did quite successfully for years. She did not think that Harry would ever bother to acknowledge all of them, for some pretty obvious reasons. But age-old rivalries did not have to apply to everyone, and it was good to see that he respected that. Rose was also grateful that Harry knew well enough not to push her further and get her talking about those wonderful people who she so sorely missed. Right on, Hermione!

“All in good time, I guess.” The two of them stepped off the staircase onto the hard stone of the ground floor. Harry tugged his female companion around a hall corner headed west. Rose looked at him as they continued on their way. “Speaking of charming girls, how has Ginny been these days?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Harry smiled. “She says that business has really picked up. She and George have been pulling double shifts at the joke shop. They’re still having bad days without Fred, but they’re happy that they have some money.”

“That’s good,” Rose smiled back. “I’m glad she’s doing well for herself.”

“Yeah, she’s already said that she wants to take me out somewhere nice when we get off for the holidays. I said she’s going to have to beat me to the punch. By the way, she wants me to tell everyone how much she misses us.”

Rose readjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I never did dislike your girlfriend, even if she was the prettiest ginger at Hogwarts.”

“Alright, now you’re trying to trick me.” Harry wagged a finger at her. “You stop that.” Rose giggled at her failed cheek. Harry would never compare Ginny to anyone else, and Rose would never seriously challenge that. Not unless she wanted to find herself in trouble with the Boy-with-too-many-fans.

They easily made their way through the crowded halls, Harry getting enough attention to clear a path. “Where did Hermione say to meet her and Ron?” asked Rose, having never been told of their ultimate destination.

“She said to meet them out in the courtyard. We won’t have the nice weather for that much longer. We ought to enjoy it while it lasts.”

Rose looked around and noticed her surroundings. She did not like coming to this side of the castle, for reasons that she wouldn’t dare to voice. It never bothered her in years gone by, but old memories were hard to ignore. She had been reminded of her singlehood once that day, she let his face find its way to the front of her mind, she didn’t need any more. Though she had done a fine job at keeping that struggle to herself, she still wasn’t ready to confront that heartache. Seeing Hannah and Ernie together had already twisted her gut, longing for the relationship that never was. And though Harry’s comments were innocent, he did nothing but remind her of…no! No, she would not go there again. Rose knew herself; if she thought about him too much, she would cry. She had cried over him enough through the summer months. She would be damned before she let herself break down in front of everyone.

“C’mon, out here,” Harry’s voice urged on. He led Rose into an open cloister, the cool autumn air hitting their faces in a quick blast. From across the way, she could hear Gryffindor’s most famous couple talking. Hermione called out their names. But when Rose looked over to see them sitting on a crumbling bench beneath an ancient dogwood tree, her heels dug into dry soil.

They had to meet there. They just _had_ to meet out there! Everything she had tried to force down came rushing back to her. All she had to do was stand there and she could see his face, hear his voice. Even the wretched air could have smelt like him. It was as though he was watching her, unseen to her living eye. Please, Rose could only hope for something like that! A hard lump formed in her throat as the tree’s delicate leaves fell to tickle at her ankles.

“Hey Rose, what’s the matter?” she heard Harry say. For a split second, Rose had forgotten that other people were there, and that they were now looking at her. She raced to find a response. “Nothing I…uh, well…I, I…I’m sorry. I just remembered something I had to do.”

“What? You forget an assignment?” asked Ron.

“Uh, yeah!” said Rose, taking the cue. She started walking backwards, toward the door where she came. She had to get out of there, get away from that courtyard! “Yeah, I totally forgot about…another class.”

“You can’t put it off for a little while?” Harry’s face scrunched around his glasses.

“No, no, I can’t. Sorry guys, I have to go. I’ll see you in Potions.”

Rose tried to make a calm escape. But when her friends disappeared behind the wall, her pace increased to a quiet sprint. She pressed her lips together, if only to stop the imminent tremble in her chin. She breathed quickly, trying to pacify herself. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away from everyone. Unfortunately, she didn’t get very far before she heard following footsteps and her name on the air. She looked behind her to see who had the gall to go after her. She wasn’t shocked to see thick brown hair blowing back away from the face. “Hermione, go back to the boys.”

“But what happened?” Hermione gasped, still jogging. “Why did you take off like that?”

_‘You don’t remember,’_ Rose thought to herself. She found the door to the girls’ bathroom and shoved it open. Once inside, Rose dropped her bag against the wall and locked herself in an empty cubicle. She sat down on the very edge of the toilet seat as the door creaked open, announcing Hermione’s arrival.

“Rose, what’s wrong?” she asked as she found her friend’s feet under the flimsy door.

“Nothing,” said Rose, her tone getting tighter.

“You hide in loos for no reason? Just tell me what happened back there. Did someone say something to you? Did Malfoy corner you again?”

“No.” Now Rose’s eyes were burning. She bit down on her finger. “You really don’t remember.”

“Remember what?”

“The dogwood,”

“But you used to sit out there all the time.” Hermione stopped when she heard the sniffling behind the cubicle. She hunched over to look under and noticed a clear drop hit the floor. Her heart sank into her stomach to realize that Rose was crying. She rapidly searched her mind. Why would the dogwood tree upset her so much? She really did used to spend quite a bit of time out there. “Did it remind you of your other friends?”

There was no immediate response, most likely to assure of their solitude. But then Hermione heard Rose inhale with a sniff. “It reminded me of him, okay?”

Hermione’s heart suddenly sunk deeper, down into her pelvis. She knew instantly who Rose was talking about, no questions asked. “Oh no!”

“I only liked it out there because he did. He always liked to sit under that damn tree. That’s why you saw me out there all the time; it was to be with him. Didn’t you ever notice how Natasha and Jonny weren’t always with us?”

“Oh, damn it!” Hermione swore. “Rose, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”

Rose sighed. “Think nothing of it.”

Hermione was not very convinced by Rose’s tone, now weighed down with emotion. All she wanted to do was help, but she was shaken by this private, but still abrupt outpouring. She always knew that Rose was coping with losing her long-time crush in the battle. But it was easy to overlook because Rose hardly let anyone see that. A month and a half into term, and she never lost enthusiasm, even through rigorous Quidditch practices, and long weeks at Snape’s mercy. Even when it was only the two of them in their little room, Rose almost never talked about it. To Hermione, it sounded like Rose had bottled up that pain for a little too long. One does not forget love by simply ignoring it.

“Are you okay?” she asked, the only thought that came to her.

“Just leave me alone,” said Rose, letting go of a groan and more tears.

“Are you sure about that? You sound like you need to talk.”

Inside the stall, Rose hunched in on herself. “Please don’t do that. You’re starting to sound like my mother.” She watched Hermione’s feet walk over to the opposing wall. But then she was annoyed to watch her friend lean and slide down to sit on the tile. What did she have to do to show that she did not want to talk?

“You seemed fine the last few weeks,” said Hermione. “Forgive me, but I thought that you were alright.”

“I thought so too,” Rose admitted. “I had all summer to go on like this, and I did. I really thought I was going to be fine, with or without support. But the way that everyone has been hooking up, how the rest of the world is off getting married…”

“It’s hard to watch?”

“Hannah and Ernie were the last straw.”

Hermione shifted on the floor. “Why? I thought you didn’t like Ernie?”

“I don’t, but that’s not the point. It’s the fact that he and Hannah are _trying to date._ I’m convinced that they don’t even like each other like that. They’re just together because everyone else is. It’s getting ridiculous, Hermione. Hannah and Ernie, Neville and Luna, Lavender and Justin –,”

“Aw Rose, I’m sorry,” said Hermione. “Are Ron and I –,”

“You’re not!” Rose snapped.

“But –,”

“Trust me, you and Ron are not my problem.” Rose dabbed at her now red eyes with her robe sleeve. “I’m not mad at you two for any reason. But think about it for a minute. If he hadn’t died that night, if he came back with me, if it was him I was walking around with and not Harry… at the rate everyone is going, he could have been more than my best friend.”

Hermione sighed. She remembered how close Rose had been with that boy, regardless of the fact that he was a Slytherin. They outdid everyone and every expectation to become the best of friends. No one they knew ever honestly thought that there could have been something else there, and Hermione wondered why she never made the connection until Rose told her for herself. But she still sympathized. She knew exactly how it felt to fall for her best friend.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “If he did feel that way about you, he very well could have been.”

“But we’ll never know that, will we?”

Hermione was growing frustrated with Rose’s stubbornness. But it was very true. She had watched those two from afar for a very long time, and to her, it never appeared that Rose’s recently deceased friend ever looked at her in any other way. She was just his friend as far as anyone was concerned. And to Rose’s utter misfortune, there was no one who would have been able to tell her different.

Hermione stretched out her legs. “Rose, I didn’t know him very well, but I’m sure that he loved you dearly.”

“If he had loved me, he would have made a pass at me at least once,” said Rose, swallowing what remained of her tears. “In case I have to remind you, he didn’t.”

“But he still loved you as his friend,” Hermione reaffirmed. “He obviously saw a lot in you as a person, or else he wouldn’t have bothered to ever talk to you. I heard that the other Slytherins used to take the mickey out of him for hanging out with you, but he ignored them. To me, that says a lot about him. He cared about you, I know he did.”

The Head Girl waited for a response. All she heard behind the door was a rustling and some sparse sniveling. Finally after what felt like an hour, the lock rattled and the cubicle door opened with a long squeak. Rose emerged with a crumpled wad of bath tissue in her hand, wiping away the offending salty liquid running down her cheeks. She walked over to the sinks and leaned on white porcelain. She noticed Hermione standing up in the mirror.

“I’m so sorry, Mione,” said Rose, regaining her calm control. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this.”

“I understand, it still hurts,” Hermione came up behind her, making eye contact by means of reflection. “I know you really miss him. It’s alright to mourn someone you loved. You can’t stop yourself, not unless you have a heart of stone.”

“I wish I did, I’m sure it feels better than this.” Rose stuffed her tissues into her pocket. She looked back into the mirror and was dismayed by her own appearance. Turning on the tap, Rose smeared cold water over her eyes, hoping it would reduce the puffiness and the horrendous red streaks. “I didn’t think being in that courtyard would hit me so hard. I’ve avoided it long enough. I hoped it would be alright by now.”

“It’s not going to happen overnight,” said Hermione. “If you really were in love with this guy, you can’t expect to get over him just like that. I mean, look at Professor Snape.”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Please, even you have to say that eighteen years is a bit extreme.”

“You still feel for him though.” Hermione cocked her head to Rose, who thought about that for a moment. Snape had never openly spoken about his love for the late Lily Potter, but Harry had privately told a sparse few what he knew. Rose thought it was a tragic tale if she ever heard one. “Yeah, I guess I do,” she said. Given her own situation, how could she not?

Hermione came closer to Rose’s turned back, still staring into the mirror. It had been way too long since she had seen Rose like this. The usually confident Gryffindor just wasn’t there. All she saw was the weakened, heartbroken soul that Rose fought to keep inside. Pity tightly clenched Hermione’s heart, doubtful that her words were really helping. But there was always the old fashion way of showing condolences.

She tapped Rose on the shoulder. When she turned her head, Hermione opened her arms. At first, Rose was hesitant. But upon further thought, this gesture seemed all the more welcoming. She didn’t want someone to tell her that everything would be alright. What she wanted was a hug.

Rose allowed herself to be wrapped in Hermione’s embrace, her arms coming around to squeeze back. For a long stretch of time, the girls stayed this way, Hermione comforting Rose as a mother would her child. Rose finally let her tense body relax, beyond relieved. She once thought that she had lost this comfort along with her true friends. She thought that death and despair had robbed her of moments like this. Hermione really was a wonderful person. Not just a wonderful person, a saint!

Maybe she hadn’t lost all of her true friends.

Rose was the one who pulled away to get another look at her eyes, which had gone down some with the icy water. Hermione kept an arm around her waist. “Cheer up; it won’t be this way forever. It will get easier. If anything, just remember that no matter what, he’s in a better place now.”

“I know,” said Rose with a sigh.

“Hey, I just had an idea.” Hermione went to retrieve Rose’s things. “You’ve been more comfortable with Professor Snape the last few weeks. Maybe you could talk to him about this sometime.”

“I don’t think Snape and I will ever be that comfortable with each other.”

“It still can’t hurt to try,”

“I think it would. No.”

Hermione glided back over to the sink basins and handed Rose her bag. “You should think about talking to someone, though. What you’ve been doing probably won’t work forever.”

“Maybe I will one day,” said Rose. “It’s still too soon. At least you understand that. My mum wanted to haul me off to a Muggle shrink after a while, like that would make it any better.” Rose giggled to herself, remembering her mother’s frustrated ranting on those hot summer nights. Happy to see some humor, Hermione laughed along with her.

“So are you okay for now?” she asked. “Are you ready to go back to the guys? We can move somewhere else if you like.”

“No, no,” said Rose, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I just want some time to myself, is that okay?”

“If that’s what you need. What should I tell Harry and Ron?”

“Tell them _the truth_. Tell them that I used to sit with my friends out there, and I got upset thinking about them.”

“But what about –,”

“No, don’t tell them about all this.” Rose cut Hermione off. “They don’t have a clue about how I really felt about him, and I want to keep it like that.”

If Hermione had any say in the situation, Harry and Ron would have known about Rose’s little secret a long time ago. After all, she had the confidence that they would hold it as closely as she did. However, her bond to Rose was something that she wasn’t entirely ready to risk. She took a step back toward the door. “Alright, so I guess I’ll see you in Potions.”

“See you then,” Rose nodded. Hermione turned to leave, but stopped short. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” Again, Rose nodded with a smile. Though very unconvinced, the brunette witch left to return to two very puzzled young men.

**~HP~**

Rose did not stay in that bathroom for much longer, deciding to venture back out into the halls and into life. Once again, she found herself on an aimless trek. Why was it that she had no idea where to wander off to? She wanted to be by herself, but walking alone through several corridors made her see the flaw in that. How could a person desire seclusion, but still be so lonely?

Every time she passed a window, she looked out at the orange and gold leaves blowing in the wind. Every odd glance, she would catch sight of the red leaves of that old dogwood, and her insides would twist. She breathed away the need to weep. She regretted never telling Natasha, or Jonny. If they had known the depth of her pain, if they had known just how shattering his death had been, then maybe they could have come through for her. They could have been there when she needed them most. He was their friend too, they should have anyway. And yet they left her there alone for their own sakes. As much as she loved them, Rose could not suppress the resentment she felt towards the former Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

Her wanderings took her to the outside of the Great hall, where the massive stairwell waited just beyond. She surrendered to the possibility that she might end up walking around every corner of the castle until she had to turn around and make her way down to the dungeons. At least she would have enough time to think of something to discuss with Snape when seven thirty rolled around. Yes, thankfully Snape had returned to the customary detention call-time. But either way, Rose didn’t really care. No matter what Snape demanded of her, she didn’t mind doing it anymore. She didn’t mind being there, and she didn’t mind Snape. She pushed aside her gloomy reveries to once again question her own mental state.

She had just passed the staffroom when she was stopped by a chipper call. “Well, what do you know?! Fancy meeting you here, Rose.” Rose turned to the open door where the warm air was wafting out into the open hall. “Hello Professor Wicker.”

“Such a funny coincidence,” said the professor, tossing her thick brown hair over her shoulder. “I was just telling my colleagues here about that rousing debate you gave in class this morning.”

“Were you now?” Rose smiled uncomfortably, not wanting to tug poor little Wicker into her problems. Inside the forbidden zone that was the tiny staffroom, she heard Sprout and Flitwick laughing. Just behind Wicker’s shoulder, she could see Snape seated before the fireplace, in the same low armchair she remembered from her third year boggart encounter. He had a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ in his lap. The Potions professor looked up past Wicker and acknowledged Rose’s presence with a short nod. She responded with a weak smile.

“Oh yes, I couldn’t resist. I have heard my fair share of arguments, but never in my life have I heard such a well-rounded discussion over whether the Prime Minister or the monarchy is the true center of the Muggle government. I’ll tell you, there are wizards more than twice your age who don’t even come close to your aptitude.”

Rose blushed as the teachers laughed pleasantly, now joined by another man’s voice. She glanced at Snape, and was a bit glad to see that it wasn’t him. “It’s nothing, Professor. Anyone in the class could do that if they just watched Muggle news networks. It’s the same thing. I’ll be honest, I think I quoted the BBC at one point.”

“It was still an excellent job,” said Wicker, resting a hand on her hip. “I really hope that no one tries to tell you different because your place is in Muggle Relations. You are just as familiar with their policies as with ours. Allow me to be bold; I believe that you could have even had a future in Muggle politics if you hadn’t already dismissed that notion.”

“Cassandra please, you’re embarrassing the poor girl.” Lupin came up behind Wicker to pass her at the door. Behind him followed Snape, who had risen from his place without much notice. Red-faced, Rose nodded her gratitude to the peaceful werewolf. Wicker giggled at him. “Oh cut it out, Remus. It’s fun to have a student who really knows what they’re talking about.”

“That’s one of the joys of the job,” said Lupin. He and Snape stood in the hall as the older witch bid Rose a good afternoon, reminding her of the readings for next class. When the door came to a creaky close, Snape rolled his dark eyes.

“Is there ever a time when that woman is not in a good mood?”

“Not much, sir,” said Rose, shifting her feet. She hoped that Snape would not retaliate for last night with bitter words. Words could not describe her relief when all Snape did was shake his head with a slight sneer. “I would tell you what ruins a good day for her, but even I don’t know that yet.”

“It’s nice to see that you two are on speaking terms,” Lupin commented with a pleasantly raised brow, looking between the two of them. “After yesterday, I thought that you would avoid each other like the plague. I really am sorry about what happened with you, Miss Beckett.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize, Professor Lupin.” Rose looked at Snape while she spoke to the DADA professor. She almost wanted to say that she already got her apology, but she did not think that Snape would appreciate that much. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Snape pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. But even if that was intended as an attack, he would not allow himself a repeat of yesterday’s performance. There was no need to inform Beckett that it actually _was_ Lupin’s fault that he had been so livid, especially when she wasn’t looking for the answer. If she was as smart as she thought she was, she might have already made the connection.

“If it helps, I had Parkinson come up early last night as well,” said Lupin as he cocked his head at Snape, almost in a way of silently going _ha-ha_ to his old school rival. “It didn’t seem fair to me that you serve more time when the two of you got into trouble together.” Rose let her jaw drop down, and her eyes sprung open. It was soft surprise, but surprise all the same.

Snape growled deep in his throat, holding onto his composure in the face of their student. He turned to her, tucking his newspaper under his arm. “While on the subject of your detention, Miss Beckett, I would like for you to bring a good portion of your ink stores with you tonight. With what I have set up for you, you will need them.”

Rose nodded. “Yes sir.”

The Potions master turned to return down to the dungeons, making one last glance at the quiet, not quite nervous student. “I suppose I’ll see you within the hour,” he said. Rose nodded yet again with a gentle smirk. “Good day, Professor.”

Both Rose and Lupin watched as Snape rounded the corner and descended down into the dank lower halls. “It is good that the two of you are doing what you can to get along with each other,” said Lupin. “He’s been under quite a lot of stress lately.”

“I understand,” Rose sighed, sinking back into her bad mood. It suddenly felt weird to know everything that she did, with Lupin obviously unaware of that fact. Save for the headmaster and possibly a few Slytherins, she likely knew more than anyone else. She felt an odd knot in her already warped insides. “He’s never asked me to bring ink before. I wonder what he meant by that.”

“Perhaps he’s going to have you write lines. I shudder to think how many if he wants you to bring a good chunk of your own supply.”

Lupin lightly chuckled to himself. Rose tried to laugh as well, but her face quickly fell long again. Lupin grew concerned when he got a look at the girl’s face. She looked as though she was trying as hard to keep her poise and serenity as Snape was these days. To Lupin, that face held none of the charm he had become accustomed to. True, Defense against the Dark Arts was not the easiest of classes for her. But this was different from the flustered disappointment that he occasionally saw. That face said something entirely different, gave away an entirely different emotion. He looked into Rose’s face and only saw sadness. He should know, Nymphadora Tonks had left him with enough of it. He didn’t know what this young witch had been through to end up standing there like that. But it was evident that whatever those wounds were, they still hadn’t healed. The red tint in her pretty blue eyes made that more apparent.

“I recall that you were having some trouble in yesterday’s class,” he said, trying to make more conversation. “Were you able to figure out the homework assignment?”

“Um, no, not really,” said Rose. “Harry tried to help me, but I still don’t quite get it.”

“Really? Harry couldn’t help you?” Lupin raised his sandy eyebrows in stunned surprise.

“He doesn’t know it yet. So could you keep that hushed up for me, please?” Rose pleaded. She knew how close Boy-wonder was to the wolf hero.

“Of course I will. I just thought that with Harry’s natural talent, you were in some good hands.”

“We can’t be good at everything, I guess.”

Lupin sighed sympathetically. _‘The poor dear,’_ he thought. He wondered why she was wandering around alone when it seemed like she needed someone to back her up. She wasn’t terribly broken up, but she still looked like she could use some company. “Well, you still have some time before your next class. If you want, you can come with me and I can explain the lesson to you again, give you a few more pointers. Would you like that?”

Rose thought for a moment. It wasn’t like her to actually consider remedial lessons in anything. But it wasn’t as though she much better to do with what remained of the break. This could be just the distraction she had been looking for. So for better or for worse, she nodded, accepting Lupin’s offer. She turned to follow him up to his classroom. Internally, she was telling Hermione that she would have some company that day after all.


	18. Home-grown Half-blood

“I have to ask you Miss Beckett, why Muggles?”

Snape relaxed into the wingchair before his office desk, a book in his lap. He threw his voice across the room to where his storeroom door hung open. Rose was perched on top of a small ladder with a loaded quill in one hand, and a dusty jar of salamander hearts in the other. Her jar of ink was stuck to a lower step by means of a Fixing Charm. When she suggested to Snape all those weeks ago that he rewrite the labels on his personal stock of ingredients, she didn’t exactly mean for her to end up doing it for him.  

“Where did that come from?” asked Rose, leaning under the arch of the door to look at her teacher.

“Well, this afternoon had to be the two-hundredth time I listened to another professor going on about your supposedly unrivaled ability to understand Muggles and everything that they do.”

Rose giggled, in a much better mood than the last time she encountered the Potions professor. “Ah, Professor Wicker is exaggerating, rather grossly I should say.”

“I’m sure she is, and it’s nice to see that you agree.” Snape flipped a page in a casual manner. “But when you are subjected to such ridiculous rantings for so long, you cannot help but begin to wonder. How did all that start?”

“The same way as my interest in potion making,” Rose reached for a small bottle of what turned out to be goat’s blood and reached down to dip her quill. “I started in Muggle Studies my third year and I realized that I had a knack for the subject. So I kept going with it.”

“What was it that appealed to you?” the Potions master asked. The question, one he had been silently asking for as long as Rose had her Muggle-loving reputation, had been nagging at him for a good part of the evening. He thought that given his new ability to communicate with the Gryffindor, he would finally have his answer. She was there anyway, and she had no fear.

“It’s difficult to explain, sir,” said Rose. “There are lots of things about Muggles that are interesting to me. They’re especially interesting when you look at them from a Wizarding perspective. It’s fun to look at their way of life compared to ours.”

Snape looked at her from underneath a cocked black brow. “It doesn’t seem that difficult to master, especially for a witch such as yourself. If I’m not mistaken, your mother is a Muggle.”

“She is,” Rose said with a careful nod.

“And I assume that you were primarily raised by her?”

“I was,”

“Then it would appear that your _natural talent_ is really just your upbringing being put to good use.”

“You know, you’re not the first to make that assumption,” said Rose. “Professor, there’s more to it than that. Alright, I’ll give you some credit. I did walk into the class with the advantage of having grown up around Muggles, but I didn’t get by on that alone. What’s gotten the attention of Professors Burbage and Wicker is my frame of thought. Other wizards hear about what goes on in the Muggle world and to them, it might as well be another planet. I just don’t see it that way.”

“You lived your life going between the two worlds. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you did not.”

“It isn’t that, Professor. It’s like this, in a manner of speaking. When people talk about wizards and Muggles, they only seem to focus on the differences. But the only difference is magic. Other than that, we’re all just people. Sure, you and I can do some pretty cool things with wands. But we’re still human. Take magic out of the equation, and you wouldn’t be any different than any other man off the street.”

“It sounds to me that you believe that wizards and Muggles are equals,” said Snape. “That is a very dangerous philosophy, as I’m sure you already know.”

“I never said that,” Rose barked. “Don’t try and put words in my mouth. I don’t necessarily believe that we’re equals; I think I’d be dead right now if I went about preaching that. What I mean to say is that while our world has its good things, the Muggle world does as well. Believe it or not, Muggles have come up with some bloody good ideas of their own. What I try to do is find those finer points, and then try to see their bright side, maybe find ways to incorporate them into our lifestyle.”

“What you’re doing is messing around with the foundations of our culture,” said Snape. “We shouldn’t have to integrate Muggle customs into ours.”

“Why not?”

“There are reasons why we separated ourselves from them centuries ago. I sat through the same History of Magic lessons that you did. Do I need to remind you that the people who you adore so much are descended from people who burned our ancestors alive?”

“So Muggles shouldn’t be forgiven for medieval persecutions?” Rose chose to stare down at her own attempts to copy Snape’s handwriting, rather than looking at the man himself. “If you have to ask my opinion, we cannot blame them for what they did to wizards all that time ago. It probably would have happened anyway. Groups of people have been going after other groups of people for as long as they’ve walked the earth. We weren’t the first, and we certainly weren’t the last. Races, nationalities, religions; you name it, they’ve been targeted. And countless Muggles have died at the hands of other Muggles for such feeble causes. You ever hear the story of the World Wars?”

“You make a decent point,” Snape admitted after a moment of reflection.

“You see? And you know what? We’re no better! You-know-who going after Muggle-borns, same thing. It’s just the human psyche. Some people are hardwired to do that. So why should we treat Muggles the way we do when in reality, we’re not so far off? That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

Snape rolled his eyes with a sarcastic smirk. “You know Miss Beckett, I always knew that you were a Muggle enthusiast hiding behind childhood experience. What else would spur you on to NEWT level Muggle Studies?”

“I hardly consider myself an enthusiast.” Rose’s face disappeared as she reached for another jar. “Let me remind you that my allegiance is to the Wizarding world, regardless of my upbringing.”

“I’m sure it is, but as you said, you have Muggle family. No matter what you do in our world, there is always a part of you that is stuck with them.”

“And unlike some, I don’t mind. This is armadillo bile, right?” Rose showed him the jar she had been trying to read. Snape glared at her and told her that with her experience, she ought to know for herself. Carefully, Rose unscrewed the lid, brought the brim up to her face, and took a quick whiff. “Oh! Oh yeah, that’s armadillo bile!” Face scrunched around her nose, she wrote it out on the aging parchment stuck to the side.

“Are you sure about that?” Snape inquired, engrossed in his book. Rose jabbed the feather of her quill at him. “Don’t test me, Professor Snape. I remember that smell.” She went back to her work. Snape looked up to watch her ignoring him.

“What would you say if I said that I believe that your love for Muggles is _only_ because of your family?”

“Firstly, you’re only talking about half my family,” said Rose. “And secondly, it isn’t exactly unwarranted. I lived with Muggles for the first eleven years of my life. My dad didn’t even bring me into our world. He never brought me to any magic establishments, just kept me with the Muggles. I never knew any better.”

Snape quietly took in this information, but his mind ran into some sort of invisible wall. His book snapped shut onto his index finger, not causing so much as a flinch. “Wait a minute. You don’t mean to say that you had no idea about the Wizarding world at all when you were a child.”

“I didn’t have a clue that my father was a wizard until an owl tapped on my window with my first Hogwarts letter,” Rose explained. Snape was a bit surprised. Alistair had never been too close to his daughter, but that seemed a bit extreme even to him, a fellow Slytherin. Rose continued. “But even so, that was all I knew, and that was what I went back to every summer. It was my life, plain and simple. I didn’t hate it back then, and I don’t hate it now.”

“Ah, but you already said that you did not know any better,” said Snape.

“Ah to you, Professor, I learned,” Rose playfully sneered. Both of them seemed to disregard the level of comfort between them. “Believe me when I say this. I like our world better. If I didn’t, I would have left a long time ago.”

“I would love to see you try. You don’t know how many times I have heard wizards complaining and wishing that they could give up magic forever and live as Muggles, but I don’t think it would be that simple. And you are still quite young. Could you honestly see yourself going through the rest of your life like that?”

“No, that’s why I’m still here,” said Rose. “Besides, that would be running away from what I really am. I’d just be setting myself up for a long, unhappy life. Even my mother agrees with me, and with her, I couldn’t ask for much more.”

Severus was struck by that comment. What did she mean by that? But since Rose did not look or sound hot and bothered, he dismissed it as he continued to listen to Rose’s voice, echoing down from the high shelves of his storeroom. “But even if I had to give up my magic and go back to my life before Hogwarts, I don’t think I’d be too broken up about it. After all, the Muggles I knew back home were very lovely people. I kind of wish they all were like that – whoa!”

Snape looked up to see why Rose had stopped so suddenly. He was startled to see that she had stood unsteadily on the top step of the ladder, which rattled under her weight. It seemed that she had nearly lost her footing, and froze to regain her balance. “Beckett, what are you doing?” Snape’s tone heightened to tense levels as he watched the perilously perched student.

“I’m trying to get at the stuff up here,” said Rose, straining to reach.

“Well, those are expensive ingredients you are handling. And you’re not exactly a featherweight. Get down from there before something happens. I really do not want to explain any injuries to Madam Pomfrey.”

Rose carefully climbed down the ladder, taking her quill with her. “But Professor, you have my wand. How else am I supposed to reach those jars?”

“You could have just said something before deciding to test your balance.” Snape rose from his chair and walked over to the open door where the witch waited. He reached into folds of fabric to present her with her wand. Rose looked at the Potions professor with an air of pleasant surprise. He was actually allowing her to use magic this time? He actually trusted her with that? This couldn’t possibly last longer than ten minutes. But Rose was willing to take the risk that came with opportunity. She grasped the handle as Snape gave her a relaxed glare. “This is a privilege I will allow you this one time. Do not make me regret it.”

Rose climbed back up the ladder and went back to her work, summoning down jars with quiet charms. Likewise, Snape retreated back to his chair. He tried to carry on with his reading, but he kept finding his attention being drawn to Beckett, or rather to Beckett’s feet and legs. The girl was everything he had assumed she was, and yet she could fight for her beliefs in a way that didn’t make him want to yank his lanky black hair out. She was one of the only Muggle lovers he had yet met who was persuasive enough to get him to at least see her logic. And her logic wasn’t even half-bad. What was it about her, Snape thought, that this was possible? He wondered what it was like to be in Cassandra’s place. She was well-mannered enough in his presence. But in that element, she had to be something else.

_‘She has to be absolutely charming in that class. Perhaps Cassandra wasn’t exaggerating as much as I thought.’_

Some time had passed by uninterrupted when a light grunting echoed out of the storeroom. Snape looked over in light confusion; that sounded like grunts of pain. “Miss Beckett, are you alright?” he asked.

The response was the ladder continuing to squeak as Rose climbed down again, her fingers wrapped around her wand. “Professor, can I take a break?” she said, rather bravely upon further thought. “My hands are really starting to cramp up.”

“Is that all? Beckett, you are pathetic.”

“Please sir? I’ve been at it for hours, and I’ve almost got three walls done. I won’t take very long, I promise.”

Snape wanted to sneer at Rose for such ridiculous pleading. But he changed his mind when he got a look at the clock resting at the edge of his desk. Perhaps nearly three hours was a long enough stretch, and three walls weren’t so bad. So rather reluctantly, he sighed and motioned to the chair facing his. “Very well, but only for a few minutes.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Rose, flexing her aching fingers. She turned around and lightly flicked her wand, detaching the near-empty inkwell from the ladder step. Snape watched on as Rose went to the corner where her handbag rested on the floor. The Gryffindor jammed the cork back into the neck of the bottle and placed it back inside, exchanging it for a small package. She sat down in the chair, and Snape noticed the wrappings made famous by Honeyduke’s Sweet Shop. Rose broke off a square of chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

“Miss Beckett, must you eat that now?” said Snape.

“There’s never a bad time for chocolate. Do you want some?” Rose snapped off another chunk and held it out to him. Snape however politely refused. He didn’t want to take any chances of Dumbledore getting wind of this and somehow ending up with a candy bowl on his desk. Rose sat back and bit the square in half.

“I’m just curious,” Snape commented as he too sank back into his chair. “What aspects of Muggle culture do you think could do us some good?”

“Um…little things,” said Rose. “I’m not calling for an overhaul, just little tidbits here and there.”

“Like what?”

Rose further peeled back the wrapping in her hands. “Things like music, conveniences, sweets, those sorts of things. But for me, it’s mostly been technology. There are probably a lot of Muggle Relations Specialists who would strongly disagree. But you know, it won’t be long before the new millennium. We could stand to pick up something more, and we don’t necessarily have to rely on electricity. I plan on writing my last Muggle Studies thesis on the advances and advantages of today’s technology.”

“It sounds as though you’ve given this a fair bit of thought.” Snape cocked his brow at her.

“More than that, Professor. I’ve been experimenting for the last year or two. I want to be able to get appliances to work by magical power alone. I’ve got a CD player up in my dormitory that I managed to tweak into working with no batteries. I’d go further, but everything else goes haywire while I’m here. I can’t quite figure it out. It annoys the hell out of me. I miss a lot of that stuff.” Rose glanced up to notice the incredulous stare coming from Snape’s chair. “I must confess, it was all a guilty pleasure of mine back home. When I’m home for the summer holidays, you’ll mostly find me planted in front of the television. When you don’t see much of your wizard friends outside school, you find that there isn’t a great deal to do.”

“Where is home for you?” asked Snape. He couldn’t help but wonder where a witch like her comes from, if not from the Beckett estate in Ireland.

In the past, Rose might have been extremely cautious. But looking at Snape now, he was not nearly as threatening. She couldn’t detect anything sinister in the question, it sounded like nothing more than calm inquiry. She humored him. “Meadow Hill, tiny little Muggle village.”

“Where is that, exactly?”

“It’s in Kent, about an hour and a half away from Canterbury.” Snape nodded as Rose spoke. “But you wouldn’t know it. It might as well be in the middle of nowhere. It’s a good twenty, thirty minutes before you hit the nearest railway station. I always joked that the bridge into town connects us to the rest of the world.”

“Forgive my ignorance, but I would have assumed that your family lived in London.”

“I’ll bet I know who gave you that impression,” said Rose, sarcasm imbedded in her calm tone. “You’re right. I was born in London, and we lived there for around two years. But when my dad left, Mum took me back to Kent where she grew up.”

“It sounds like it was a quiet life.”

“It was,” Rose raised flaxen eyebrows, twisting the ends of her red hair with her fingers. “So, so quiet. There have never been more than three-hundred people living there. My mother always did say that it did me good to be away from the city, away from those nasty berks. But she was right. Meadow Hill was a wonderful place to grow up.”

“Why was that?” asked Snape, making light conversation.

“Ah Professor, you couldn’t imagine a sweeter village in Britain. It’s such a beautiful place. You should see it in the early summer, so lush and green.” The Potions master tried to picture the village, seeing a quaint town invaded by foliage. It certainly was a stark contrast to the brick and concrete of Spinner’s End. Rose went on. “I think being so out of the way from other towns made it all the more pleasant. To me, London was another world. The Muggles in Meadow Hill are delightful, much more delightful than a lot of others I’ve met in the UK.”

“I have a hard time believing something like that,” Snape interrupted. He snapped a page over at the thought of the terrifically annoying Muggles he had the misfortune to cross paths with over the years. Really, Rose loved them already as it was. Did she have to make a particular band of them sound like a choir of angels?

“I know,” said Rose, shaking her head. “I know it sounds ridiculous. But it’s true.”

“Oh yeah, and what happened when you started having spontaneous bursts of magic like we all did?”

“Well…um…I did get several odd looks when that happened. A few of them actually did say that I was a little odd to them, couldn’t really say why. But most of them were decent enough to keep it to themselves. My family was all local. If people were ever gossiping about us, we knew about it.”  

“Your family was close?”

“Oh, the Waverlys were always a tight knit group. They’ve always banded together through thick and thin. I’m glad that it didn’t change when I came along.”

“Why would it?” asked Snape, a bit confused. He cocked his head to the side.

“Because of my father,” Rose said rather bluntly. “In eighteen years, I haven’t heard one nice thing about him from them. I’ve heard everything from he shouldn’t have left us, to they shouldn’t have gotten married. My grandmother says time and time again that my mother should never have gone out with him. Frankly, she thinks they never should have met. Don’t you think that’s saying that I shouldn’t exist?”

Snape couldn’t voice his answer. He hadn’t expected to get this much response to his simple curious question. Then again, it wasn’t too shocking to hear of such opinions of the girl’s father. Alistair wasn’t very pleasant to many wizards, forget about Muggles. To be honest, it was shocking to hear that Alistair had actually met his former in-laws. “I cannot say, Miss Beckett. However, I don’t believe your grandmother meant anything towards you.”

Rose shrugged. “Fair enough, you don’t know any of them. Not that it matters anyway. For the most part, I’ve gotten along alright without him around. And spending a few weekends with him in London didn’t do any harm. I half-expected that they thought I would turn out like him.”

“They don’t know that you’re a witch, do they?”

“What? Oh no,” Rose abruptly shook her head. “No one knows that I’m a witch, just my parents. What kind of a traitor do you take me for?” She noticed Snape subtly breathe a slight sigh of relief. She rolled her blue eyes. Just because she liked Muggles did not mean that she would jeopardize Wizarding secrecy.

“In my youth, I might have called you that,” Snape explained, not coming as a surprise to his young student. “But not tonight. I’m sorry, but I must know. Which one of your parents decided on that one, as it seems clear to me that you had no say in it.”

“Actually, it’s one of the few things they agreed on together. Dad’s excuse was that since his life was secretive, it would be fitting that mine be as well. But really, it went beyond that. The Waverlys are a nice family, but they wouldn’t appreciate that Mum’s ex-husband could use magic, and so can I.” Rose leaned forward, stuffing the remains of her chocolate bar into her handbag. “You see, they come from a conservative background. My grandparents were aggressive church-goers in every sense of the word, and I cannot remember a time when they weren’t far right in politics. They had five children and expected every single one of them to follow their example, especially Mum. She’s the youngest and the only girl in the bunch. Well as it turns out, Mummy dearest wasn’t so terribly like that after all. And as a consequence, I’m not either.”

Snape smirked, not totally aware of himself. “You never did strike me as the traditionalist type, Beckett.”

“Yes, I guess it’s my Beckett side,” said Rose. “Even without magic, I’m pretty broadminded. I’ll tell you sir; it makes for some interesting family reunions. At sixteen, I was arguing with aunts, uncles, _and_ my grandmother over the stupidest of things. I’ve heard it all from labor issues to why the Royal family is so important to us, as English people.”

“Oh, so they are _those Muggles,_ ” Snape half-groaned, rubbing at his pale temple.

“The whole lot of them,” exclaimed Rose. “Church-going nationalists, every last one of them! My grandmother is the worst. I’ve never met a bigger royalist outside of London. She still owns and uses an entire tea set from when the Prince of Wales was married. Professor Snape, my middle name is Elizabeth. Can you guess where that came from?”

“Yes, I see,” nodded Snape.

“So you understand, Professor. My family’s life was just not compatible with the one that I was ultimately destined for. They never would have welcomed a witch into their folds, not over their dead bodies. And my mum knew this about her family, and she knew that she could never tell any of them, even if she had wanted to. So she never did. It’s just me and her… and my dad.”

The blabbering Beckett might not have known much for herself, but Severus felt like he knew what she was talking about. Your whole childhood, surrounded by people who did not understand you, could not understand you. And the bitterness in Rose’s voice gave away that lack of support. But he had to hand it to her. She had grown up with strictly old-fashioned relatives, but still came out with a terrifically open mind. She had to, being so obstinately stuck with her paternal heritage.

“It’s interesting how you could possibly make Muggles your life’s work, and yet you complain about the ones in your family.”

“I don’t know if it’s really complaining,” said Rose. “They are atrociously annoying, I’m forced to live a secret double-life, and I can’t do a thing about it. But that’s just the way it is. And I was lucky that I was exposed to such a wide range of people, both here and there. I got to see that not everyone is like that. You know, you can’t hate the world just because of how you were raised.”

Snape wanted to snap at Rose so badly. What did she know? A man had every right to hate the world, for whatever reason he damn well pleased! But what reason did he have for her? It wasn’t her fault that he was jacked up on pregnancy hormones at the oddest hours. Unlike her contemporaries, at least she was trying to stay on the right side of his better moods.

_‘She’s a good kid. Merlin, don’t ever let Lupin hear that. I’ll never hear the end of it.’_

He might have let Rose continue if he had not casually glanced at the clock. He couldn’t keep her that much later, not unless he wanted Minerva to corner him at lunchtime and lecture him like he was still her student. He had to rest, and evidently so did Rose. He didn’t need to be told twice. Before the girl could get a word in, he pointed to the storeroom. She ought to write faster now that she had a bar’s worth of sugar coursing through her veins.


	19. The apple can never fall far

“I can’t believe I forgot the chapter! Why did I forget that chapter?! Snape’s gonna throttle me.”

“Ron, relax!” Harry did his best to try to calm his panicking mate as they pushed their way through crowded halls. But the Quidditch Keeper was already long gone. He had let procrastination get the best of him, and that resulted in said mistakenly ignored Potions chapter. The realization only came after overhearing Hermione and Rose discussing the material for that day’s double class, which they were currently walking to. “I’ll bet you’re not the only one. There have to be others who didn’t read it.”

“I dunno, Harry. Snape has it out for me.”

“What makes you think a ridiculous thing like that?” asked Hermione as she squeezed her boyfriend’s hand.

“I don’t know that either. I can just feel it, have ever since that first week of term. He’s just been waiting for the right moment to strike me down.”

Harry failed to understand. His emerald eyes squinted under a wrinkled brow. “Your point?”

“Look what happened the – hey, watch it! – the one time Rose didn’t do her work.”

“It made me prioritize, didn’t it?” said Rose from behind Harry, narrowly avoiding the group of fifth year boys that had trampled passed. The Boy-who-lived-twice chuckled. “And then some.” Rose’s eyes rolled in spite of it.

“She’s right, Ron,” said Hermione. “I was up out of bed right along with you, and I still managed to finish the reading. It’s October, time to look alive.”

“It still won’t help me in class today.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Harry. Ron shook his head, looking no less cynical. “Ha-ha, I don’t think so.”

“Ron,” Rose pushed herself forward. “Take it from me, you will be. I peeked at Snape’s lesson plan while he was in the loo last night. The Antidepressant Draught is complex, but it’s not as difficult as it sounds.”

“Oh sure, you say that, Miss I-got-a-higher-mark-than-Hermione-Granger.”

“Stab me in the heart, why don’t you?” Hermione’s voice pitched up in her exaggeration. Across the way, Rose was shaking her head, red hair falling over her shoulders. “That’ll barely last another week,” she said. “Anyway, I don’t think you have much to worry about. And Snape seems to be feeling better, so we shouldn’t have too much trouble.”

“I still wonder what was wrong with him,” said Hermione. “What do you think, Rose?”

“I dunno, Mione. If he was ever suffering, he never let me see it. The man is too damn proud for that. And it’s not like I ask.” Rose let her gaze hit the wall, fibbing in the face of her new batch of besties. _‘No one else needs to know what goes on. Why should they?’_

“Hold on, you went through his stuff?” said Harry, almost stopping in his tracks. “Sounds like something Malfoy would do. At that rate, you might be man enough to be one.”

“I didn’t go through his stuff,” the ginger witch half-denied, half-whined. “It was sitting on his desk, a juicy secret just within reach.”

“You ever think about doing that more often?” Ron joked, chuckling under his breath.

“No, no, and again, no. I was dancing with the devil when I did that. Why try my luck again, end up getting in trouble all over again? No, no more trouble please.”

“Oh yeah, you and Snape are cool now, right?”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s way better than it was. I actually kind of like it, so I’d rather not mess up.”

Both the boys looked at Rose with slow, stunned confusion. Right now, Hermione was thinking about how Rose could have picked a better time and place to drop that on them. In fact, it might have been a better idea to hide behind the mask of utter loathing. “Alright,” said Ron. “Who’s got you Imperio-ed and what for?”

Rose smirked at those funny stares. “Oh, grow up.”

The Potions door was just opening when they approached. Many of the class had already queued up outside, Malfoy and Parkinson at the head of the pack. Rose had done her best to stay out of their way outside class, with Harry sometimes acting as impromptu security. But that didn’t stop the female Slytherin from trying to rile her up, especially when a certain greasy professor was nearby. Sure enough, as soon as Rose was within her sights, Parkinson made a move to approach, her lips melting into her face. _‘When is she going to get over it?’_ Rose thought.

Neither girl had the time to open her mouth. Harry thrust his arm out in front of Rose in a move to defend. To the surprise of many, including the four Gryffindors, Malfoy did the same for his other half. “Pansy please, not now.”

“Thank you, Mister Malfoy.” Snape stood in the archway, looking and sounding the calmest in weeks. He surveyed the situation taking place, almost dreading a repeat performance of the now infamous catfight. Good thing Draco and Potter stepped in before he had to. With the two girls blocking the door, he turned to Parkinson and motioned for her to come inside first. Pug-face turned to Rose with a vile grin smeared across her mug. Rose glanced at Snape with a sharp glare. Resentment and jealousy boiled in her stomach. The Slytherins still came first. She thought there was a mutual respect between them, and he jumped at the opportunity to defend the shallow bitch. It wasn’t that she thought she was entitled to better treatment. It was just that she wanted to feel that Snape thought as highly of her as she did of him.

The professor looked at her for a moment, his face composed and his stance very much relaxed. He didn’t say anything to her, but then he stepped to the side and allowed her to enter next, ahead of the fifteen people behind her. When she passed him, she turned back to his turned head. Maybe he picked up on her thoughts, if he had developed an odd habit of doing that. But she didn’t really feel like her mind had been violated. Who knew? Maybe he did regard her as a valued student after all. The clench in her stomach was soothed away by the thought. Unnoticed by her classmates, she smiled.

Suddenly, she was jerked out of her own little world by a shake of her shoulder. Someone had grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her back to the side. A rapid glance revealed it to be Ron. His eyes were the size of saucers, and his breath was completely inaudible. The rigid arms that held onto Rose also held onto Hermione. They both looked out on the work stations. Rose also looked in that direction, just as confused as a few bystanders likely were. The desks were all arranged for the long two hours of brewing ahead. Bottles and jars of ingredients were laid out, and the burners were ready to go. Metal stands waited for their cauldrons. It was nothing out of the ordinary, Rose thought. But then she noticed that in front of every place was a large mason jar, each plugged with a rough cork. Rose did a double take when she got a good look at what those jars contained.

Crawling up the sides of the glass was a big, hairy tarantula, one for each of them. Rose held her breath, quickly turning her attention back to her friend. She wasn’t very fond of spiders either, but she couldn’t imagine what it was like for Ron. She still wondered how he managed to face hundreds of Aracumantalas without dying of complete fright.

Ron was looking left to right between both girls, his frantic question already in their minds. “What’s going on? What are those doing there?”

“I would assume that they’re for the lesson,” said Hermione in her matter-of-factly nature. She massaged her hand up and down Ron’s tense arm. He turned to Rose. “Did you know about this?”

“I didn’t think that they would be alive…or whole for that matter.”

“You have to be joking!”

“Just get a hold of yourself,” said Rose as she tugged her arm back, rubbing away the dull soreness.

“Weasley, Granger, Beckett,” Snape’s deep voice echoed over to where they stood. “All of you stop gawking and sit down.”

Rose was quick to obey, and in seconds, she was sitting down and tying back her hair. Harry jerked his head, beckoning Ron onward. Finally, he let go of Hermione and allowed her to join Rose at their desk in the center of the room. Ron was cautious as he followed suit. Harry watched with a smirk as his friend’s eyes darted from side to side, pulling his body in tight to avoid bumping into anything. When he did reach the desk, he was slow to sit. Only after Harry tapped down the cork of the two jars did he slump down. He wanted to be sure that those spiders were going to stay in their glass prisons. Of course, that didn’t stop him from tucking his books under his seat, suspended off the ground by the stool’s support brackets. Better to keep his stuff off the ground in case one of those nasty buggers broke free.

“Stay cool, mate. It’s not the worst we’ve seen,” said Harry. Across the aisle, Rose followed Ron’s example. She also pushed her jar away from her.

Snape surveyed his uncomfortable class and sneered, making his way to his desk. It was just a big, hairy spider. What was the big deal? No wonder he loved this lesson.

The Potions master spent the next twenty minutes breaking down the Antidepressant Draught, and how it was more effective than a Cheering Charm because it did not simply heighten your mood. Instead, it balanced out your emotions on a whole, and that would rid a person of depressed thoughts and feelings. Every time he looked up at his students, he couldn’t help but notice how Rose listened with full attention, scribbling out delicate notes on parchment. Funny considering that this very lesson came up in their late-night conversations two or three weeks before, and that fact was only made apparent the few times he allowed her to answer one of his questions. But oddly, he could tell that this brightness was sheer interest, and not just sucking up to him. Snape liked that about her. He hardly came across girls like that who didn’t drive him up a wall.

“Now,” he said. “I’m sure that every one of you has noticed the jars in front of you. I assure you that they were not left out for decoration. One of the key ingredients in this potion is tarantula juices, as described in your books. However, it has been found that the fresher the juices are, the better they are for brewing. That is why your spiders are still alive. Part of your job today is to kill them yourselves, and extract the juices from their abdomens. As a fair warning, I don’t want to hear any of you complaining about how you are scared of spiders because frankly, I don’t care.” Snape shot a look in Ron’s direction, making him shudder. “Don’t let any of them get free. If you lose them, it will be an automatic fail for the day.”

Snape wrapped up his lecture and let the class fend for themselves. Books opened to the appropriate page and burners flicked on. A good several minutes and several ingredients passed by before people started getting to the instruction that more than a few were dreading. The room was soon filled with the sounds of girls squealing and odd squishing. In the Slytherin territory, Goyle and Zabini growled when their tarantulas rapidly rubbed those disgusting hairs off with their rear legs, defensively sending them up into the air in a great puff. Zabini ended up having to wash his eyes out in the sink to get rid of the stinging. It took mere minutes before a jar broke on the stone floor. Girls skirted up onto their stools, shrieking in panic. Ernie Macmillan crawled on the floor after his renegade arachnid. He finally caught it just before he reached the front row, walking back to his seat with distinctly red cheeks.

Rose sat with her feet up off the floor, keeping herself calm and maintaining her own common sense. Staring at the spider in the jar and the knife in her hand, she hesitated. Handling a tarantula with her bare hands was _not_ her idea of a good time. But she still knew that in the end, she had to do it, especially with Snape watching her every move. She wasn’t fond of anybody seeing her weak points, but he stood before everyone else. But there had to be a better way than this dinky little knife. Then she got an idea.

As Hermione jumbled her spider out of its jar, Rose left her seat and made her way over to the cabinets. She knelt down to look through a drawer. Seven years, and weeks of repetitive cleanings later, she ought to know where it was. The noise attracted the Potions master’s attention.

“Miss Beckett, what are you doing?” asked Snape, greatly annoyed to see her rummaging.

Rose found what she was looking for and stood to address her teacher. In her hand was a heavy cleaver. “With all due respect, Professor Snape, if I’m going to kill that thing, I want to make sure that I get it on the first try.”

Snape rolled his black eyes to the ceiling, waving her on. Rose returned to her seat with her professor’s blessing. She allowed herself a moment to breathe before grasping the jar. She tipped out the tarantula onto the table and let it settle until she was sure that it wasn’t going anywhere. Ever so slowly, she rested the edge of the blade over the spider’s front half.

_*Crunch*_

Rose clenched her teeth and let go of a weak groan as she inspected her handiwork. She waited for the legs to stop twitching before she reached for her original knife to disembowel the hairy sack. Strands of web stretched between Rose’s fingers as she squeezed the sticky, gooey, nasty liquid into her cauldron. She and Hermione quickly moved on with their potions, ready to put that unpleasant experience behind them.

A high yelping distracted them both from their work. Their attention was pulled over to the desk directly to their left. Ron stood frozen by his workstation, not taking his eyes off the desk top. The angry arachnid that he was supposed to be executing was doing its best to get the wizard to piss himself. It perched itself on four legs as it thrust the remaining into the air. There was also a glistening on what turned out to be fangs.

Ron’s voice came in broken whimpers, his breath rushed to near hyperventilation. His hands shook, preventing him from even reaching for a knife. “I can’t do it,” he croaked. “I can’t do it, guys.”

“Ron, just calm down,” said Harry. He had opted to simply jab his knife into his unlucky bug and was waiting for it to finally die, pinned down to the aging wood of the desk. “It’s like ripping off a bandage. Just do it quickly and get it over with.”

“Try negotiating with that bloody thing! It would be a lot easier if it would come quietly.”

Hermione put down the bottle in her hand and leaned in Ron’s direction, ducking behind Rose’s back. “Come on, Ron. It’s not going to kill you. Tarantulas don’t even have enough venom to kill a man. It’s not worth a failing grade.”

“Oh yes, it is!” Ron squeaked.

Harry forcibly sighed. “Get a hold of yourself, Ron. This is ridiculous. You can’t do this forever.” He looked down at the still bleeding bug and decided that it had perished. He grabbed the knife and pulled it out. Ron didn’t take his eyes off the hostile spider. “Shut up, Harry.”

“Ron,” Rose chimed in, now quite annoyed. “Will you just stop complaining? I’m not thrilled with spiders either and I still did it. Do us all a favor and listen to your girlfriend.”

Ron still wasn’t moving or showing any sign of listening to his companions. Harry dropped his voice down. “You know that Snape is watching us, right?”

They both looked up to the head desk. The greasy professor was indeed staring them down, taking in their every move. Reluctant pride boiling up in his chest, Ron finally reached for his knife. He made a move for the spider’s head. But the retched thing wouldn’t give up. Those hairy legs went up again and it let out a sharp hiss. Ron stumbled back, wailing in his throat.

“Oh no! No way, I won’t do it!”

Rose snarled. “Oh for crying out –,”

_*Whack*_

Everyone looked up at Rose standing in the aisle, the goo-smeared cleaver in her hand. Ron’s spider had been chopped clean in half, the all important abdomen fully separated. The witch looked at Ron with a hard glare. “There, happy now?!” Ron nodded slowly. “Good, now pipe down and get to work. No need to thank me!”

“Settle down, Beckett,” Snape shouted, carefully rising from his chair. He pointed at the tense hand grasping the arachnid-slaying weapon. “Put that cleaver away before you dismember one of your classmates.” Rose did what she was told, feeling Snape’s eyes beating on the back of her head. She made broken eye contact with him on the way back to her seat. She didn’t resent his attitude towards her. In hindsight, that was a pretty stupid thing to do. The glares she got from both Hermione and Harry cemented that as truth.

“So that’s five points from Gryffindor for Beckett’s foolish recklessness,” said Snape, deliberately thinking out loud. “And five points for Weasley’s inability to complete a task.” He ignored the quiet groans, dulled by the day’s lesson. He looked at Rose in time to see her lift her eyes up in surrender. She had that coming and they both knew it. Ron meanwhile was left to quietly debate if it was really worth it to lose points.

He quickly decided that since he didn’t have to put his hands anywhere near a living tarantula, it was totally worth it!

**~HP~**

The setting sun found Severus in the staffroom. Minerva had invited him for quiet tea, but she wasn’t quite ready for him to make the trek up to her office in his delicate condition. Oddly, Severus didn’t mind it too much. For some bizarre reason that he could not figure out, he was in a bit of a social mood. And after that interesting, rather humorous lesson, he thought the deputy headmistress should know for herself just how hilarious her students could be.

“So then Beckett grabs the cleaver, raises it over her head, and chops down on Weasley’s spider. Dead before she could lift the blade!”

“Oh dear, Severus,” said Minerva, shaking her head. “Don’t tell me that she mangled it.”

“Actually no,” Severus took a short sip of tea. He was relaxed back into the sofa with Minerva sitting beside him. The elderly witch had offered to transfigure a footstool for him, but Severus insisted that there was no need to coddle him like that. “For an act of impulsive irritation, it was a surprisingly clean cut. Weasley didn’t have to lift a finger.”

“He could have lost one! Beckett has always been so careful in what she does. I cannot believe she would do something so foolish.”

Severus sighed, tweaking a black brow. “I suspect she gets that from her father.”

“Oh, don’t remind me!” Minerva laughed. “That boy was nothing but pure irritation the entire time he was here. Compared to Alistair, Rose could be a candidate for sainthood.”

“I hate to agree with you, but you might have something there,” said Severus. “However, you cannot deny that his daughter has had her moments of spontaneity. Not unlike Alistair at her age.”

“I know, Severus. But I hoped that wouldn’t go to the extreme of swinging a heavy knife around. And you say that she was angry when this happened?”

“I think she was just annoyed with Weasley’s whining. Then again, I can’t exactly blame her. The boy’s eighteen years old, no need to be so terrified of a spider.”

“Severus, everyone and their mother knows that’s his worst fear.” Remus pushed the door closed behind him. Severus was scowling before so much as glancing at his fellow colleague. “Didn’t _your_ mother ever teach you it was rude to eavesdrop on other people?”

“Well excuse me, but last I checked, all faculty are welcome in here at their free whim.”

“Gentlemen, please!” Minerva held up a firm hand. “I have had enough of this senseless conflict between you two. Frankly, it is more than ridiculous. Severus, you cannot keep jumping down Remus’s throat. And Remus, you should know better. I don’t want Severus to be put under any stress.”

“Too late for that,” said Severus, rolling his eyes.

Remus sighed. He wanted to say that Severus would just steamroll over him if he didn’t fight back. If he caused the wizard any stress, he was asking for it. “I’m sorry, Minerva. You are absolutely right. The same goes to you, Severus.” He helped himself to a cup of tea and sat some distance from the couch.

“I don’t believe I told you to sit all the way over there,” said Minerva, looking over her shoulder. Severus opened his mouth to protest when she snapped her head back around. “Don’t you say a word. He has as much right to be here as we do.” Minerva motioned to the empty seat next to the hearth. Cautiously, Remus took his tea over and sat down. He was pleased to notice that Severus seemed to be attempting to control himself in the old woman’s presence.

“I know you don’t want to hear me say this,” he said to the Potions master. “But Minerva’s right. You shouldn’t be under so much stress nowadays.”

“Cut the crap, Lupin. As long as those blundering brats are around, stress is unavoidable.”

“But you have been a teacher for a very long time,” said Remus. “You know how to control that.”

“I used to,” Severus reluctantly admitted. “I don’t know what it is about everyone, but they’re all worse than they were before.”

Minerva lightly touched his leg. “Severus, had it ever occurred to you that it might just be you?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded his agreement. “You’ve got hormones pumping through you like mad.”

Severus snarled. What gave these people the idea that if they didn’t constantly try to talk about his pregnancy, he would forget about it? His day was going pretty well. He didn’t want to end it with those terrible thoughts again. “Don’t make this about my condition.”

“Your condition makes this more of a priority. You’re pregnant, you can’t ignore it forever.”

“Shut up, Lupin.”

“Remus, please,” said Minerva, barring any row that might be heading their way. She however turned back to Severus with a stern, but concerned expression. “He is right though, dear. Your body is going through a lot of changes. If you came to terms with those changes, then you wouldn’t have so many issues with the other professors and students.”

“Sounds easy enough when you say it,” said Severus. “If you should be scolding anyone, it’s the students.”

“Kids will be kids,” the werewolf chuckled.

“Oh really, then why does it seem that they’re doing everything in their power to make me snap?”

Now Minerva was laughing under her breath. “And that doesn’t sound a little paranoid?” The comment made Severus reevaluate his goal in the argument and he sighed his defeat. He set down his teacup to massage his now aching temples. Minerva brought up a hand to help ease his tension. “Severus, as far as I know, no one is deliberately trying to stress you out.”

“Put yourself in my place and see what you think.” Severus leaned back into the weathered cushions.

“Severus,” Remus leaned forward. “I’ve said this more than enough, but I’m sorry for what happened the other day. Filius and Pomona said that they won’t hassle you like that again.”

“Now let’s see how long that lasts.”

“They just worry about you,” said Minerva. Severus sluggishly nodded as though to say _I-know._ He let go of another deeply held breath. Remus watched from his seat, draining the last steamy drops in his cup.

“You don’t have to look so miserable. It’s going to get better.”

Severus chose not to look over at the carefully polite wizard. “I have said it before, and I shall say it again. I doubt that.”

“Trust me on this one,” said Remus. “The further along you get, the better this is going to seem. You know, you ought to take a cue from the Sixth and Seventh years.”

“Oh yes, like I need to pay any more attention to Boy-wonder than I already do,” said Severus, his eyes rolling and his lip curling.

“No, I’m serious. Most of them have been to Hell and back, and they all seem to have some pretty positive attitudes.”

“It’s those attitudes that are driving me crazy!”

“Rose Beckett doesn’t drive you crazy, and she’s pretty optimistic.”

“So you two _have_ been getting along better,” Minerva said with a pleasant smile. “I had hoped that those loose comments were not just rumors. I’m glad that Rose isn’t giving you a hard time, deliberately or not.”

“That’s because she thinks I’m still ill,” said Severus.

The elderly witch knocked her head to the side with a tweak in her brow. “She’s also a generally nice person. I’ve known that girl since she was an eleven year-old child. She doesn’t force it, it just comes naturally. I just wish that she learn to control that temper of hers. It gets her into the nastiest of predicaments.”

“We know, Minerva. We know.” Remus chuckled to himself. Severus also smirked, letting his thoughts wander to the red-haired Gryffindor. He’d been thinking about that class for part of the afternoon. Her actions were drastic to put it lightly. But there was something about it that got his attention and held on. “She would make Alistair proud, wouldn’t she?” In their relative privacy, Severus shared a laugh with his two colleagues, feeling no desire to wall himself up.

**~HP~**

For the tenth time in four weeks, Rose was made to scrub the desks in the Potions classroom. This time, however, there was just cause and very good reason. The Seventh year arachnid encounter had left the wooden surfaces with a sticky, congealed layer of spider juices. This was ultimately made worse by the following class. Now there were corners of parchment stuck to it, and even a whole quill had been left behind covered in the stuff. Rose thanked Merlin that this time, Snape presented her with a bottle of _Mrs. Scower’s Magical Mess Remover._ He knew from past experience that this was a hard potion to clean up after.

“You should know that your Head of House was not pleased to hear of your fancy knife work,” said Snape, grading a stack of essays at his desk. “Call it a hunch, but I think it’s safe to say that she did not mind losing points this time.”

“Ah Professor Snape, please don’t do that,” Rose pleaded, though with more humor than distress. “I already got a good whipping from Hermione.”

“In that case, I hope you learned your lesson and think before you act.”

“I know, I know. It was a stupid idea, and I could have cut Ron’s hand off. I’ve been getting it all night.” Rose almost had to get on her knees to get the right leverage to scrub the thick goo off. Her words were also hardened by the effort. “Merlin, this is disgusting! Professor, why do you make us kill the tarantulas? It would make all of our lives easier if we just used dead ones.”

Snape cocked a black brow at her. “Now Beckett, where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun?” laughed Rose. “That was not fun in the slightest, and I’ve got nine other people to back me up.”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Rose laughed harder, her professor smirking at her from across the room. Neither paid much notice to the lack of tension between them. “Cruel...really, really cruel.” These are people’s fears we’re dealing with, Rose thought. But she dropped the argument without putting up that fight. She would probably come out the loser anyway.

“I must say, Miss Beckett,” said Snape. “All idiocy aside, that was an impressive job. I don’t ever want you to try and pull a stunt like that again, but I couldn’t help but notice how precise that cut was.”

Rose blushed as she smiled. “Lucky chop. Believe me, I was a bit testy, but I really was trying to help Ron.”

“There’s a fine line between helping and coddling.”

“It shut him up, didn’t it?”

Snape nodded. “That it did, and I do thank you for that. A boy of his age should not be reduced to a whimpering child by a spider. Come to think of it, you didn’t look too thrilled yourself.”

“No, I don’t like spiders that much,” said Rose, shaking her head. “Never have, really. I’m not sure why.”

“You managed through today’s lesson. It cannot possibly be so bad for you compared to Weasley.”

“Can you offer another explanation as to why I went for the cleaver?” Snape thought for a moment, but realized that anything he said would be met with stark defense. He went back to the god awful essay in his hands. Rose shook her head. “I didn’t think so. It really was that nasty and unnerving to me. But hey, at least I killed the bloody things.”

“Yes, yes, you did,” said Snape. “Of course, as an aspiring potioneer, that is certainly not the worst you will encounter.”

Rose wiped away the remains of the cleaning potion. “I’ve assumed that much. It still gives me the creeps though. You know, I almost asked Hermione to do it for me.”

“Oh really, and what stopped you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want anyone to think that I was scared of a little bug…alright, a big bug. Parkinson and Malfoy give me a hard time as it is. I don’t want to provide them with any more inspiration in their continuing pursuit to drive me to Bedlam.”

Snape looked up to study her face. He had an odd feeling that Rose was withholding something from him. “Is that all?” he asked.

“In a sense, yeah.” Rose went from table to table, wiping down the soggy tops. She calmly explained herself as she went, glancing at Snape every odd minute. “Look Professor, I’m a Gryffindor. When we get scared, people make fun of us. It’s like we can control that. I find that in the long run, facing fear is the best thing to do. It gets people off your back, and you feel good afterward.”

“How valiant of you,” said Snape, smirking in his own sarcasm. But it just wasn’t the same sarcasm he would have used with any other person. It was good that she didn’t let her personal likings or otherwise get in the way of her task. Yes, good on her!   

“Yep, I’d have to die before becoming a simpering coward.” Rose smiled pleasantly. “My mother raised me better than that.”

“Your mother?”

“Yeah, she always said that when life rears its ugly head, you’ve got to stand your ground. Life is just better when you have nothing standing in your way.” Rose walked over to the sink, carrying her heavy bucket, to dump out the soapy, fumy water. She felt Snape’s eyes follow her and felt no sinister shiver. Her back turned, Rose reveled in this quiet attention. “Your mother sounds like a classy lady,” she heard him her professor say. But what he got was a shaking head and swaying red hair.

“She certainly would appear that way,” said Rose, turning on the faucet to refill the bucket. “I get that all the time back in Kent. But those people don’t live with her. Meadow Hill is a small town and yet hardly anyone knows her like I do.”

“What do you mean by that?” Snape asked, just hanging onto the tension cutting tone. Rose turned to lean against the aging brim. The humor that had been in her voice and face was suddenly gone.

“Sir, my mother is a raving lunatic.” Snape wanted to laugh, but the look on Rose’s face said, without words, that it was no joke. She was looking at him with eyes that spoke to him with such utter vulnerability and sincerity. He set aside his work and leaned on his desk as he listened to her. “She’s very straight forward, and she’s always been very set in her ways. She might be more freelance than the rest of her family, but really, she’s not that far off. I don’t quote her like that because she touches my spirit. I quote her because I hear it so much. And it’s a wonder that I have little bouts of paranoia.”

The wizard was very skeptical. Many eighteen year olds thought their parents were crazy. He thought his were when he was eight! “She can’t be that bad.”

“Oh yeah? Sit down and have a chat with her sometime, and then tell me what you think.” Rose grasped the bucket handle and hauled it over to the desks. She then proceeded to clean them a second time, one by one, for good measure. It seemed that she was secretly wishing that the conversation would end, and Snape found that a bit troubling.

“She wasn’t hard on you, was she?”

“No, not really. I guess it depends on what you mean by hard” Rose still didn’t look up. She just kept scrubbing away. “But she can be a challenge to live with some days. She’s just really stubborn sometimes. She had a lot of expectations for me, and her word is law in our house. Oh, it only got a little better when I started at Hogwarts.”

The Potions master could smell the bitterness radiating off the young witch. A familiar pang tweaked at his insides. “How does she feel about magic?”

“I guess you could say she’s indifferent,” said Rose. “I mean, she knows it’s there, she accepts it. But she just chooses to ignore it. She doesn’t like it when I talk about my magic, never wants to hear about what I do in school. Even when I’ve done something I’m really proud of, she doesn’t really listen. Mum always wanted to keep my school life and my home life separate.”

“That has to be frustrating,” Snape said, trying to be of some help. After all, he had sensed the night before that a double life was not what Rose really wanted.

“More than that,” Rose turned to face Snape. She sat down on a nearby stool. “I understand that she’s a Muggle, and that she grew up believing that real magic didn’t exist. But the fact is that she gave birth to a witch. She knew that the entire time she was with my dad, and there was no way around that. Not to mention that she demanded custody when they broke up. The least she could do is show a little interest in what I’m doing with myself. The fact that she doesn’t… I won’t lie, Professor. That hurts.”

Snape lowered his eyes and sighed. “I can imagine.” He could relate is more he liked it.

Rose shook her head, propping an elbow on soggy wood. “I’m sorry, sir. That was more than you needed to hear.”

“It’s alright, Miss Beckett. When you are Head of House, it comes with the territory.” Snape offered Rose a weak, half-smile. Since he wasn’t expecting any reaction, he was surprised by the warm smile he got in return. “She expected a lot from you. What do you mean by that?”

Rose paused, leaning further into the table. The cuffs of her rolled sleeves soaked in remnants of water. “I don’t think I should say,” she said, caution weighing down her tone.

“This won’t leave the room.” Snape waited, but Rose simply stared at him. To him, she almost looked like the scared little child who first walked into his classroom all those years before. “What, don’t you trust me?”

“I didn’t always.”

Snape’s face fell. He wondered why it bothered him that he always had Rose’s respect, but not her trust. Hell, _nobody_ trusted him a year ago! Perhaps it was his newfound fondness for her messing with his mind. “You have my word.”

Rose rolled her eyes away. “Aye, you don’t give up easily. You’re not much better than Hermione.” She thought for a moment, weighing out all the possibilities. But when she realized that as far as she knew, Snape hadn’t yet disclosed anything she had said before, she gave in. “Mum always had this thing about being a proper lady. I guess it’s left over from my grandmother. For whatever reason, she said I owed it to her and the rest of the family to grow up to be the best woman I could.”

“It seems to me that you’ve done a fairly decent job at that,” said Snape.

“Thank you, Professor, but that’s your opinion,” Rose responded, drawing swirly designs into the drying layer of water with her fingertips. “As I said, she wanted to keep my two lives separate. What I did when I was with my dad was my business. But that was only so many days out of the year. The rest of the time, I had to live up to her standards.”

“Standards?” The dark-haired wizard pushed away his stack of half-graded papers.

“Yes, standards. For one, she always wanted me to be the picture of English manners. She even sent me to finishing school when I was nine. Well, that dream died when I started using…less than polite language. To this day, she blames Dad for that. He had nothing to do with it, I assure you. She’s also wanted me to excel at school, in every class I took. I know every parent wants that for their children, but when I got Bs in primary school, she said I could do better. She pushed me to get good marks, and I couldn’t always do that. I like to think I’m clever, but I’m no genius. I don’t even excel at everything I do here.”

“She hasn’t seen your O.W.L. marks, has she?”

Rose cocked an irked eyebrow. “How do you know about my O.W.L. marks?”

“I don’t, I just thought to ask.” Good save, Snape told himself. It wasn’t quite a lie. He obviously knew about the O she received for his class, in addition to what the late Charity Burbage called the first O for Muggle Studies in three years.

“Even if she knew that an O is the highest you can get, I think she would still be disappointed that I only got two. A good few Es wouldn’t be good enough for her daughter. Oh, and on top of that, she wanted me to be a social butterfly. But you know, the problem with living in a small village is that it’s hard to really connect with people. Not to mention that a life like mine makes it all the more difficult. I was the local divorce-baby after all. That was before magic started making me look and feel strange around the other children. And to be honest, I was rather shy when I was little. I had only had two or three friends back in the day.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true. It was Hogwarts that made me outgoing. However, every time I tell her about Harry, Hermione, or the others, she asks me why I can’t do that in Meadow Hill. It’s like my school friends don’t count.”

“She’s a Muggle,” Snape suggested. “She probably wants you to associate more with her kind.”

“Professor Snape, you’re probably right. She doesn’t talk about them like they’re wizards either, even Harry! I’m friends with the Boy-who-lived, and to her, he’s just the Boy. She could at least acknowledge that he saved us all.” Rose was halted by a pale, sickly hand.

“Miss Beckett…please,” Snape warned.

“Oh…sorry sir,” said Rose. That’s right, don’t bring up Harry. Bad idea! “I’m glad Mum’s never met any of my friends. I think they’d have to surrender their wands at the door. She makes me keep mine hidden away during the summer.”

Snape arched an eyebrow at Rose. “How old are you, exactly?”

“Eighteen,”

“Then in the eyes of the Ministry, you are a capable adult. Your mother can’t necessarily control you or your magic.”

“Not unless she has things her way,” said Rose. “She always tries to tell me that I can’t depend on charms, it’s unreliable.”

Snape snickered at that, catching his laughter at the back of this throat and further muffling it behind pressed lips. “Unreliable? If that’s not Muggle ignorance, I don’t what is.”

“Told you…lunatic.” Rose stood up and came around the desk. “My seventeenth birthday didn’t stop her from trying to prove a point. I had to do everything the Muggle way, underage or not. She especially hates the _Accio_ charm, calls it the laziest thing she’s ever seen.”

“You’ve used it to summon things without getting off the sofa, haven’t you?”

Rose awkwardly looked away, suddenly deciding it was a great time to get back to work. She dunked her hand into her bucket to look for her brush. “Maybe once or twice.” Snape laughed into his hand, and Rose spun around to jab a thin finger at him. “Oh, you’re laughing? You’ve done that too! But really sir, how do you think I got so quick at cleaning tables and floors?”

“I would have assumed that it was because you were stubborn and eager to please.”

“I wish,”

Snape watched as Rose rushed to finish the desks. The poor thing looked terribly uncomfortable, like her mother knew that she was talking about her. It certainly wasn’t fear, but there was some shame or guilt in that haste. Snape couldn’t help but wonder how often Rose talked about how patronizing her mother was, because the way she was acting now suggested it wasn’t something she took to easily. Noticing the time, he tried to go back to his work. “Forgive me, but that sounds tremendously annoying.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” said Rose. “No matter what I do, it never seems to be enough. What do I have to do to make her truly proud to be my mother, an act of God?”

“With what you’ve said of your family, it wouldn’t surprise me. But witch or not, you’re still her daughter. She must at least love you for that.” Snape had to shut himself up. Where in the hell did that come from all of a sudden?

“Oh, I know she loves me. In her words, I’m her baby and nothing can take that away from her. She might be off her rocker, but she’s still a good mother. I don’t think there was ever a time when I thought she was a bad parent. Thank God…all we’ve got is each other. No, I love that woman to death. I just wish that she accepted me completely not just as her blood, but as a witch as well.” Dripping brush in hand, Rose made a move for the last workstation.

“Well, you have your father for that, don’t you?”

There was a sharp clack as the brush hit the floor, fallen from Rose’s grasp. The Gryffindor slowly bent over to pick it up, not looking at her Slytherin teacher. “Professor, how well do you know my father?”

“Not as well as I did before the lot of you were born,” Snape admitted.

“So…you don’t talk to him much?”

“No, not much. Why, what does he say?”

“Probably that there isn’t a thing about me he could be proud of. I wouldn’t know; it’s my understanding that he doesn’t talk about me much anyway.”

“Now Miss –,”

“No!” Rose barked, forgetting her place. “Don’t do that. I say it because it’s true. Every time I saw him, it was the same thing. _“You made Gryffindor, what a shame. Now you’ve ruined the family tradition of Slytherin.” “You’re wasting your time with Muggles. They are completely useless.” “You know that you can never be as talented as a pure-blood.”_ Well, whose bloody fault is that? She may not be happy with them, but at least my mother could accept my shortcomings. With him, there’s no point. I can’t argue with that logic, can I?”

Snape didn’t know what to say to that. He knew that this girl had some very good qualities, though he still could not bring himself to voice that to her. But at the same time, he did know Alistair. He was another one of those mules with no sense of compromise. He remembered him as a particularly pesky example of Slytherin pride, hanging off the ankles of soon-to-be Death Eaters. And like the Malfoys and the Lestranges before him, he was simply the product of years-old pure-blood Beckett traditions. So it was just unfortunate that his daughter turned out to be everything he grew up detesting.

“He hasn’t supported you in anything?”

“Nothing,” said Rose, a certain tension constricting her voice box. “Everything I do is wrong to him. It’s gotten to the point where I just stopped talking about my ventures because he’ll have something to say. I haven’t even bothered with writing to him since he’s been in Azkaban. Lord knows he doesn’t want to hear it. Mum congratulated me when I made the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He’d say that if I was any good at the game, I’d have a full spot.”

“He might say that,” said Snape. “But I think it would have more to do with the fact that he never made the team when he was here.”

“Right,” Rose sneered, not convinced in the slightest. “I don’t even know why I bother. That man has never really treated me like he should have, like he was a proud father. I was his only child, and he treats me like I’m second rate.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was ashamed of you.” He honestly didn’t mean it as an insult. It was the glare and the gleam in Rose’s eyes that made Snape realize his mistake.

“I wouldn’t put it past me.”

“Aww, Beckett…”

“No, it’s totally believable. I’m obviously not the child he wanted, and I doubt he can see my worth. And I never heard from him when he didn’t have me with him. Why else would he contact me unless the courts told him so?”

Snape eased himself to his feet and came around to lean on his desk. Rose pushed past him with the basin of filthy water and once again dumped into the sink. She blew away her built up emotions. “May I say something?” asked Snape, drawing her attention. Rose nodded her permission. “What your parents think should not matter to you.”

“Why? They’re my parents.”

“Because in the end, it’s not really that important. Yes, there is probable cause that your father would have preferred you in Slytherin. And yes, it can be hard to live with a Muggle of that irritating sort. But look at it this way. You had to get your stubbornness somewhere.”

“Professor Snape, what are you saying?” asked a confused Rose.

“That you did not let your parents influence you too much. They both sound like people who want children to be miniature versions of themselves. But you are what you are, no matter what people do to try and change that. I have no idea what made you do this, but you turned out to be terrifically open-minded for such a biased birthright.”

“You mean how my father’s a pure-blood Slytherin, and yet I love muggles, and how my mother’s a Muggle, yet wizards come first?”

“Exactly,” said Snape. “In this day and age, you don’t really come across people like that. In the time you’ve spent away from your family, you learned to go about life the way you see fit, not your family. And if you ask me, that is quite admirable of you.” He slowly approached Rose and rested a hand on her shoulder. “For my sake, please don’t ever repeat that.”

A smile tweaked at the corners of Rose’s mouth. “Not even to Hermione?”

“Dear god, no. Granger already looks at me like I’m some sort of charity case, like I’m slowly losing my mind. You wouldn’t want to make that worse, would you?”

“I guess not,” Rose giggled slightly. “You know, you might be right. Professor, you give some good advice. You ought to do it more often.”

“I take them as they come.” Snape grabbed the dirty rag resting beside the discarded bucket. “And with the likes of your house, it’s a rare privilege.” Rose planted a hand on her hip, Cassandra’s influence suddenly shining on through. “I suppose I should be grateful for that,” she said.

“Careful what you say, brat.” Snape tossed her the rag, not deterred by her amused grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tell you, that part with Ron and the tarantula, I've been wanting to do that for as long as I've been a Harry Potter fan who writes fanfiction. Kudos if you're a arachnophobe who enjoyed the sweet taste of revenge.


	20. If I make good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially inspired by the song "The Wizard and I" from Wicked. I hope no one minds.

Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with trainers on her feet, Rose pushed her way against the flow of people rushing through the halls. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and everyone was in a mass migration out to the grounds. She however was on the familiar path down to the dungeons. In a move as unexpected as it was aggravating, Snape had decided to call her down much earlier than they were used to, using the weekend to his advantage. She had nothing better to do, he had said, so why not? Clearly, he had either forgotten or was just plain ignoring that she had a life outside classes. It broke her heart to explain to Harry that she would have to miss Quidditch practice. Wanting to give Snape the benefit of the doubt, Rose hoped that she was right when she told the Head Boy that this would be another one time deal.

She had expected that Snape would be waiting for her when she got there, ready to hammer her about why she didn’t get there sooner. So it surprised her to arrive at the Potions classroom and find a closed door. A test of the handle revealed it to be locked. This was strange; Snape told her to be there at eleven o’clock, and she was right on time. She reached for her wand. “ _Alohamora,_ ” Nothing…oh, so it was more than just his office to be impregnable. Maybe Snape was running a little behind that morning. He was a Head of House after all. So rather reluctantly, she leaned up against the wall beside the door.

She waited… and waited… and waited. Standing by the door became sitting on the floor. A tapping foot became twiddling thumbs. If only she had some parchment to doodle on. All the while, she tried to ignore the sneers she realized were flying by her. Rose kept compulsively looking at her silver watch every time five minutes passed. Where the hell was Snape? He was hardly ever late, let alone this late. Had something happened with another student? Did he get caught up in some of his work? Was he okay? Every possibility found its way onto Rose’s train of thought. Finally after forty minutes, she pushed herself to her feet. She had to go find McGonagall. Perhaps she had an explanation for this.

As luck would have it, she ran into Flitwick on the way upstairs. He told her to head for the Transfiguration office. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Rose jogged up the steps until she reached the first floor. She stopped for only a few minutes to catch her breath, supported against a suit of armor. But then she carried on her way, reaching her destination in no time at all. After another quick breath, she knocked on the door. It swung open on its own.

“Miss Beckett,” said McGonagall, sitting at her desk. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“Actually Professor, about that. Professor Snape apparently decided that my continued punishment is more important than Quidditch.”

The Head of Gryffindor house gave a long sigh with a shake of her head. “Oh good Merlin, so he did do it after all. Drat, he knows reserves are just as important as main players. Well dear, if you came here to get me to change his mind for you, I can’t. He has the right to do this, as you know well. I will speak to him later, so hopefully this doesn’t become a habit. But for now, the team can get along without you. Now get going, I’m sure you are already late.”

“That’s kind of why I’m here.” Rose shifted where she stood, her trainers squeaking on the wood floor. “Professor Snape told me to report at eleven, and I did. I waited outside his classroom for over half an hour. It’s now fifteen minutes to twelve, and he still hasn’t shown up.”

She noticed the sudden look of growing concern in her teacher’s face, and that irked her more than she already was. “You haven’t seen him at all today?” asked McGonagall.

“No, he wasn’t at breakfast. Why, what’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just unusual for him.” The older witch composed herself and rose to her feet. She ushered the student out of the door. “Come with me. We’ll sort this out.”

They journeyed back down to the castle’s lower levels, Rose following behind McGonagall the entire time. She couldn’t help but notice how quick the old woman’s pace was. More concern riled up in her stomach. If she didn’t have much reason to worry before, she certainly did now.

McGonagall led Rose down the stairs, through the dank halls, past the Potions classroom, and finally came to a stop outside a single wooden door. Rose quickly assumed that this was the entrance to Snape’s personal quarters, impassable to all but a few. McGonagall briefly turned to her. “You wait here.” She opened the door and quietly went inside. It came to a creaky close. Rose looked around, feeling a little awkward. The Bloody Baron floated passed her with a snide glance. He soon disappeared through a solid wall, once again leaving Rose alone. Feeling the blush coming on, Rose took her place against the wall.

**~HP~**

Severus rarely got what he could call good sleep. Being pregnant certainly had not helped that problem. If it wasn’t the early risings brought on by the need to be sick, it was the long hours of lying awake, his mind too cluttered to relax. With no one else around, the only thing he could really think about was the developing baby. Those thoughts led to the silent despair for his predicament. He knew it was going to take quite some time before he accepted his condition, but he wished that he didn’t have to sit up at night and wonder what the not-too-distant future held for him.

Fully exhausted after a long week, Severus decided to start his weekend by lying in, ignoring his impulse to rise early in the morning. He thought that a few more hours of sleep would do him some good. That counted as taking care of himself, right? The headmaster would be pleased. He doubted that he was expected at breakfast anyway.

He was sound asleep on his stomach, with his head under his pillow and his mouth open when his bedroom door opened with a loud, painful creak. Paralyzed by his total comfort, Severus responded to this intrusion with a low moan. His hands came up from under the covers to further bury his head under smothering cloth and feathers.

“Severus,” he thought he heard Minerva’s voice say. It was too quiet to tell if it was real or a figment of his imagination. He assumed he was dreaming because he didn’t move. He just relaxed further into the mattress, exhaling through his dry mouth. “Severus?” Was that clicking and swishing? Still he gave no answer. “Severus!”

The drowsy wizard was finally roused by a good, hearty smack to his leg. Still too groggy to express full irritation, Severus slowly rolled over onto his back, letting the pillow fall away. “Wha…what?” he yawned, blinking despite the drawn curtains.

“Get up out of bed this instant,” Minerva scolded at the side of the bed. Her arms were crossed across her body. But Severus wasn’t going to take this too seriously. He eased back onto his side, pulling the covers over his shoulder.

“Leave me alone, Minerva,” he moaned, closing his tired eyes. “Let a man sleep.”

“You’ve slept long enough.” Minerva walked over to the lone window and pulled back the shades, letting in a stream of light that hit Severus’s face directly. Like one of his lazy teenaged students, he yanked the covers over his face. “Don’t you know what time it is?”

“I dunno, nine? Ten?”

“It’s nearly noon.” That did the trick. Amazed that he had managed to sleep that long, Severus sat up in bed. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as Minerva walked back over to stand at his bedpost. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “You never sleep so late.”

“I was just overly exhausted,” said Severus. “It’s Saturday, I can sleep in if I want to.”

“That is true, but this is a bit absurd. You cannot spend the entire morning sleeping, whether you have classes or not. And do you know how worried you had me when no one saw you this morning? How are we to know that something hasn’t happened to you?”

“I’m alright, Minerva. If you ask me, you should be glad that I was sleeping instead of throwing up.”

“That doesn’t make me any less worried,” said Minerva. “It’s not the extra hours of sleep that bother me. Poppy tells me that it’s normal for this stage of pregnancy. It’s that you are letting yourself get to this point. If you didn’t push yourself so hard during the week, then you wouldn’t need to make up for it now.”

“I’m not changing how I live my life.”

“I hate to tell you this, but you don’t have much choice. It’s obvious to me that the baby is taking a lot out of you. This is your body trying to tell you to get more rest, like what Remus and I have been saying.”

“Minerva,” Severus interrupted. “Have you just come down here to lecture me, or is there something else you have on your mind?”

The witch’s look of motherly concern disappeared to be replaced by the stern teacher Severus remembered from his youth. “Actually, I came down here to see why you hadn’t followed through on your duties this morning.”

“Duties?” asked Severus, his mind still cloudy from slumber.

“Have you forgotten Miss Beckett’s detention? You did tell her that you wanted her early today, did you not?”

It took a few seconds of hard thinking before Severus remembered that he did indeed say that. But then he looked at the clock and realized how late he was. He should have met her an hour ago! Severus threw back the sheets and scrambled to his feet. He rushed over to his wardrobe, throwing open the doors. “Shit! Shit, shit! She’s had an hour. The little Muggle-loving brat has probably taken off already. Now, I’ll have to go after her!” Robes in hand, Severus glanced out of the tiny window. “There’s a Gryffindor practice going on, isn’t there? If she’s in the air with Potter, I’ll have both their guts for garters!”

“Severus,” Minerva said, coming up behind him to touch his arm. “She’s outside.”

Severus’s frantic rants were halted by her words. He turned his head to his older colleague. “What?”

“She’s waiting outside for you. Actually, she’s been waiting for quite some time. She came to find me when you failed to turn up.”

“She did?” asked Severus, surprised.

“Yes, and she did pass up Quidditch practice for you. She had plenty of opportunity to run off, and she decided against it. You don’t find many students who do that.”

“Any responsible Seventh year would do that.”

“My point exactly, they only make up a small fraction of the student body.” Minerva calmly stepped away. She could see the slight stain of embarrassment in Severus’s cheeks. “Anyway, you should appreciate that she’s been waiting for over an hour. If anything, do it for me. It’s not exactly my idea to have a somewhat unpracticed reserve player filling in for one of my chasers.” She disregarded the sneering roll in Severus’s eyes. “Also, please think about your emotions. I can see that you’re testy right now, I’m sorry if it’s because I woke you up. But don’t take anything out on her.”

“I know. She’s a decent human being, she doesn’t deserve it,” said Severus, his lack of enthusiasm stretching his words.

“That and she’s already suffered enough because of your hormones,” Minerva chided. “Now get dressed. I’ll make sure Beckett doesn’t go anywhere. I also want you to eat something. No skipping meals, remember?”

“Yes mother!” Severus droned sarcastically as the elderly witch left through the bedroom door. He listened as she walked the length of his rooms and out the front door. From there, he could hear her talking to the student outside. “He’ll be with you in a moment.”

He changed quickly into his dark robes and sturdy black boots. Adrenaline coursed through his body, speeding his heart and quickening his breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of a frantic white rabbit with a pocket watch suddenly appeared. Merlin, he had to stop eavesdropping on Cassandra’s teatime conversations. He took a moment to calm himself, telling himself that he had nothing to worry about. This was Rose Beckett he was dealing with. She had already done enough for him by waiting so diligently. It helped that with her help, this would turn out to be an easy day. The thought of Rose’s presence calmed Severus, as though he was looking forward to seeing her.

Then again, maybe he was…

He wasn’t going to ignore Minerva’s orders for him to eat because his stomach would not let him. For once, the dull aches were from hunger, for which Severus was most relieved. After rummaging around his rooms for a minute or two, he decided that a moderately sweet apple would do. He crunched down, releasing the juices inside. He reveled in the taste as he pulled open the door and stepped into the dungeon hall. Rose sat on the floor against the opposing wall, hands cradling her bent knees. She looked up with attentive blue eyes.

“Good day, Miss Beckett,” he said, swallowing that first bite. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Rose smiled. “That’s alright, sir. I don’t mind.” She noticed the obvious smirk that Snape gave her. Evidently, he knew she would rather be somewhere else at that moment. But since she wasn’t exactly in the bowels of Hell, Rose didn’t fight it. She had to have it coming sometime. You mess around, you miss Quidditch. “What took you so long?”

“If you must know, I had work to attend to. I just lost track of the time.”

“Reasonable enough,” said Rose, hoisting herself up off the dirty floor. She brushed the dust off the backside of her jeans.

“Or so you say. I know what is going on outside. I doubt that you have been enjoying missing that Gryffindor mêlée for no reason.”

Rose cocked her head to Snape. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and thank you once again for being on time. Now come, we have work to do.”

“Professor,” Rose spoke up as the two of them started down the hall. “If I may ask, when will we be done for the day?”

“Trust me Beckett, your little team’s practice will be well over by the time I’m through with you.” Rose groaned, drawing a not-so-sinister sneer out of Snape.

**~HP~**

With no classes going on, the Potions master and his student were given free reign of Pomona Sprout’s greenhouses to collect a new inventory of herbs and plants. At first, Snape didn’t know how the student stores had managed to get so cleaned out in such a short amount of time. It made much more sense after Rose casually suggested that other people were doing what she had done, using the ingredients for potions found in the pages of magazines. Experimenting when they should be studying. Pathetic and reckless, Snape thought.

It was simple enough. Rose would walk up and down the rows of pots, clipping and digging up what they needed, while Snape took notes of what she gathered. Baskets gradually collected at his feet. Sprout had offered to stay and help, but Snape waved her on. He was in good health, and even if he was not, that’s what the ginger girl was for. She reluctantly left them to their work.

The Quidditch pitch was within view, and every now and then, Rose would look up to watch what was happing. She had to confess, it was rather amusing to watch Dean and Fourth year Emily Block play two-on-one against Demelza.

“Don’t get your wand in a knot. They are managing without you,” she heard Snape say behind her. “Besides, chances are that you won’t see a game anyway.”

“I know that,” said Rose. “It just drives me mad knowing that I should be out there with them. Start of the season’s not far off, you know.”

“You never before seemed one for the game. Where did all this enthusiasm come from?”

“I’ve always followed Quidditch. I’ve almost never missed a game here. I just got more into it when I made the team.”

“From quiet bystander to aspiring sports champion,” said Snape, going down his handwritten list. He wiped away the sweat that was forming on his temples. Even in October, those houses were like natural saunas. “Beckett, you never fail to confuse me.”

“Oh no, Professor. I don’t think I was ever destined to be a star Quidditch player. I’ll leave that to others. Honestly, I only tried out for the team because Harry asked me to. I know you don’t like him, but he can be tough to say no to.”

“I seem to remember Professor McGonagall mentioning that you tried out once before. Did someone have to talk you into it then?”

“Yes, I did, and no. That was when I was young and dumb. Oliver Wood was right to turn me away.”

“Then why try out this time? Potter is not _that_ indisputable.”

Rose grasped a small hand shovel to dig up the roots of a patch of daisy plants. “I needed something else to do. I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to spend my last year at school as a slave to the books. With many of my best friends gone, it seemed like a good idea.”

Snape shot her an inquiring look. “You play for the camaraderie, not the glory of it all?”

“Yes, you can say that. Really Professor, I thought you knew me by now.”

How could he? It seemed that every time Snape encountered Rose, he learned something about her that changed his perception of her. Every time they met, she became less and less the bratty child he once thought to call her. It was always an experience to interact with the grown students. But there was always something about Rose that got his attention in a way unlike his little snakes. As maddening as it seemed at the time, she deserved to be heard, and she was worth listening to.

“Might I ask you a question?” asked Snape.

“Sure, go ahead,” said Rose.

“What do you want?”

Rose turned a dirty cheek to the Potions master. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me, what is it you want from your life?”

“Like career-wise?” asked Rose as she wrinkled her eyebrow, sure that the answer was clear enough. Snape shook his head. “Beckett, I think you know as well as I do that there is more to life than work.”

_‘You’re telling me,’_ Rose thought to herself, glancing at the dots flying around the distant sky. She continued on with her digging, thinking as she went. The last time she got that question, it was in her aptitude meeting with McGonagall. As far as she knew, it generally wasn’t a question that teachers brought up in casual company, especially if that teacher was Severus Snape. She kept looking back at him as she carefully clipped off the delicate roots. “I guess the same thing a lot of people want; to make the most of what I have, and use it for good. It’s not that important, but if I go to bed knowing that I made a difference in someone else’s day, I sleep easier.”

“You enjoy helping people?”

“If I can, even if it’s the smallest of things. I know, how very Gryffindor-ish of me.” Rose carried over her basket of daisy root. Snape briefly glanced in and wrote something on his parchment.

“Dig up three more plants,” he said, and Rose promptly obeyed. “Suddenly, the whole Muggle thing makes more sense.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” said Rose.  “Sir, You-know-who is dead. They burned his body and he’s never coming back. We are on the verge of a new era, and yes, I want to be a part of that.”

Snape sat down on a nearby bench. “I’ve noticed that you seem to put others before yourself, all ego aside. Why is that?” Rose turned to him, trying her best to wipe away the dirt smeared across her cheek. “Because maybe I like to feel appreciated from time to time. Not praised, just appreciated.”

“Because you feel that you do not get enough?”

“Not always…” The young witch’s voice suddenly seemed to shrink. She busied herself with the pots in front of her. “The odd compliment around my village was alright, but to me, it felt like weeks passed between them. My home life didn’t do much to help either. You know, that was one thing I was looking forward to when I started school.”

“What do you mean?” asked Snape.

“For the first eleven years of my life, I always had a feeling like I really didn’t belong there. I made strange things happen, and no one could explain it. Do you know how people look at you when you walk by a jar of tomato sauce in the market and it suddenly explodes? Or when solid objects just vanish into thin air around you? When my acceptance letter came, my dad had to explain it all to me. I don’t think he wanted to, but it was a bit of a tough spot for my mum. I mean, how could she explain a world that she’s never seen?” Rose paused to let the Potions master nod his agreement. “The more he told me, the more everything made sense. I wasn’t mental, I was a witch. And it wasn’t just me, it was also him! To hear that there were a whole lot of us out there… Professor Snape, you have no idea how relieved I was. I felt like I didn’t belong in Meadow Hill because…because I didn’t!”

“Why were you never told that your father was a wizard?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did, and Lord knows that. Being divorced, I guess Mum just wanted to protect me for as long as she could. But it was bound to happen eventually, we all know that. And he had as much right to force his lifestyle on me as she did.” Rose collected the little pile of roots in her hands, brought them over to Snape, and presented them to him. The dark-haired wizard rose and pointed her to the door which took them to the next greenhouse. Rose went for the collection of Hellebore plants as soon as she entered, and Snape shut the door behind them.

“You know, Miss Beckett,” he said, leaning up against the wall by the door. “For a girl who spent her life living as a Muggle with no clue about her own parent’s abilities, you seem to have taken having your world ripped out from under you quite well.”

“That’s because I saw so much potential in my new life. I knew that right from the day I got my wand.” Rose had her back turned, reaching for an army knife she had in her back pocket. “It was so much better than Meadow Hill. At Hogwarts, I knew I was in a place where I fit in. For once, at least in most cases, my last name didn’t change how people looked at me. I didn’t have to walk around and feel like I was strange. As much as I like working with Muggle culture, it’s much easier to interact with them while looking through very different eyes. I’ll be honest, Professor…when I’m here, I’m much happier than at home.”

Snape listened carefully, watching Rose’s blissful face. It was touching to see the hope that radiated from her, but she obviously didn’t know how lucky she was. She didn’t have to feel like she was strange, not like how he did at her age. He would have killed to feel as content then as she was now. His lips tugged into a reluctant smile. “You must have had some dreams when you were young.”

“Yeah,” said Rose. She turned to face her teacher. “When I was eleven, I thought my future was unlimited. It was as though the headmaster opened the doors to the rest of my life with one little note. Professor, do you really want to know what I wanted?” He nodded, and Rose took in a good breath.

“I wanted to be something great. I wanted to use my magic to become something that I never would have had a shot at if I were a Muggle.”

“You know, magic can be a gift or a curse on any given day,” said Snape.

“I know that now, but like I said, I was young and dumb. But oh, I had big dreams. I saw myself rising up to do so much good that people’s heads would spin. I saw people looking up to me with real respect. My mother wouldn’t struggle to be proud of me. My father wouldn’t have to be so ashamed. To tell the truth, I wanted to be loved for everything I was…I was so naïve. It’s no wonder why I let most of that go.”

“That’s the nature of maturation.” Snape went to once again sit down on a bench, rolling up his inventory list to stick it in his pocket. “You cannot hold onto every little thing you want, as much as you would like to. You just have to learn how to live with that. I did a long time ago.”

“Why do you always have to be right?” asked Rose with a sigh. She tried to busy herself with the potted plants, dropping specimens into the basket at her feet. “Oh well, it’s like what my friend Natasha used to say. I can always hang onto the hope that one day, I’ll meet a great wizard that could still make that happen, change my life for the better.”

_‘Oh, a romantic wish of yours?’_ Snape thought. He wouldn’t dare say that out loud for he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the word-vomit that all women were capable of producing. True, she had already spilled her guts to him quite a bit more than preferred. But it wasn’t like she annoyed him with her troubles and dreams. They made her seem all the more human.

Rose brought over the basket of Hellebore plants, and Snape politely asked her to separate the flowers. He didn’t object when she sat down right where she stood on the floor beside his seat. Cross legged with her sharp knife in hand, Rose carefully stripped the delicate buds off the stalks, resting them in a smaller separate basket. They would be ground up at a later time.

“You don’t need to hold onto such a ridiculous thought,” said Snape. “Those great wizards you admire did not get there by riding someone else’s coattails. They mostly had to work for it themselves. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do, yes. It’s just that it can be easy to feel second rate around here.” Rose shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the flowers in front of her.

“With friends like yours, you do that to yourself.” Snape leaned forward and rested a hand on Rose’s shoulder. Her bright eyes found their way through curtains of black hair to make contact. “Besides, you shouldn’t have to feel like that. Alright, you are not the best at everything you learn here, but hardly anyone is. You have your strengths and weaknesses like everyone else. Don’t let them get to you. If anything, remember how you were better at potion-making than many of your classmates when you were only Third years. You know, through the years, I always had a hunch that you would grow up to be a fairly competent witch. But now I believe that you have much more potential than that.”

“You really think so?” asked Rose, her voice small.

“Sure,” said Snape. “You desire greatness, and with the right attitude, you could have it one day. Your father is in prison, any lasting renown you achieve will already be far better than that.”

“Let’s just hope that conspiracy is not a family tradition.” Both the witch and the wizard laughed, quite genuinely. They were so wrapped up in their own words that neither of them noticed the cheering heard from the Quidditch pitch as Demelza made the winning goal at practice.

Rose smiled in spite of herself. Her mood had turned for the far better in a few short minutes. Snape was almost a different man these days, when it was just them. And even if it was because of the relative privacy, their unspoken pact of silence, she couldn’t help but admire the man when his walls came down. She admired him anyway, but it felt wonderful to be treated as she always wanted. She felt more his pupil now than she ever had in eight years.

The warm feeling of a favorite student stayed with her for much of the day.


	21. Everything has its reason

White knuckles gripped the rim of the toilet bowl Severus was kneeling in front of. His entire body was in tremors as his stomach forced up what was left of what he had eaten the previous day. But no matter how many times he was sick, the nausea would not let up at all. His insides were twisted to painful levels. His throat was burning from the acid and bile, and there was no chance to try and extinguish it. His eyes also stung from the irrepressible, salty tears that now ran down a deathly white cheek. Unable to control his body, Severus fought to stop his bursts of emotion. A grown man could not allow himself to sob like a child.

But he was never this ill as a child.

Behind him, Poppy had a firm hand on his shoulder. With the other, she swept his sweaty hair back away from his face. She kept speaking to him in a quiet, comforting voice. “Easy does it, dear. I’ve got you, you’re alright.” To Severus, it was all nonsense. What the hell did she know? He wasn’t alright, not in the slightest! For Prospero’s sake, he had been trapped on the bathroom floor all morning. He couldn’t even crawl over to the sink to get a sip of water. And even if he had, it would have come right back up in minutes.

The retching finally seemed to cease, though still leaving Severus nauseated. He panted hard, just waiting for it to start again. In fact, he was heaving as though to speed it up, get it over with. Poppy was urging him to stop before he overexerted himself. That is any more than he already had. Carefully, she hooked a hand under his arm to help him to his feet. She took a wet cloth and wiped it over his mouth. Severus grasped his stomach, and Poppy rubbed his back while he leaned over the bowl. When it looked that there was indeed nothing left to throw up, the Mediwitch led Severus out of the washroom and into his bedchamber. Immediately, she told him to get into bed.

“It’s a good thing I thought to come down here when you were late to your appointment,” said Poppy, draping the sheets over Severus’s legs. “Why didn’t you tell me that your morning sickness was this severe?”

“It wasn’t,” Severus moaned into his pillow. “I hardly felt ill at all the last few days. Up until today, I was fine.”

“Oh goodness, I should have warned you! Morning sickness can have tendencies to come and go in waves. You can be very ill one day, and perfectly healthy the next.”

“I don’t care, it’s still horrid.” The ailing wizard lay on his side, curling in around his troubled stomach. Poppy quickly decided that it was a good idea to transfigure a bucket beside the bed. She noticed the drying trails left by tears and sat down on the bed. “You will be alright, dear. It is only temporary.”

“Is it?” Severus bit out, his tone laced with spiteful sarcasm. Drained of energy and will power, Severus gave up any thought of a fight and fixated on trying to ride out the nausea.

Poppy gently eased Severus over until he was on his back. “While I’m here, I suppose I should check you over. I would have done so anyway.” Severus just nodded, swallowing that terrible taste.

Poppy spent the next fifteen minutes or so waving her wand over Severus’s body, casting charms to check both the child’s development, and its father’s current condition. The entire time, the elderly witch had that same look of concentration etched into the lines in her face. Severus chose to keep his eyes closed so as to not see this expression, or any changes to it. He didn’t want to know what she was doing, or what she was thinking to do.

“Alright then,” Poppy said, attracting Severus’s attention as she tucked her wand away. “The baby is growing as expected for this stage, and it still appears to be doing well. Right now, you are a little dehydrated, and I’m worried that you still are not getting the proper nutrition. I understand if you are not up to eating something for now, but I’m serious when I say that I want you to start eating better, without someone telling you to do it.” Severus managed to give his eyes a little roll. “In the meantime, I want you to drink lots of fluids to replenish the ones you have already lost.”

“How can I? It will just come back up.”

“Oh Severus, I highly doubt that. I believe the worst of it might be over for now. I think you can manage a glass or two of water.” Poppy solidified her order by actually summoning a glass of water to the bedside table. Severus turned his head in complete disgust, already feeling the slow roll deep inside. He was soon back on his side, head hovering over the bucket. And within minutes of that, he felt fire shoot up his throat. Poppy continued to whisper comforting words to him as he vomited. When he was through, the glass of water was next to his face.

“Rinse and spit, dear.” Severus listened to the Mediwitch and washed his mouth out, spitting the water out to mix with his own sick. Poppy banished the mess with a quick flick of her wand. “I won’t penalize you if you choose to stay in bed today. I wouldn’t want to take the chance if I were in your place. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“You could give me a potion so I don’t have to stay in bed,” Severus croaked. “I ran out two days ago.”

Poppy’s face wrinkled around her eyes. “Severus,” she said, obviously uneasy. “How often do you take your Anti-nausea Potions? Every other day?”

“I take them when I need them. I have to function somehow.”

“Yes, but do you take them when you feel a little bit nauseous, or only when it’s this bad?”

“Whenever I fucking need them,” Severus growled out as he gripped the sheets. “I keep a stock in my office so I don’t have to suffer through my classes. You try to work when your stomach is rebelling against you, even a little. Please Poppy, I know you have them. Just let me have one so we can both get on with our day.”

“But Severus, I can’t do that.”

The pale-as-parchment, deathly ill wizard looked at Poppy with a gutted, desperate expression. “Why not, you insufferable woman?! I feel like I’m dying here!”

“I know that, but you sound like you use that potion on a fairly regular basis, even when I told you to use it only when it was _absolutely necessary._ Believe me Severus, I want to help you as much as I possibly can. But my concern is that if you keep that up, your body will build up an immunity. You could have another morning like this, drink the potion, and find that it no longer works. Personally, I am not willing to take a chance on that happening. Your best bet is to ride this one out, give your system a break. I suggest that you start trying other remedies as an alternative. A few crackers before rising could be helpful on more moderate days.”

Severus rolled onto his back, clenching his eyes shut as though to say something along the lines of _You-stupid-old-broad_. Settling into the mattress, he tried to calmly breathe away the gut-twisting pain with not much success. Feeling terribly sympathetic, Poppy rested a gentle hand on his abdomen, rubbing in comforting circles. Severus, to her surprise, made no move to stop her. “I know, dear. I know it’s dreadful. But really, this is a good thing. This is your body doing as it should. Your hormones are working hard to sustain your pregnancy.”

“While making me feel like complete shit,” moaned Severus. “Poppy, I am so tired of this.”

“It will get better, Severus. The morning sickness will let up eventually. At best, you will only have to deal with this for a few more weeks.”

“And what happens after that? You said it yourself that there will be other things to watch out for.”

Poppy looked to the ceiling with a sigh. “Oh Severus, don’t mind that. You shouldn’t focus too much on that anyway. You have a baby to think about.”

“Sorry to break your heart, but I don’t want to think about that. I don’t even feel pregnant in the slightest. It just feels like I’ve got a bad case of the flu. What the hell am I talking about? I’m not supposed to feel pregnant!” Severus brought his hand up to massage his temple.

“That will change soon enough,” said Poppy. “Just you wait until you start showing. I bet it will feel all the more real then.”

“Poppy, don’t!” Severus barked sharply. He quickly wiped away what remained of those degrading tears and let his arm rest beside him.

Poppy now could not tell if this was illness or emotional distress. As stubborn and maddening as Severus could be at times, she couldn’t help but look at him now and see the boy he once was. She was reminded of that night many years ago, the night she had to deliver a Calming Draught to a very frightened lad who had been pulled from the grips of a werewolf. But he was so young then. If anything scared Severus now, he had too much pride inside to let it show. _‘Poor thing, he must be terrified.’_

She leaned forward and touched Severus’s pale cheek. He opened his disturbingly hollow eyes to look at her. “How about this? If you are not feeling better by tonight, you can have your potion. Would you like that?” Severus merely nodded, providing Poppy with a little comfort. She ended up sitting there with him until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

**~HP~**

Severus would wake repeatedly throughout the morning, mostly to vomit into the charmed bucket beside the bed. Nothing in his being could have persuaded him to challenge Poppy’s request that he stay in bed. He wouldn’t rather be anywhere else at the moment. He was terribly ill, but at least he was terribly ill in the comfort of his own rooms.

He did not see much of anyone after Poppy left. He had half-expected that he would have to deal with an onslaught of company. Poppy must have passed on the message that he was not feeling well at all, and that it was best that he be left alone. Minerva did pop in for a short visit, but only to check that he was not letting himself get more dehydrated, which he was not. She also managed to scrape together three bottles of Nourishment Draught, a little potion that acted as a meal supplement for the ailing or those battling an eating disorder. She assured Severus that he should drink them only when he felt up to it.

Just one of those bottles lay empty when the clock in the sitting room chimed noon. Six hours in, and Severus felt no better. This could not be normal, he thought to himself. He should have been able to get up two hours ago. But still, what could he do? There was still a long stretch of time before he could have the relief he so desperately wanted. He had long surrendered to lying on his side and waiting for the next wave of nausea to pass. And he was doing exactly that when the handle on the bedroom door creaked open. Dumbledore stepped in, barely making a sound as he walked across the floor.

“What do you want, Headma…Albus?” said Severus in a gutted groan.

“I wanted to see how you were coping. Poppy told me that you were in a pretty bad way this morning.” The old wizard stopped to take in the sight of the younger one, still in his nightclothes, lying in bed, curled in a rigid, angled ball. He felt his chest twist with compassion. Poppy wasn’t kidding! “I suppose I don’t have to ask how you are feeling.” Severus sneered, albeit weakly. He rested his head down onto his pillow. Albus looked down and noticed the bucket. “Oh goodness, you’re not still getting sick, are you?”

“It comes and goes, but I still feel horrible.” As if on perfect cue, Severus was hit by a particularly nasty wave. Instinctively, he pushed himself forward over the edge. “Oh…oh god!” he hissed through his teeth. Albus supported him with a firm hand on his shoulder, and they rode it out together. Severus collapsed back down and sighed, thankful to be spared of any retching in front of the headmaster.

“I’m sure you’ve heard enough of this,” said Albus. “But it’ll be alright. You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

“That’s what I thought hours ago,” growled Severus. “Albus, I can’t take it anymore. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

“I know, Severus –,”

“No, you don’t!” Severus snapped at the wizard trying to comfort him. “You don’t know what it’s like to wake up every day and feel worse than you ever have in your life. You don’t know what it’s like to have your emotions hanging by a thread, to be smothered by everyone around you and not being able to stop it. And you certainly don’t know what it’s like to know it’s all because of a little speck feeding off you. Albus, you don’t know what it’s like to be pregnant, so don’t talk to me like you do!”

Albus sighed. “You’re right, I don’t know. But Severus, I’m just trying to help you. You know that, right?” Severus pretended to ignore the older wizard, staring at the not-too-distant wall. “Anyway, you just have to remember that this is a good sign. As rough as it seems now, this is a normal and relatively treatable part of having a baby. If anything, remember that the child is doing just fine.”

“Of course _the child_ is doing just fine. Probably doesn’t even look human yet, and already it’s causing trouble. Albus, why would anyone actually want to put themselves through this? I’ve been beaten, bruised, scarred, hexed, and cursed a million times over. And yet I look back on that and still think that this has been worse. The Dark Lord’s work only lasted a few hours if I was lucky. I’m stuck suffering like this for nearly the whole school year.”

“Oh dear boy, it’s not suffering. Once you hold that baby in your arms, you’ll forget all about this illness and fatigue and –,”

“Albus, you don’t understand!” exclaimed Severus, abruptly sitting up in bed. He stared passed Albus’s glasses, straight into his bright blue eyes. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to spend the next year in agony for an unplanned child that I’m not even sure that I want.”

“Severus –,”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I was never supposed to end up like this; bloody fucking raped and knocked up by it.”

“Severus!” Albus raised his voice as he planted his hands on Severus’s shoulders. “It was not your fault, no matter what you think. You couldn’t have prevented this pregnancy if you knew it was possible in the first place.”

“It’s more than just that,” said Severus, his deep eyes slowly welling up. “I accepted that I was never going to have the family I wanted. The last few years really made that clear. But I never would have sunk to this level, carrying a child myself. It’s just not natural! I cannot accept a child that came from something so perverted and miserable. I don’t want everything to come to a screeching halt because of this child.”

“Tell me the truth,” said Albus. “Are you afraid that the child will remind you of how it was conceived?” Severus reluctantly nodded, one tear escaping his now closed eye. Albus felt a knot in both his chest and his throat. Wherever this was going, it could not be good. “Are you saying that you don’t want to keep this child after all?”

“I don’t know,” Severus croaked, his voice constricted by his distress. “I wish to God that I did. I know I told you I wouldn’t abort it, but it feels like all the walls are closing in on me. You have no idea what I have to do to stay calm in front of the kids. It’s too much, Albus.”

“I understand, Severus. Anyone in your position would be overwhelmed. But you’re only two months gone. No one is asking you to make a decision right this instant. You have a lot of time to think things over, make the necessary changes. Having a child is a massive undertaking, but it’s one a lot of people have done before. You could do it just as well…but if it’s your decision to give the child up for adoption, then that’s your choice. Let me just say one thing.”

“What?” asked Severus.

“I don’t believe that your pregnancy was as unplanned as you think. I don’t choose to see it as a completely random act of magic that chance and unfortunate circumstances produced.”

Severus listened impatiently, and his aching gut had very little to do with that. “Then what is it to you?”

Albus folded his hands and relaxed them into his lap. He looked at Severus with a brightly optimistic glance. “This is your chance at happiness, my boy. Obviously, someone up there is looking out for you, thought you deserved better than a life on your own. This is your chance to have the family you should have had long ago.”

“Call me mad, Albus, but I always had the thought that a wife would be involved somewhere along the way,” said Severus. “Given my career, my reputation, and now my condition, I doubt _that’s_ ever going to happen.”

“Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you.” Albus spoke softly with a smile. “But even if a romantic life isn’t in the cards for you, you will still have a son or daughter who will love you unconditionally. I think you will end up content with your life in the end.”

Severus sighed as he hunched over, propping himself up with his elbows on his thighs. His head was starting to ache from the onslaught of thoughts and conflict at war in his mind. He knew that Albus meant well, and he knew that the old man wanted to see him happy one day. But he couldn’t make his decisions any easier if he thought it possible. Severus felt utterly trapped, and Albus could not provide him with a way out. “I wish I knew what to tell you, Albus. There are just so many things preventing me from seeing any gain in this mess. I can’t help but wonder if giving the child up is the best thing to do.”

“It might be, though I doubt that is the case. You’ve helped to bring up some fine kids, whether you see it or not. Have a little confidence in yourself, son. Fate gave you this child. I like to think that it was for good reason.” Albus leaned in closer to Severus’s pale face. “Who knows? Maybe Lily put in a good word for you.”

_“You are meant to live your life out after these dark days. Severus, you have the chance to get everything you wanted. You can finally get what you truly deserve.”_

For a brief moment, Severus’s lasting nausea was replaced by an empty sinking feeling. He suddenly remembered the sight of his late love, her soothing words to him. He remembered her promises, promises that felt so empty, but still so stirring. In those first agonizing days after the Dark Lord’s defeat, it was a comforting thought to him. But he had ultimately dismissed it as an extreme hallucination brought on by his near-death experience. Up until recently, it was nothing more than a recurring dream. If it really was her, she couldn’t have meant anything like this. No, it couldn’t be! Lily would never have wanted anyone to suffer like he was now. She wouldn’t have wished it on her worst enemy, perhaps not even on the Dark Lord himself.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up on that one,” he said, his tone falling into an exhausted drone. Letting his upper body drop back down onto the bed, Severus pressed a hand to his forehead. He felt Albus carefully rubbing his upper arm and shoulder.

“Get some rest, my boy. We shall miss you at supper. I’ll see you in the morning.” The headmaster rose to his feet and turned for the door. He didn’t know whether to be amused or disheartened when he heard Severus’s voice coming. “At this rate, I don’t know if I can guarantee that.”

**~HP~**

Another two hours of steady sleep left Severus feeling surprisingly better. The upset in his stomach was still there, but he thought it felt much better than what he had endured for most of the day. He felt well enough to finally get out of bed and dress himself. But regardless, he thought it was best to continue to play it safe and stay in his quarters. He relaxed on his bed for several moments, taking the opportunity to drink his second Nourishment Draught. He couldn’t consider solid food now even if he wanted it. He eventually felt brave enough to move to his sitting room, and he spent his afternoon reading on his sofa. Suppertime came and went, and another bottle lay empty on the end table.

Severus soon looked up at the clock and noticed the later hour. It suddenly occurred to him that he had some work left over from the day before, work that had to be done before the next day’s classes. He knew that he should still be taking it easy as he still only felt around fifty percent. But he couldn’t leave it until the morning. Why try and compensate then when he could do it now while he could function? Against his better judgment, Severus left the safety of his quarters for his classroom.

He quickly came to regret his decision. The longer he was on his feet, crossing the room several times and setting up for the next day’s lessons, the worse his stomach felt. He hoped it was just lasting aches and sat down at his desk. Even then, the sickening churning got progressively worse. Severus thought with horror of the possibility that his system was kicking back the potions he drank. It could happen, it just had to happen to him, happen now. He leaned on the aging wood, grasping at his abdomen. Sweat was forming on his temples as his mouth filled with saliva.

“Eh-hem…”

Startled, Severus looked up to the door where the voice came from. Leaning against the doorframe, Rose stood there in a jumper and light jeans. Her red hair was hanging in a neat braid which rested against her collarbone. Her wand was tucked into her belt. The look on her face was cautious; she appeared to be a bit nervous when her professor caught sight of her.

“Beckett…what are you doing here?”

“I still have detention tonight, don’t I?” said Rose, sounding as nervous as she looked. Snape’s stomach turned, this time out of the stun of that. He completely forgot about her! How could he let himself do something like that? Forgetting to grade a stack of quizzes was one thing; that was excusable. But it was something else entirely to let something like a detention session slip your mind, especially one as routine and drawn out as Rose Beckett’s.

“Oh…um…yes, yes you do.” Snape said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Rose stepped forward and said, “That’s what I thought. Since no one’s seen you today, everyone was telling me to skip out on you. I thought it was a good idea to at least come down and check.”

“Sensible,” said Snape. He really wasn’t in the mood for chit-chat right now, even with her. He repeated to himself over and over again to not let his queasiness trigger his temper. He took deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself. “Have a seat. I’ll think of something for you.”

Rose pulled up a stool at a front desk and sat down. She waited in silence for Snape to give her a command. But quite a few minutes passed by without even a suggestion. Having gotten so used to manual labor that ranged from the mundane, to the tiring, to the disgusting, it was strange to be just sitting there. Snape, it seemed, was bent on doing everything himself for once. Rose followed him with her eyes. She watched him sorting papers, arranging jars and bottles, summoning brewing tools, a typical Sunday evening for a professor she guessed. But the more Rose stared at Snape, the more she thought she should be doing this all for him. There was no color in his face, pale as liquid parchment. She noticed the glaze of perspiration across his sickly skin. And periodically, he would stop in his tracks and lean against the nearest surface, alternating between hard pants and shallow breaths.

“Professor Snape, are you okay?”

“What?” The Potions master jerked his head in her direction, like he had forgotten she was there again. Rose stood and carefully walked toward him, feeling a building tension in her chest. “Sir, you look horrible. Are you feeling alright?”

Snape thought to lie to her to calm her nerves, but a charade like that would be pointless. He knew he looked like death, and felt every bit of it. But he still didn’t want to have Rose worrying about him when she really didn’t have to. “I’m fi…” He was stopped when the room seemed to start spinning. He gripped the counter, feeling the cold sweat coming on. “No…I’m not.”

“You’re not?” asked Rose, coming closer. “Talk to me, sir. What’s going on?”

“I have been ill the whole day. I thought I was alright. Don’t mind me, I can manage.” He looked up at Rose and suddenly saw her form double before him. The student came back into view as a new wave swept over him. “Merlin…I’m going to be sick!” He made a move for the sink.

In a move right out of a DADA practical, Rose grabbed her wand, whipped it at a stool which skidded over to Snape, turned on the sink faucet with another flick, tucked it into her belt again, and then turned her face away. She shielded her eyes with her hand. Her insides twisted with compassion as she listened to Snape’s attempts to retch, but she was held back by her boundaries. She wanted to be of more help to the professor she admired so greatly, it just wasn’t her place.

The dry heaving slowly and erratically came to a stop. Rose lowered her hand and turned back. Snape eased down onto the stool, still gripping the sink brim. The young witch came up on his left side. “You okay now?” she asked.

“Yes,” Snape sighed. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m in no state to do this.”

“I should say not. You should be in bed.”

“Honestly, Miss Beckett, I was in bed enough today.” The Potions master was clutching his abdomen again, swallowing a gag or two. He shook his head at Rose with a defeated frown. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this tonight. I’ll let you have the night off. I suppose you’ve earned it.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Rose, her worry wringing her fingers.

“Yes, I’m sure. Just get out of here, please.”

“Don’t you want me to finish setting up for tomorrow’s lessons?”

Snape tried not to growl. That was a close enough call; he did not want to be sick in front of a student, much less Rose. He cursed the very persistence that he had been so keen on. “No, I will worry about that tomorrow. Now go! Scram!”

“No!” Rose barked at Snape. He jerked back, startled. But her demeanor did not give off the slightest trace of anger. In fact, the look on her face bore a striking resemblance to Poppy’s that morning. She finally rested her gentle hand on his arm. “I know you won’t admit it, but you look like you need some help. There must be something I can do for you.”

“There is nothing you can do,” said Snape. “It’s beyond your control.”

“C’mon Professor, work with me. Do you have anything you can take?” Rose received a slow head shake. “Well, would you like me to make something for you, an Anti-nausea Potion?”

He wasn’t entirely sure if he could wait for a potion. He probably would feel better if he could just throw up. But he remembered what Poppy said. He could have it now if he only had the strength to brew it. And he considered Rose to be totally trustworthy in her brewing. She could brew this potion with her hands tied behind her back. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

“It’s not,” said Rose.

Lightly nudging her to the side, Snape stood and walked over to his desk. He opened one drawer to rummage through his collection of odd papers. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose going for a discarded copy of her textbook. Of course she knew it was in there, he thought. “Not that one, Miss Beckett.” Snape was met by a puzzled glance from Rose, already well into the pages. He found the delicately written instructions for Poppy and Pomona’s safer recipe and held it out to her. “Use this one, it’s not much different. You’ll find everything you need in my stores.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Rose. “You know, you don’t have to watch me. I’m not going to poison you. Go sit in your office, stay close to the loo. I’ll have it for you as soon as possible.”

She dashed into Snape’s now open office. Already, he could hear the stockroom door opening with a squeak. Heavy tapping, that’s when he realized she was up the step ladder. Snape half-expected to see her come out weighed down by ingredients, possibly dropping a jar or two. But it turned out that she made two trips, pushing past him at the door on her second exit.

Though he knew he didn’t have to, Snape did indeed watch Rose for a moment from his office door. She was blissfully unaware of this intrusion as she carefully read the directions, prepared the various herbs and other ingredients, and deposited them into an abandoned cauldron. She didn’t even appear curious as to why it was not the standard book version she was working on. She simply went about her work. She was doing her part to help him. As appreciative as Severus was, he was also confused.

This would not have happened three or four weeks ago. Rose would not have given up her freedom to brew a potion so he could feel better. The last time he allowed her to go very early, she ran out of there so fast that her cleaning tools could have hung in the air. And as well as they got on now, Severus saw no reason for it to be different. Silently, he ran through every possibility. He knew she regarded him with high respect, she said so herself on numerous occasions. But then again, so did many of the Slytherins. Where were they now? There had to be more to it than that. Maybe she thought she owed him something for some reason. Maybe it was for playing therapist a few times, maybe it was something else.

Severus pored over his memories of her in past years, searching for something that would stick out in both their minds. There wasn’t much to choose from, Rose had always been so anonymous to him when she was younger. It wasn’t the flaming hair mishap; she was more humiliated than relieved after he put her out. But he had to have done something else for her besides give her those well-deserved good grades.

Suddenly, his rapid thoughts came to a halt. There was that one night three years before…

**_~Flashback~_ **

_Dolores Umbridge really was a psychotic bitch. Severus knew this before anyone else had the misfortune to find out. And right from the word go, Severus had a gut feeling that the short, stocky woman was worthy of his deepest loathing. It didn’t have much to do with the fact that she had stolen the DADA position from him; if he believed anything that the Slytherins were giggling about, he was already far superior than she could ever hope to be. His teaching could make the little cat-loving cur’s head spin. He had nothing to worry about with that. In truth, Snape hated Umbridge just for being so barking mad. In his eyes, she was encroaching on his territory. It had taken Severus fourteen years to build up his reputation as the school’s most hated professor. Umbridge had only been in the school for fourteen minutes and had been able to achieve the same with him. And within fourteen days of that, the entire Hogwarts population caught up. The fact that he was seen as relatively tolerable now was enough to make Severus teeth-gnashing angry. Really, who did she think she was? And the interrogating! Ah, the interrogating! And why the woman saw the need to wear more pink than most had seen in their lives was just beyond Severus’s comprehension._

_All Severus could really do was to do whatever he could to stay in Umbridge’s favor. The last thing he needed was to be sacked, Dark Lord or no Dark Lord. He also had to do his best to maintain his cruel disciplines. After all, he had reduced some of these children to tears. She hadn’t been able to do that yet, had she? Making teenagers angry was one thing, but humiliating them in that way was a completely different thing. He couldn’t soften up. He couldn’t let himself feel sorry for a student, no matter what. Therefore, he could not allow his menacing ways to falter._

_It was just that that led him to a startling discovery._

_It was ten o’clock at night in early October. Severus stalked through the dark corridors of the dungeons, on the prowl for students out of bed. For once, the castle was strangely quiet. So quiet, it was actually a bit eerie. But at least there was no trouble in his sights. It seemed that even Potter had better, more sensible things to do. Severus found himself deciding that it was a better idea to just give up the search for nothing and take an early night. Images of a bottle of scotch and a good book in front of the fire flashing through his mind, he turned in the direction of his quarters._

_Just then, Severus heard a noise. His eyebrow arching, he turned around to listen. It was as soft as it was sudden, but it was there all the same. It was the sound of sniffling followed by a quiet sobbing. Someone was crying. Severus could easily tell that it was a female voice. It didn’t sound too young and childish, but it didn’t quite have the mature sobbing of a grown woman. Severus concluded that it had to be a fourth or fifth year student. And judging from the echo, she was somewhere down in the dungeons. Seeing that it could be one of his Slytherins, Severus decided to investigate. He turned his lit wand back down the black void._

_Severus began to retrace his steps through every dark, dank hall below the castle, following the sniveling voice. With every step, he could hear himself getting closer. And in time, Severus finally came to discover that the voice was just around the corner from where he now stood. Very slowly he came around, pointing his wand ahead of him. At first, he saw nothing. But then he looked down._

_Rose Beckett, then a Fifth year, was sitting on the floor. Even in the darkness, her eyes were quite visibly red and tears still ran down her pale face. She was clutching her left hand in her right, her knuckles white. She looked up at the offending light and coward when she saw just who the wielder of the wand was. “Professor Snape!” she squeaked, rather uncharacteristically for her._

_“Miss Beckett, what are you doing down here at this hour?” Severus was actually rather curious about the appearance of this particularly random Gryffindor._

_“I…I…um…uh…I…” she stammered, obviously shaken._

_“Out with it, Beckett.”_

_“I was on my way back up to my common room, but the staircase changed on me. From where I ended up, the only way back was to go around.” Severus shook his head to himself. That was a pathetic excuse if he ever heard one. Rose continued. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll just go” She tried to stand. But when she eased up on the pressure she kept on her hand, she fell back down hissing in pain. It was then that Snape saw the blood running down her hand._

_“What happened to your hand?”_

_“Nothing sir,” Rose was quick to answer the question._

_“You are bleeding, that is nothing?”_

_“I cut my hand on some broken glass. It was an accident, I can handle it. I’m sorry, I’m leaving. Please don’t give me detention.” Rose tried to stand again._

_Snape stepped forward, shoving his wand in her face. “Stay there,” he said. As Rose eased back down onto the ground, Severus got down on his knees and set his wand down on the floor beside him. Not exactly caring for the girl’s personal space, Severus gently pried her right hand away from her wounded left. He was dumbfounded by what he saw. It was not the jagged gash of an accidental injury. It was small words etched deep into pale flesh, as though hand written, that read_ ‘I must not start fights.’ _The words were still oozing blood. If Snape didn’t know any better, he would say that Rose had done this to herself. There was just one thing; he had heard that cutters usually didn’t cry._

_“This was an accident?” Snape dared her to answer, though Rose seemed to be paralyzed by his touch. She probably wanted to run all the way back to London now. She slowly nodded, but Snape was not convinced. “Then why have you not gone up to the Infirmary?”_

_“I told you, Professor, I can handle it myself.”_

_Snape let go and stood, picking up his wand. He knew that Rose didn’t have much intention of going into Healing, and he certainly knew that this was beyond the first aid skills of the average fifteen year-old. Not even Snape himself knew what possessed him to do what he was about to. “Keep pressure on it,” he said in a low voice. “Come with me.” He looked down on the puzzled girl before he turned to walk away. He picked up speed only when he heard a second set of footsteps behind him. Not once did Severus turn to look back at the scared, injured student. He reached the door to his office and stopped to let Rose catch up. Then he led her inside._

_Rose was cautious as the door was shut behind her. Snape motioned for her to sit down in the chair before his desk. Once she had done what he had asked of her, Snape walked over to a set of drawers on one wall of the room. The Potions master could feel his student’s light eyes watching him as he easily found what he was looking for. He returned to his desk with two small potion bottles, a small towel, gauze, and a roll of bandages. He glared at Rose as he sat down and laid the towel out on the desktop._

_“Give me your hand,” he demanded, but Rose just held her hand tighter as she shook her head, wide-eyed. Snape rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to harm you, Miss Beckett. Now give me your hand.” He noticed Rose swallow hard as she held out her shaking, bloody hand. He took it in his own as he uncorked the bottle of Sterilizing Solution._

_“I trust you know that this will hurt,” he said as Rose nodded. He then tipped the bottle over to let the cold liquid pour over the carved out sentence. Rose cried out through clenched teeth and clamped eyes as the burn of the potion shot through her entire hand, sending fresh tears down her face. The white towel on the table was stained pink and pale red. Severus watched as she gripped the arm of her chair with her free bloodstained hand. Once he had cleaned out the wound and dabbed away what remained of the acidic brew, Severus opened up the second bottle, a small supply of Essence of Dittany. He had to get those words to start closing up. He soaked a bit of gauze in the dark, cloudy mixture before beginning to slowly rub it over Rose’s hand._

_“Professor,” said Rose, wiping her eyes dry with the sleeve of her robe. “Why are you doing this?”_

_“It’s rather simple, Miss Beckett,” Severus said with a calm tone. “I couldn’t possibly believe that you were capable of handling this yourself.”_

_“You underestimate my abilities, Professor.”_

_Severus glared at her. “Is that so? You, like too many Gryffindors before you, are too proud for your own good. Hmm…could be why you refused to see Madam Pomfrey.”_

_“I would have gone to her if it got infected.”_

_“Why wait until then? Unless it has something to do with how you managed to obtain this peculiar injury.” Rose opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. It seemed to Severus that her answer wasn’t good enough and she knew it. He sneered as he turned his attention back to her hand. “You cannot possibly think that I’m going to ignore that. I have seen many things in my day, but a statement carved into someone’s hand was never one of them. Curious…very curious indeed.”_

_Rose’s expression got surprisingly defensive amidst her fretfulness. “Are you saying that you think I did this to myself?” she said in a low, tense voice. “And on purpose?”_

_“It would make more sense than it being an accident,” said Snape. “Miss Beckett, these wounds are very deep. If you did not cut out the words, then who did?”_

_“Um…no one,” The reply was quick, like Rose hadn’t put much thought into it. Snape raised his black brow. “Oh, so then you did do this –,”_

_“No!” Rose shouted. “It wasn’t me. I swear on my life, sir.” She tried to pull her hand back, but Snape held on tightly without very much effort. He continued rubbing the gauze over the slowly healing sentence, now with a bit more force._

_“Then tell me who is responsible for this,” he said, letting aggravation seep into his tone. “If another inflicted such harm on you, then it would seem appropriate that they face the consequences.”_

_Rose shrank back as far as she could, trying to sink back into her chair. Snape looked into her eyes and there was the fear again. No questions asked, someone or something was making her withhold the truth. But if it wasn’t him, then who? “Miss Beckett, get over yourself and tell me. Who are you trying to protect?”_

_“It isn’t that, Professor,” said Rose. “I…I just can’t tell you…it’s a delicate situation.”_

_Snape cocked his eyebrow at her, reaching for the roll of white dressings. “A delicate situation? Is that all you can come up with?”_

_“I thought you would say that. Well believe me or not, it’s true. I’m sorry Professor, but I can take care of this myself. You don’t have to go and get involved, because that would make things worse.”_

_By this point, Severus was wondering if one of his Slytherins had something to do with this. He did find her in their territory after all, and her wounds were still fresh. While he encouraged the rivalry between houses, he would not allow them to sink to the level of permanently scarring others. And if they had, had they done it to others as well? He remembered something all of a sudden. Potter had been walking around with a bandaged left hand recently. And so had that Sixth year boy from Hufflepuff, and that couple of Fourth year Ravenclaws. Snape tried to find some connection between the five of them. Not all of them had known troubles with other students, yet they all ended up with bloodied dressings. Potter had also stayed out of his hair lately. He was more Umbridge’s problem lately, serving pointless detentions for so-called lies…wait. Potter’s bandages appeared not long after. The same thing happened with those other three students. Severus felt stunned when he remembered Umbridge mentioning something about Rose’s “barbaric behavior” towards Pansy Parkinson earlier that afternoon._

_No…_

_Snape carefully tore off a length of the bandages and started wrapping it around Rose’s injured hand. He decided not to pressure her for answers. If he was right, then it really was a delicate situation. “If you are going to be stubborn and hold your tongue, then I suppose that is your choice. But when Professor McGonagall corners you tomorrow, don’t tell her that I did nothing.” He tied it off and let Rose pull her hand back against her chest. “Make sure that you change those dressings every few hours. Keep applying Dittany if you don’t want any obvious scarring.”_

_Rose was quiet as she waited for Snape to write out a note for her, to prevent further trouble for being out past curfew. She was just as quiet as she took it and made a move for the door. But before she left, she glanced back at the Potions master at his desk. Thanks were just on the tip of her tongue, but for whatever reason, she could not do it. She left him alone without a word._

**_~End Flashback~_ **

It was doubtful that Rose would have forgotten something like that. It was a simple act of pity that she thought could never happen at the time. She most likely wasn’t too pleased with herself after he told Minerva their little story, thus opening the floodgates to Ministry domination at Hogwarts. But it was evident in her mannerisms in the following months that she did appreciate what he did. She could not thank him with words, so there had to be another way to express that gratitude. Perhaps she had been trying to find some way to repay him for years.

Severus had taken to sitting at his office wingchair, listening to Rose work from the other room. He tried to distract himself by reading with some moderate success. Shifty black eyes kept glancing at the clock, ticking obnoxiously with every second. An hour and a half after she arrived, Rose came into his office. She blew on the steaming goblet she carried delicately in her hands.

“Here you are, sir,” she said. “It’s a little hot, but I didn’t want to make you wait.”

Snape accepted the goblet with his thanks. At first, he found himself questioning how she managed the changes to the brewing. A quick look at the liquid and a whiff of the fumes suggested that she had done nothing wrong. Relieved, Snape tipped back a good amount of the potion in one sip. He noticed that Rose was still standing in the middle of the room.

“There was quite a lot left over, so I put aside some extra doses for you to keep should you need them. Everything is already cleaned up, don’t worry about anything.”

“You really didn’t have to do that,” said Snape.

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” Rose stepped over to the second chair and sat down on the very edge of the cushion. She bent over to lean her elbows on her knees. “It was the least I could do.”

“But why? What did I do for you to deserve this favor?”

“Who said anything about that? Do all Slytherins think you have to do something to get something in return? Professor, you’ve done a lot for all of us. But I did this because I wanted to do something nice. I’ve caused you enough stress this term. Besides, I doubt you could have brewed that on your own in your condition.”

The dreaded _c-word_ failed to catch Snape’s attention. He hardly knew what to say to Rose, especially when he saw such raw honesty in her face. She wasn’t playing with him, she meant it. And she obviously cared for his wellbeing if she was still there to be sure he drank the whole dose. “Yes…um…thank you, Miss Beckett. That was all very considerate.” Uncomfortable, he let his gaze wander from her face down to her left hand. “So those scars that Umbridge left you with have healed up nicely.”

“Oh yeah,” said Rose, glancing down at her hand where the words were now barely visible. “I kept using Dittany, just like you said. It sure worked; my mum didn’t notice them until I pointed them out to her.” She glanced around the room, toward the desk. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever said this, but I appreciate what you did that night. It was very kind of you.”

Snape’s lips tugged into a small smile. It felt surprisingly wonderful to finally get that thank-you after three years. “You didn’t think you could ever say that, did you?”

“Not out loud, but times change, I guess. I’m sorry I never told you that to your face. Awfully rude of me…now that you mention it, maybe I did owe you a favor after all.” Rose giggled to herself, with Snape quietly laughing in the background. She looked back to him with a warm smile.

“You really are a good kid,” Snape said after downing the last drops of potion. “Forgive me for telling you something I’m sure you have heard a thousand times.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Rose. Her bright eyes fell to the floor before she brought them up rather sheepishly. “Do you really mean that?”

The Potions master felt an odd shiver at her inquiry. Warmth spread through his body as the potion took its effect. “I do. I do not know many young people who would put themselves in your current place, and by their own choice. If I’m honest, I do not know many people who would show me that level of compassion.”

“Aw, Professor,” Rose blushed hard and stood to look down at him. “Don’t degrade yourself like that, it surely isn’t true. And you should know that I save my compassion only for those who deserve it.”

The peculiar feeling in Snape’s chest moved down into his stomach. But for once, he had no fear of being sick. Severus had enough kindness in his life to keep him just about content, especially these days. But why did it have to feel so strange here? He knew Rose by now, such kindness should not come as a surprise. Yet here he was, still taken by her little gestures. He could feel the color creeping into the paled skin of his cheeks. Rose didn’t seem to mind as she bent over to get closer.

“I’m going to go scrub my cauldron, then I’m going to go.” she said. “I really hope you feel better, sir. If there’s anything else you need –,”

“That’s alright, Miss Beckett. You have already done more than I could ask for. Don’t act as though you owe me a life-debt.”

“Don’t blame me, I can’t help myself.” Rose giggled again, coaxing a smirk out of her tired professor. Casually, she made her way over to the door. “See you in class tomorrow.” And like that, with a smile and a flash of red hair, she was gone. Touched, Severus listened and waited for Rose to finish cleaning up after herself, and he did not rise from his chair until she had left for the night. Passing through his classroom before heading back to his quarters, Severus noticed how Rose left his ingredients neatly lined up on his desk. She knew better than to try and put things away without his precise instructions. Severus saw this and realized that if she had gotten the green light from him, she probably would have offered her total servitude that night.

There were people who would do anything they could to help him. But Severus went to bed that night feeling more cared for than he had in weeks.


	22. In her eyes

The next few days turned out to be quite rough. Severus’s morning sickness did not improve at all from that Sunday. If anything, it only got more unpredictable. Saltines before rising did seem to help for a while, but then the smell of food in the Great hall would send Severus dashing for the staffroom. Whether it went away on its own or he resorted to the liquid remedy, the nausea always came back eventually. And each attack was just as horrendous as the last. Severus had not felt so weak in a long time, his strength draining with each passing hour. One Sixth year class had to be cancelled, which was good for them considering it was first thing in the morning. Another class, the double class of Gryffindor/Slytherin Fourth years, was cut short mid-lesson when he started to feel lightheaded.

Severus’s mental state was fairing no better than his physical health. He was frustrated with his body, he was frustrated with the people around him, and he was frustrated with himself. Albus obviously meant well; he made no secret that he wanted to see Severus raise the child. But even he had to see that the odds were against them. Severus had come from such a sad childhood. There was no one to teach him how to be a good father when he was a boy. There was no one there to make him feel safe and secure. He used to be a boy who almost never felt loved in his own home. It was doubtful that instincts would just take over when it came to his unborn baby. He could not possibly be able to provide anything better for him or her. How could he be a good father when he grew up resenting other people? 

He used the time left over from the dismissed Fourth year class to let go of a few of the tears he fought so hard to keep back.

**~HP~**

Rose was worried. Each day, she watched the Potions master from afar. Though he tried his best to give the impression that he was okay, she could still see that something was wrong. He looked so peaky whenever she crossed paths with him. She could see how exhausted he was every time she got the chance to look into those black eyes. Those cancelled classes she heard about did little to ease her concerns. It was a good thing that she had made enough Anti-nausea Potion to last a few days. He seemed so distant, more than she had ever seen in all the years she knew Snape. She knew he had to have a lot on his mind, but something was stirring the cauldron in his head. She knew how hard that was, and that was troubling to her. What was worse than a mad Dark wizard looming over your head?

“He looks worse now than he did a month ago,” she said to Hermione as they pored over the books in front of them. The two of them were tucked away in a more private corner of the library, chest deep in assignments for both Charms and Herbology. They kept their voices down to avoid unwanted attention. “Did you see him at breakfast? He looked like he was going to be sick right there. I didn’t see him eat one bite.”

“I know, I didn’t either,” said Hermione, reaching for her quill. “I was talking with Luna after Charms class. She said he’s been out of sorts since he cancelled that one class of theirs. He hardly gets out of his chair, and he doesn’t snap at people as much. It’s not that he has no reason, he just seems like he has no energy. How is he at night?”

“Not much better. He can hold a conversation, but that’s about it. I end up doing most of the work, not that I mind.”

“Do you think he’s gone to see a healer yet?”

Rose sighed. “I don’t think so, and that’s what worries me.”

“But what if it’s something serious?” Hermione asked with a certain hitch in her tone.

“Don’t say that, Mione,” said Rose, suddenly quite stern. “If it were that bad, I don’t think Dumbledore would let him ignore it for this long.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Hermione looked up from her Herbology book. Rose had pushed her book away and was leaning her elbow on the table. She stared down at the wooden surface, resting her chin in her hand. “What’s the matter, Rose?”

“I wish there was something I could do,” said Rose.

“What do you mean? You have done something.” Hermione knew that Rose had taken it upon herself to help Snape out while she was in detention. She would do what he requested of her, but also took care of some of his little to-dos before she left. Sometimes, she refused to go when Snape told her to, and therefore she would come in long after Hermione had laid down to sleep. “I’m sure you’ve been a big help to Snape the last few days.”

“I know, Mione, but I wish I could do more.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a knot.” Harry walked up behind the girls and dropped his books at the end of the table. Rose cocked her head at him as he sat down. “How long have you been listening?” she asked.

“Only from _I-wish-there-was-something-I-could-do,_ ” Harry opened up his Transfigurations book, intending to read up before class started. “You’re going on about Snape again?”

“We’re not going on, just discussing,” said Hermione. She glanced around the area, wrinkling her brow. “Where’s Ron?”

“Demelza and Dean grabbed him to go over a strategy for Quidditch. He told me to tell you that he loves you.” Hermione blushed, despite it being just them. Rose was rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Harry glanced back at her. “Anyway, what I meant to say, Rose, is that you shouldn’t get so worked up about Snape.”

“I didn’t think I was worked up,” said the ginger witch.

“Please, you could hardly focus on your eggs at breakfast.”

Again, Rose rolled her eyes. “Even you have to say that he looked terrible.”

“I’m not saying that he didn’t,” said Harry. “Yes, he did look ill this morning. But that’s beyond our control. If he’s in a bad way, then he’s in a bad way. You can’t take that away. Besides, Hermione told me about Sunday night. You made a potion for him. You did what you could.”

“I still feel like I could do better.”

“Believe me, Rose, I do too,” said Hermione. “After what he’s been through, I don’t want Snape to be ill any more than you do. But Harry’s right, it’s out of our hands. It’s not our place anyway. Let’s just assume that Dumbledore and McGonagall have gotten to him by now.”

_‘The way he’s been talking, I think they might have,”_ Rose thought to herself in an attempt to push down her worries. _‘I hope they have…’_

“Why are you so concerned about Snape anyway?” she heard Harry ask. A glance in his direction revealed a look of genuine curiosity from the Head Boy, though it could also be construed as concern for Rose’s good sense. “You’re acting like teachers are not supposed to get sick from time to time.”

“From time to time shouldn’t be a matter of weeks,” Rose pointed out, prompting a nod from Hermione. “And believe it or not, Snape’s actually grown on me.”

Harry caught a chuckle in his throat. “You’re right, I don’t believe that.”

“I’m telling you, he’s much more laid back at night.”

“Not in my experience.”

“Then maybe it’s just you.” There was a muffled snort as Hermione hid her laughter behind her hand. Harry let his green eyes trail away, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. Rose continued. “Look, I know he has issues. But Harry, you know he’s not mad. He’s actually been a lot of help to me the last few weeks. I always liked potion-making, but it feels pretty good to actually have some of your teacher’s support for a change. I’m not afraid to admit it; I look forward to his class.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Harry. “You’re trying to tell me that Snape is like one of your favorite professors?”

Slipping into her paranoid disposition, Rose glanced over her shoulder. She blushed a bright pink as she came back around. “He and Professor Wicker, yeah.”

Harry quietly laughed, pushing his still-open book away. He leaned his elbow on the old wood. Down the table, Hermione rolled her eyes. “Come on Harry, there is nothing wrong with that,” she said.

“I know, Hermione. I just want to know what Snape has to say to turn a “spoiled brat” into a good old teacher’s pet.”

“None of your business,” said Rose. “What Snape and I talk about is between us, and for my sake and yours, I want to keep it that way.”

“Sounds like you’re keeping a secret,” Harry cocked his brow in a very cheeky manner. Hermione thought this gesture to be quite funny, but Rose shook her head with a slight frown. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I don’t want to say something that’ll get you in trouble later. Just forget about it.” While her friends continued to laugh, Rose felt a knot twist up in her stomach.

**~HP~**

Severus propped himself against his desk with stiff arms, feeling tired and weak as he attempted to get on with his planned lesson for the Seventh years. He was already running on his second dose of his Beckett-brewed potion of the day, and he might have been alright if not for one thing. The lesson was on Memory potions, and that lesson would end with a practical on the students’ part. The trouble with these particular brews was that they required an initial stewing period of at least thirty minutes. Twenty cauldrons stood over open flames. Severus could feel the classroom getting hotter with each minute that ticked by. The thickening air closed in around him, the humidity more pronounced to his vulnerable system. This along with his mostly empty stomach was making him feel like his potion was not working after all. Not wanting to surrender and call off yet another class, Severus did what he could to ignore his internal protests.

He took to walking around the room, thinking that it would do away with the dull abdominal ache that still remained. He spoke with quiet, sometimes stammered words, trying to keep good breath control all the while. To his annoyance, Severus felt the hesitant stares of just about every young adult in the room. Some were constant, others were faltered, but they stared all the same. Severus supposed that they had enough reason this time. He could only guess how bad he looked by now.

He noticed Rose’s blue gaze every time he walked by her seat. Watching him again, was she? This was the third time today he caught her looking at him like that. Of course, Snape didn’t mind that, not after the aid she had graciously offered each night. After singlehandedly whittling down his to-do list for the week, Rose could turn Parkinson into a buzzing mosquito without a peep from the professor. Actually, the fact that she was in class brought a sense of calm to him. With the overwhelming conditions of the room, he really needed that.

“Why is Moonstone necessary in producing a proper Memory Draught?” he addressed the class. Hands went up around him as he looked around. “Mister Malfoy?”

“Because it’s a known mood stabilizer,” the blonde Slytherin droned with not much enthusiasm.

“Can anyone elaborate as to why that’s important – Miss Beckett?”

“Because it makes sense, sir. You can’t remember anything if you are out of your mind with emotion.” Rose spoke with confidence, always looking at Snape. “If you negate the emotion, it makes the core of the potion more effective.” She offered the Potions master a small, gentle smile. Snape glanced at her and felt that odd sensation in his gut again. He dabbed away the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Not quite how I would have worded it, but yes, that is the idea.”

He bluntly recited the lesson, not going into any grave detail that might have been useful, not giving a rat’s ass if anyone was falling behind. He wanted to get this lesson over with as soon as he could. Once the students were left to brew, he could escape the heat for a few minutes at the least. If it hadn’t been for Longbottom and Finnigan, he could have spent the remainder of the class in his office. But the risk was just too great to take.

Snape was soon back behind his desk, gripping the edge, refusing to sit. Curse those damn burners, he thought. The longer he unconsciously spewed out information, the more unbearable it was getting. But he continued to make broken eye contact with his tense little audience. The sweaty, dizzy professor knew he was in bad shape, but he would be damned if he let it show to them. He used what strength he had to carry on.

“Now, open your books back to page five hundred and thirty two,” he said, his breath becoming quiet pants. “Continue from where you left off at the start of the lesson. Note that…” Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of heat flooded in around him. The sweat started to actually drip down the sides of Snape’s face as he tried to maintain his footing. Now it felt like the room was spinning. “Note that you will – _pant_ – you will be graded based on what point in the brewing you reach – _pant_ – by the end of class.”

Draco stood up out of his seat, his grey eyes wide with obvious alarm. “Professor Snape, are you okay?”

Snape could barely get out one word. He couldn’t even look at the young Malfoy, his vision was all out of sorts. He wanted to be sick for the relief of it. But before he could worry about that familiar twist inside, he felt everything drain from his upper body. What remained of his strength was gone from his limbs. Blood rushed to his ears, muffling the gasps and yelps from his shocked class. He could barely hear their shouts as he completely blacked out.

The students watched as Snape collapsed to the floor, hitting the stone hard and heavy.

Girls shrieked while several boys shot up out of their seats with obscene words. Like a bolt of lightning, a visibly distressed Malfoy dashed from his seat to his professor’s side. He was almost tripped up because Parkinson was so close behind him. The Slytherin dropped down to his knees, calling Snape’s name and searching for a pulse. Pansy meanwhile just stood there in a fit of high-pitched panic, making no move to follow her boyfriend’s example.

Stricken with fear, Rose leapt up and rushed to the front. She knelt down by Snape’s head, eyes wide and breath shallow. “Is he breathing? Did he hit his head?”

“I don’t think so,” Malfoy chewed out, as though he would rather not talk to the Gryffindor. Evidently, his distress over his beloved professor overruled that. “He’s still breathing, he’s got a pulse.”

“Professor, can you hear me?” Rose gently slapped Snape’s clammy cheek in an attempt to revive him. She sounded almost desperate to those around her.

“Save your breath and stop brownnosing, Beckett,” Pansy snarled, clenching her hands into white balls.

“Well, I don’t exactly see you falling over yourself to help,” Rose growled back, fanning down Snape’s face. “He’s your Head of House, for Prospero’s sake!”

“Pansy, stop it! Don’t start this now!” snapped Malfoy, pulling off his outer robe and folding it up. Harry came up behind Rose as she helped ease this makeshift pillow under Snape’s head. He tilted his head to get a better look of the situation, and his green eyes doubled in size. “Holy hell, he’s out cold!”

“Don’t just stand there, Harry,” said Rose, returning to her fanning. Her heart was racing, beating against her breastbone. “Get a cool cloth or something.”

“You think the heat got to him?”

“I don’t know, but it’s a thought.”

Harry crossed the room, grabbed a clean cloth from a cabinet, and jogged over to the sink. By this time, Ron had stood up to join them, Hermione hovering at his side. “I knew this would happen,” the Head Girl said. “I knew it was too hot in here.”

“Oh, and you know everything,” Pug-faced Parkinson sneered. Rose glared at her from the floor. “Shut up.”

“If he’s burning up, then why don’t we just cast a Cooling Charm?” Ron pulled out his wand as though to do exactly that.

“No, you idiot!” Malfoy barked. “You want to kill us all?!”

Ron took immediate offense to that. He turned to Malfoy with squinted eyes, stepping closer to the group. “Hey, I know what the hell I’m doing, you ruddy gi–,”

“Ron, he means it,” said Hermione, slipping into her scolding voice. She motioned toward the hot cauldrons. “Memory Draughts are very sensitive to magical discharge while brewing. You cast that charm, and the whole room could blow.”

“The whole room _would_ blow. That’s why he had to leave it this blistering,” Rose added, more focused on the still unconscious Potions master. She took the wet cloth from Harry and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Malfoy busied himself with undoing the buttons around Snape’s throat. Rose frantically glanced around, up to the tiny, bar-covered panes of glass. “If only those damn windows could open. Someone could smash one of them. How about you, Parkinson?”

“Sod off, Beckett.”

Rolling her eyes, Rose looked back down at Snape. She continued to wipe his brow, stopping to fan him down. After what felt like an eternity to the nervous young people, but was really a short moment, a low gutted groan escaped thin lips. Snape’s dark eyes slowly fluttered open. The first thing he noticed was that he was on the floor, and that Rose’s face was above him. He used his arms to try and force himself up to sit.

“Not too fast, Professor,” said the young Malfoy sitting at his knee, reaching out to help him.

“What…what happened?” Snape asked, regaining his breath.

“You fainted, sir,” said Rose, her tone quiet and careful. “You were out cold for a few minutes. I guess the heat was too much for you.” Snape grasped his head as he looked around at the little group that had gathered around where he had fallen. Rose also got a good look around her. Her friends were closing in around them with others leaving their desks to get a closer look. “Hey, back off a little. Give him some air.”

The command was calm, more like a suggestion. Snape watched as most of the spectators, except for Parkinson and Granger, did as they were told. He allowed Rose to support him with a hand on his shoulder. “You must forgive me…that’s never happened before.”

“It happens to the best of us.” Rose held out the damp cloth, which Snape accepted and pressed it to his head. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know…still lightheaded.”

“Should we call for Madam Pomfrey?” asked Hermione, kneeling down next to Rose. Snape shook his head. “No, don’t do that. I should be alright.”

“But we have to do something,” Rose almost pleaded.

“Beckett’s right,” Draco chimed in. “We can’t just sit and wait for you to pass out again.”

“I…uh…”

“Have you eaten anything recently?” Harry’s voice echoed over. Snape looked beyond Rose’s head as he came into view, stepping closer. The faint wizard shook his head; he had barely been able to keep down the food he managed to force down earlier. Harry briefly nodded and turned to face the class. “Does anyone have anything he could have now?”

“I do!” Rose shouted and pointed to her seat. “Harry, in the front pocket of my bag, there’s a new bar of chocolate. Bring it here!”

Harry quickly walked over to where Rose’s school bag sat on the floor and went through the specified pocket. Sure enough, out came a whole, still wrapped bar of Honeyduke’s finest. He brought it to the front of the room and placed it into Rose’s waiting hand. She turned back to Snape, digging her nail under a corner of the paper. “It’s just a standard bar, nothing too fancy.” Rose ripped off a good portion of the wrapping and held the chocolate out to Snape. “Here, take it.”

The Potions master shook his head. “Miss Beckett –,”

“No sir, take it. Take the whole thing.”

“You don’t have to –,”

“I insist. You need it more than I do.”

Snape realized that Rose would not be swayed into keeping her precious sweets. Instinct told him that he did not want to eat for fear of the eventual result. But better sense reminded him of his lack of nourishment that day. He also realized that getting his sugar levels up would probably help ease the dizziness. Reluctantly, he took the chocolate bar from Rose. She and Draco watched patiently as he bit off a square, letting it melt on his tongue before chewing carefully. Snape swallowed the velvety morsel, and Rose let out a sigh of relief.

Many of the students began to return to their seats, though they hesitated to touch the cauldrons in front of them. The Potions master ate a few more bites before he handed the bar back to Rose. He shifted his legs. “Alright, let me up.” Both Draco and Rose stood. Draco got his hand under Snape’s arm to assist him. Rose hovered close to his side in case he stumbled. Once he was on his feet, Snape leaned against his desk to take in a few deep breaths. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rose holding out the candy bar again. Getting the message, he took it back.

“So what do you want us to do, Professor?” asked Draco. Snape could just tell that the boy desperately wished he didn’t have to remain so formal in the presence of his classmates.

“What I want is for you all to get back to work. You’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

“But Professor Snape,” Hermione spoke up again. “You shouldn’t stay in this hot room. You need some more air.” As pestering as she was in his current state, the squealy little know-it-all was right. Even then, it still felt like a Muggle thermometer would shatter in there.

“Maybe you should sit in your office for a while,” said Rose. “Stay off your feet for a bit. You can cast a Cooling Charm in there.” She carefully touched his arm with both hands, as though to lead him over to the connecting door.

“I was just about to suggest that, Professor!” Pansy pushed her way over and grabbed his other arm. Naturally, she smiled up at Snape like she had been calling the shots all along. “Come sir, let me help you.”

“Ladies, ladies, please.” The Potions master tugged his arms out of their grasp, lightly pushing the girls further apart from each other. Very carefully, Snape stepped over to his office and pushed the door open. He looked behind him to realize that he had a ginger shadow in Rose. She already had her wand out, but Snape stopped her before she could utter a word. He then grabbed hold of his wand and cast the charm on his office. Before going into the cool air, he turned back to his class.

“Mister Malfoy, I am leaving you and Miss Granger in charge. Make sure that no one else does anything stupid. Do remember to keep special watch on Longbottom. And be warned that this door will remain open at all times, so I will hear everything that is going on. Beckett, Parkinson, I better not hear either of you say the other’s name. I will return at the end of the period to collect your samples, however feeble they might be.” Snape walked through the arched doorway, taking another bite of chocolate. He settled behind his desk and summoned a book off a shelf, listening to the sweet sound of Draco barking orders at his simpleton classmates.

**~HP~**

Severus fully recovered from his fainting spell by the time classes let out for the day. Minerva had run down to check on him as soon as she had heard about it from passing students, and Severus was glad to show her his improved condition. She left muttering something about Pomfrey and the headmaster. Much to his relief, Severus’s symptoms seemed to fade with the sunlight. He actually felt pretty fair when it came time to wander up to dinner. However, he should have been better prepared for the questions and odd looks he would attract everywhere he went. Severus had to deal with an invasion of his Slytherins, begging to know if he was alright. The hundreds of stares in the Great hall showed just how far this had spread. Even the staff members weren’t immune. He probably would have had to deal with a few too many of them if Albus hadn’t already done his best to calm their nerves, whatever they might have been. He couldn’t wait to use his commitment to his detentions to escape down to his dungeon lair. He much preferred Rose’s company anyway.

The Gryffindor had pulled a stool up to Snape’s desk to better suit her given task, which was grinding up the petals of the Hellebore flowers she collected the other day. She sat directly across from the Potions professor as they worked together at a slow, safe pace. The room had cooled drastically through the evening, and now the candles on the walls were the only source of weak heat.

“I still can’t believe you passed out like that,” said Rose, putting effort into the mortar and pestle in her hands. She seemed to have been dancing around the subject since she got there, just now gaining the courage to ask about it. “I didn’t think you looked too good to begin with, but who would have thought it was that bad? Was it just the temperature that did it?”

“I have seen better days, health-wise. I believe the heat was just the trigger for something that might have happened anyway.”

Rose wrinkled her fair brow. “But…but you’re okay now, right?”

“No need to fret, Miss Beckett. I am quite alright.” Snape sipped from the goblet of water sitting to the side. Both Albus and Minerva had advised him to rehydrate himself as much as he could to fight off another collapse. “I also don’t anticipate another episode like that, so don’t look at me like that.”

Rose relaxed her face and let go of the breath that she didn’t even know she was holding. “Like what?”

“Like you are watching Longbottom brew Veritaserum,”

Rose laughed, coaxing Snape to do the same. “Leave Neville alone, he’s trying. He’s got enough to think about, Auror training in a year.” She reached for a few new petals and placed them in the little stone basin. The Potions master smirked. “It’s beyond me why anyone would think to make that whelp an Auror.”

“Cut it out, Professor,” Rose said with a certain shake of her head. “Say, can I ask you something?”

“I suppose you could,” said Snape, glancing between the ingredients in his hands and the young witch in front of him.

“Was it scary when you blacked out? I mean, I don’t have much to go by. But for something like that to just happen, it had to be frightening.”

Snape looked directly at Rose with an inquisitive gaze. He hadn’t expected a question like that, or the strangely youthful expression in Rose’s face. Not wanting to give her any kind of impression, he tried to stay focused on his work. He reached for the storage jar that he had set aside. “Not as much as you would think. Like I said, I was already not feeling well. When you’re in the moment, you don’t really have time to wrap your mind around what’s happening to you.”

“I see,” Rose nodded her head, trying not to let her eyes travel to Snape’s high collar. “Well, it certainly was scary for a lot of us. You should have seen the look on Parkinson’s face. She looked like she was about to piss herself. And I haven’t seen Malfoy move that fast in a long time.”

“Your little Dream Team looked hot and bothered as well. I do hope they were not vying for control of the situation.”

Rose laughed again, more softly this time. “If they had, it would have only been to help. They were worried, make no mistake about that.”

“What about you?” asked Snape, setting down his pestle. It had been eating at him all evening, and he could feel a slight tension in his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped that her place at his side was more than just her sense of responsibility.

“You damn near gave me a heart attack.”

The student looked back down, just as Snape could feel the warmth creeping into his cheeks. Though he knew she would say that his fainting startled her, he didn’t think it was anything like that. It was obvious to him that Rose did not despise him as much as she once did, yet her earnest admissions still came as a surprise. He had gotten a lot of concern-driven remarks that evening, yet he didn’t feel it until now.  “Did…did I now?”

“Yeah,” said Rose. “I thought that your health had taken a turn for the worse. After what happened on Sunday, I couldn’t just sit there, now could I?” She too put down her pestle and reached for the storage jar to pour in the contents of her bowl.

“No, I suppose not.” Snape leaned back into his seat. “Come to think of it, that wouldn’t be very like you.”

Rose smiled brightly, still focused on scrapping the crushed flowers into the jar. “I try, I really do.”

The corners of Snape’s mouth twitched. There was something about that smile that was so calming, pleasing almost. Feeling that odd shiver, Severus watched Rose, letting his eyes travel up her frame. Her long, smooth hair was hanging around her shoulders. The candlelight shone off it, and the longer Severus stared, the more he saw it brought out the red hue. The light freckles on her cheekbones could have disappeared in the shadows, leaving behind that healthy fairness. Actually, those freckles seemed to be the only flaw in Rose’s skin, especially her face…her face. Severus had to admit something to himself. Rose was never ugly. The wizards in her family hardly ever were. But he never seemed to notice how she had carried that on. To remember the little ginger girl that arrived there eight years before, it was remarkable to see the lovely young woman she had become. The warmth in his cheeks started to spread through his body.

But then Rose suddenly looked up at him, still smiling. Severus’s gaze locked with hers. Rose’s lips were moving, but Severus couldn’t hear the words. The only thing he could focus on was her eyes. The upward glance caught the little flames, reflecting in a near sparkle. The brightness of the blue did not fade with the light. All of a sudden, Severus felt that strange tremor inside. Why was it that he never noticed how pretty those eyes could be? No, not just pretty. Right then, they were striking. He could feel his heart beating slightly faster at the sight.

“Professor?”

Snape was jerked back into the here and now by Rose’s curious voice. He breathed deeper, again feeling his face flush. “Pardon me, Miss Beckett. Come again?”

“I asked you if this was enough Hellebore for your stores.”

“Yes, that’s enough,” said Snape, taking a quick glance at the now full jar. In seconds, his focus was back on Rose’s face, her striking eyes. “You feeling alright?” asked Rose, cocking her head to the side.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

“I’ll bet.”

The Potions master quietly told Rose to take the jar to his office and to straighten up the room. She did so in a calm, almost lively pace. She rinsed out the mortars and stowed them away in a cupboard. She used a spare jar to hold the leftover flowers, and left them on a high shelf. The whole time, Snape couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even when she disappeared through his office door, he watched the arch for her return a few moments later. Snape tried to divert his attention away from Rose. He ultimately failed when those bright blues turned back to him

“Anything else you need me to do?” asked Rose. Snape shook his head. “No, you can go…and Miss Beckett?” He caught her just as her hand was on the door handle.

“Yes?”

“Thank you…for bearing with me this week. This hasn’t been an easy month and I appreciate the help.”

“I’m glad to hear that, sir. Now you go straight to bed. You need the rest.” Rose flashed her white teeth again before pushing the door open and leaving Snape to his precious solitude.

Severus dipped his fingers into his goblet and smeared the water over his forehead. He breathed deeply to slow his heart rate, also trying to clear his head. He tried to banish the image of Rose’s face from his thoughts, but how could he? It wasn’t every day that he came across beauty like that, not any that he cared to notice. It wasn’t too often that he felt more cared for by a student than by his closest allies. And he had never been so fond of someone like Rose. Disbelief sat in Severus’s stomach like a stone when he realized that he knew this feeling. Many years had passed, but its familiarity was still as clear as the blue in Rose’s gaze.

He was in such a rush to his quarters that he almost forgot to lock up his classroom on the way out. He had every intention of going right off to sleep, but his busy, busy mind kept him pacing around the sitting room for nearly forty minutes. Only after he surrendered to those irresistible visions did he feel relaxed enough to crawl into bed. However, Severus would end up falling asleep thinking of those eyes and that smile. His unusually vivid dreams were what made him fully realize that his fondness had become a fancy.


	23. The last detention

Tucked away in his private hospital room, Severus carefully peeled away the folds of his clothes to expose his abdomen. Poppy patiently waited at his bedside, wand in hand. “You don’t know how comforting it is that you chose to come up here after yesterday,” she said. “If I had heard sooner, I would have been down there before you could exhale. It’s good to know that you are watching out for your health after all.”

“I just want to be sure that there isn’t anything seriously wrong. I don’t exactly wish to pass out in the middle of another class,” said Severus, leaning back onto the bed. He hoped that the Mediwitch couldn’t hear the slight weariness in his calm tone. A certain someone had made sleeping a little tricky the night before.

Poppy very casually waved her wand over his bare torso. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be too concerned. Faintness is not too uncommon in the first trimester, as I’m sure you have noticed.” Severus nodded, rather reluctantly. “But it would help to know how it got to the point of actual collapse. Did you eat anything at lunchtime?”

“Believe me, Poppy. I tried, but I had already taken one dose of potion and I needed another before the meal was over.”

“What did I tell you about that potion?” Poppy almost scolded like she was addressing a child.

“I only used it a few times in the last few days. This has been a very difficult week. I couldn’t manage all the time.”

“So I’ve heard,” sighed Poppy. She had been getting fairly regular updates on Severus’s condition from the four professors in on his secret, as well as from Albus. “And what exactly were you doing when you fainted?”

“I was just going over the lesson as I always would.”

“Were you standing or walking much?”

“Yes,” said Severus, once again nodding. “The students will tell you that I became overheated. I might have to agree with them, actually. Is it normal to be more sensitive to temperatures in pregnancy?”

“In some cases, yes,” said Poppy. She finished up the remainder of her diagnostic spells in silence, occasionally demonstrating her thoughts with short hums. She flicked back the tip of her wand. “Well, I cannot find anything out of the ordinary. The child appears to be unaffected by your fainting spell.”

“So it’s…it’s alright?”

Poppy smiled at the uncertainty in Severus’s question. “Yes, the child is alright. But if you don’t mind, I would like to talk to you about your more recent state.” She sat down at the edge of the bed and turned to Severus.

“I don’t need another lecture, Poppy.”

“I’m not lecturing you. I just want to give you some suggestions. You and I both know that you cannot go on as you have been. With morning sickness like yours, I worry that it will prevent you and the child from getting good nourishment.”

Severus sat up and rolled his eyes. He started on the buttons of his shirt. “I tried crackers before getting up. They seem to work for a short while, until I sit down to breakfast.”

“Perhaps you should also try drinking ginger tea in the mornings, or chamomile in the evenings. That could settle your stomach if you are already feeling ill. Do you think that might help?”

“It’s worth a try,” said Severus. “At this point, I’m willing to try anything.”

“This really has been a rough week for you, hasn’t it?” asked Poppy, frowning. Severus just shifted to sit beside her. The Mediwitch continued. “If I might make another suggestion, I think your system might be getting a bit overwhelmed as of late. Try having six or seven small meals a day, or snacks every few hours. That way, you will be able to get some food in you, and you won’t have to force down three large meals and end up making yourself sick. In fact, you should take to eating like that from now on. As for the fainting, don’t try and push yourself so hard. They don’t call it a delicate condition for nothing. If you start to feel lightheaded, listen to your body and take it easy. Stay off your feet when you don’t have to be, and don’t get up from your seat too quickly.”

“I will do what I can.”

“You will do as we say or it will come back to bite you in the arse.” Poppy rested a careful hand on Severus’s arm. “Just one more question. How much stress would you say that you were under these few days?”

Severus shrugged. “On a scale of one to ten, I would say an eight…maybe a nine.” Poppy sighed to herself with raised eyebrows. The tired wizard looked up at her. “What?”

“You see, Severus, I have a feeling that stress might be part of what makes you so miserable. Minerva noticed that last week, you were in much better health when you were calmer. I know that your moods might be making it a bit difficult, but you will be much better off if you keep your tension to a minimum. It does a lot of good for you both when you have nothing to be tense about.”

“I always have a reason to be tense these days,” said Severus, shaking his head. _‘And for once, the students have nothing to do with it.’_

“You are still a little unsure about your situation, aren’t you?”

Severus let his eyes fall down to his midsection. He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn’t muster up the pretense it would have required. Besides, he doubted that Poppy would buy it for a second. He wondered what gave her that idea, if a meddling old wizard had anything to do with it. “More than a little,” he muttered.

“Oh Severus, don’t get so worked up. Albus told me you were having some doubts about your pregnancy. You have more than enough time to decide what you are going to do. But right now, you should be thinking about what’s good for the child as well as yourself. You want it to be born healthy, don’t you?”

Severus nodded. “The child is innocent. As selfish as I am, it should not have to come to harm because of me.”

“And so far, it hasn’t,” said Poppy in an attempt at encouragement. “Think for a moment. Just the fact that you came to me today shows that you are doing the right thing. You wanted to make sure there was nothing wrong, like any good parent would. It’s hardly my business to say, but you could be a good father. No matter what, you owe it to that baby to give it the best start possible.”

“I know, I know.” Severus looked up at the clock that hung beside the door. He decided that the time was a good enough excuse to get out of there while he still could. “I should be going.” He stood up and started for the door. Poppy nodded her understanding. She followed him out into the open wing, and she bid him goodbye just outside her office.

Severus took his time in walking back to the dungeons. He would have liked to blame his condition, that he had so much going through his head that he couldn’t do anything about it except to walk it off. He did have a lot to think about, but the child and what to do with it had been shoved into the back of his mind since Severus found something more troubling to ponder in Rose.

He could not seem to keep her from his thoughts. He could not stop thinking about how taken he was the night before, about how subtly beautiful she could be. Fleeting thoughts were punctured by a fair face, red hair, and those haunting blue eyes. And if it wasn’t her looks, she was beautiful in her compassionate spirit. It was almost hard to believe that underneath the stubborn, short-tempered Gryffindor was actually a gentle, understanding girl. It was often difficult to make Severus feel like he was truly somebody, and Rose managed to do just that. She had this ability to make Severus feel like he was the only person in her world when they were alone together. As self-centered as students could be, Gryffindors in particular, he sincerely felt that Rose did care for him, even in the slightest. She had to, she practically admitted it. Just the mere idea of it had Severus feeling that well-known fluttering.

That, however, was where it came to an abrupt halt. This was wrong. As wonderful as it felt, it was just wrong. Severus wasn’t attracted to just any girl. Severus was attracted to his student. She was just a kid! Yes, she was mature in more than just years. But no amount of reason or perhaps denial could change the fact that Severus was old enough to be Rose’s father. He had certain boundaries to live by, as any teacher would. She was of age, but he was her authority. Lust for Rose was just as forbidden as molesting one of the little ones.

He came across a set of windows that overlooked an open courtyard. Attracted by the noise of voices, Severus stopped to look out over the students congregated below. Children of all ages were spread out in the square, using their midmorning break to do everything from catching up on castle gossip to copying someone else’s homework answers. The clouds hovering over the valley didn’t seem to deter them.

The professor’s dark eye caught sight of Rose in a far corner. She was perched on a low wall beside Lavender Brown, who was sitting next to Parvati Patil. It seemed that the ladies were in the midst of some electrifying conversation. From his perspective, Brown looked like she would hyperventilate in her own laughter. Patil didn’t seem to be too far behind. For Merlin’s sake, what could a bunch of teenage girls find so hilarious? Rose however didn’t look as wrapped up in their humor. Instead, she offered a light chuckle with a flashy grin. Hair blowing in the autumn wind, her delicate hands clung to her books in her lap. Though she occasionally looked out at those around her, her attention always returned to her friends. Every time she spoke to them, she offered the same charm she had shown him these last few days.

Severus watched her from above, taking in her beauty and smiling to himself with a sigh. He could already feel his stresses beginning to drain out. Severus had to surrender that the only safe admiration was at a distance. Besides, it was just a fancy, nothing more. There was no harm in that. She was a lovely girl with a lovelier personality. All Severus could ever really want from her was to continue on as they were, continue making him feel as special as he did. It was almost a shame that tonight was to be their last detention. 

With one last look, he continued on his way. He would be seeing her in a few hours anyway.

**~HP~**

Rose looked up to the third floor windows in time to see Snape walk past. His shifty gaze briefly shot down on the dull, overcast square before he focused ahead. Leave it to him to spy without them realizing. Her eleven year-old self might have been disturbed to think of the menacing wizard watching them from up there. Now she was thankful to see that he was up and walking around. In spite of herself and where she was, cheerful relief flooded in. She wondered what her friends would say if they really knew how happy she was that Snape seemed to be okay. She wasn’t afraid to admit it to herself, but she probably would still get a good ribbing from the guys.

In the end, Rose might not have cared if her judgment was called into question. She knew what felt right to her, not her classmates. What she knew was that she liked Snape as a person. Strip away You-know-who’s sinister servant, and he was very much a decent man in her eyes. She liked how he was able to put aside bias to talk with her like an equal. She liked how he would listen to what she had to say and would not immediately shoot her down. He did not criticize what she did, not even her affection for Muggles. And whether or not she was seeking it, he would give her his honest advice. In a few short weeks, he had made her feel better about her family than a lot of other people.

Some would argue that Snape’s attitude hadn’t improved since the war, but Rose knew that deep down, the man had somehow changed, and for the better. Though it would remain unsaid, she adored this.

Rose was disappointed the last time her detentions finished, but now she was almost saddened to see it end. She had come to really enjoy Snape’s company. Compared to some of the people she normally hung around with, she much preferred talking with the Potions master. Actually, she had been looking forward to her evening sessions this week. Perhaps it was a good thing that Snape had been in bad shape these days. She worked hard enough for the both of them while using his illness as a cover to stay longer. She did genuinely care for his health, as everyone saw in yesterday’s class. But she also wouldn’t argue if Snape needed her to do a few extra tasks for him. That way, she got some extra time to chat with him, which he almost never turned down. It would be tough to see that end.

A sharp tap on her knee caught her attention. Realizing she had let her mind wander, she turned her head back to Lavender and Parvati and immersed herself back into their talk of how Hannah Abbot had decided that she and Ernie were not so compatible the first time she caught him checking out a girl in another year.

**~HP~**     

Hours passed, classes came and went, and the sun sank behind the mountains. Severus had taken Poppy’s advice about reducing stress to heart. Secretly hoping that the answer lay in something so simple, he went about his business as he normally would while concentrating on a calm frame of mind. What he did was conduct his classes while imagining himself in as relaxing an environment as he could think of. He remembered how laid-back he was when he had chats with Draco during breaks, when he oversaw Rose at night. As a result, his stomach had not bothered him much at all. The lightheadedness had dissipated for the moment. And at dinner, Severus had finally managed to tuck away nearly a full plate of food for the first time in weeks, maybe even months.

Armed with a full stomach and new ways to manage morning sickness, Severus was then able to focus on the impending detention and the young Gryffindor that awaited him in his classroom.

Dragon-hide gloves shielded Rose’s hands as she carefully dissected the hearts from a bucket of dead salamanders and dropped them into a large, slime-filled jar, where they would ferment for a practical lesson the following week. Congealing blood occasionally squirted up her arms, and the smell it produced curled nose hairs. It was a disgusting task by most people’s definition, but Rose didn’t balk at it. She sliced and clipped slippery skin with a surprisingly lively attitude. While other kids would bitch and complain, Rose laughed at the comments she and Snape made about a story they had read in that morning’s _Prophet._ Apparently, a Ministry official had been seen sneaking into a London hotel with a Muggle prostitute.

Severus did not bother to divert Rose away from their light-hearted, albeit mean-spirited banter. Seeing that smile had been a highlight in his unusually leisurely afternoon. And now, it was his quiet delight to hear her chuckling. Why couldn’t all their nights together have been like this? With the moments ticking away with the hands of the clock, Severus wanted to make the most out of this evening. After all, he doubted that Rose would end up in such deep trouble again. Five weeks of detention could have steered the Marauders straight at her age.

The time was just short of ten when Rose tossed out the last mutilated salamander corpse. She jammed a stopper into the jar of hearts and set it on a very high shelf. Crossing the room to the sink, Rose peeled the gloves off to wash the goo off her arms.

“I’ll bet you anything that he’ll resign by Monday,” she said, smearing soap up her forearms and rinsing under hot water. “Nobody in politics can come back from getting caught with their trousers off.”

“Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if that announcement was in tomorrow’s evening edition,” said Snape. Rose shut off the water and turned back to face the Potions master, dabbing her arms and hands dry. She looked up to check the time, but before she could so much as take a breath in, Snape pointed her to the front most desk. He pulled his wand from the folds of his robes and produced in front of her a quill and well, and a roll of parchment. “Since this is our last night together, I believe it is fitting that you prove to me that you have learned your lesson, once and for all.”

“You want me to write lines, don’t you sir?” said Rose with a crooked smile.

“Indeed, I do. I want you to write, _‘I am a grown woman, not a fit-pitching toddler. Fighting is for children.’_ I want that whole roll covered, top to bottom.”

Rose jokingly sighed, shaking her head to herself. “Anything you say, Professor.” She dipped the quill and started scratching away at the rough paper.

With her attention on her writing, Severus stole a chance to watch Rose from his seat. Again, the darkened room did nothing to undermine her features. With her hair pulled back and away from her face, her pale skin almost glowed. Though the wizard wished he could stop himself from all but staring at her, there wasn’t much way to ignore that beauty. He let his lips tug into a small smile, unseen to the student before him. She actually did not have to be writing those lines. Severus was sure she already knew better, and he had had a number of stern conversations with Pansy Parkinson of the same nature. He just did not want to see her go just yet.

There was no harm in buying a little more time, right?

Snape paid no notice to the time, or to how fast or slow Rose was writing. He was actually surprised when Rose placed her quill into its well after what turned out to be only forty minutes. It seemed to him that Rose wanted to get upstairs as quickly as she could. _‘Wouldn’t be surprised if she has people waiting to celebrate,’_ he thought to himself.

Rose rolled up the parchment and floated over to the professor’s desk. “There you are, sir,” she said, handing the roll to him. Snape unrolled the parchment to inspect her work. The writing was not as clean as many of the essays she had written over the years, but the words were clear and they filled up the page. Snape resisted the urge to sigh. Though he relished in Rose’s company, he also knew that he couldn’t keep her there all night.

“Very well Miss Beckett, that will be all. I suppose that I can now say that you have your evenings back.”

“There isn’t anything else you need me to do?” asked Rose with an odd tweak in her fair brow.

“No, I believe everything is in order.” Snape tried to disguise his disappointment as the tiredness they had both become so accustomed to. “Besides, I can tell that you are just dying to return to your normal life. I’m sure Potter will be delighted to have his precious reserve back at his full command.” Rose giggled, coaxing a smirk out of Snape. He quickly shook some sense back into himself and bid Rose a good night. She did the same with that little smile and that same sparkle in her eye. In his head, Snape was growling. She had to make it more difficult, didn’t she? Did she even know how pretty she was without trying?

Rose started to walk towards the closed classroom door, but halfway across the room, she came to an unsteady stop. She turned back to look over Snape’s head at the clock on the wall. The look on her face was that of slight perplex. “What is it?” asked Snape.

“It’s a bit strange, leaving so soon,” said Rose, cocking her head. “You kept me past curfew so often…I’ll be honest, I got used to it. It’ll be funny to walk in on my friends an hour before they’re expecting.”

“I think you are the only person I have ever met who would complain about detention ending early.” Snape shook his head with a crooked smirk.

“I’m not complaining.” Rose shook her head back at Snape. “It’s been five weeks. It was routine for me to be out so late. Are you sure that everything’s all sorted?”

“You want more work?” Snape asked, almost at a loss for words. This had to be the strangest thing he had heard since he found out he was pregnant.

“Just for a few more minutes, so I get in when I’m supposed to and I don’t walk in on anybody snogging.”

Dispelling that lovely image from his mind, Snape thought for a moment. Rose didn’t have to say it for him to understand that she wasn’t ready to leave. Her motives might have been a little dubious, but in a castle filled with horny teenagers, that idea was quite plausible. Perhaps she was like him and preferred a quieter common room. Or maybe she was telling the truth, that she had simply grown accustomed to their so-called routine. Whatever the reason, it was still a chance for Snape to spend a little more time with her. If only there were something more she could do. In her attempts to lend a hand, Rose had taken care of much of the preparations for the next two weeks’ worth of classes. There had to be something. She didn’t even have to do much, just something to stick around for. He looked in the direction of his office, seeking inspiration.

He unexpectedly thought of something and looked back at Rose, who was waiting patiently for his response. He took a breath to subdue the slight nerves that seemed to suddenly rise up before he spoke in a calm, collected tone.

“Do you care for sherry?”

**~HP~**

“I tell you, of all the things I thought I would do, I never thought I would be having a drink with my Potions master, the ex Death Eater.”

Snape resisted the urge to shake his head as he poured out a glass of the amber alcohol for Rose. She sat before his office desk, relaxed into the wingchair with her legs crossed. “Believe me, Miss Beckett. If someone told me last year that I would be sitting here with a student who was not in Slytherin, I would have thought they were barking mad.” He handed her the glass and stuck the cork back into the bottle.

“I suppose I’m getting a glimpse of what it’s like to be a Slytherin,” said Rose, swirling the liquid around the glass.

“Hardly,” said Snape. “Not many students get to taste that. Consider it a reward for all the extra work you insisted upon this week.”

“Oh, well…thank you Professor.” Rose smiled and took a sip. She flinched at the taste. “Oh my…my god, that’s got to be the best sherry I’ve ever had.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that one before.” Snape tipped the bottle to the side, pretending to read a label he had already read a million times over. “To tell the truth, it might be older than you are by now.”

“Are you sure that you won’t have any? We’re both adults here.”

“In light of recent events, I decided it was best to stop drinking for a while.”

“I see,” Rose giggled. “Is that the other reason to let me have a glass? You want to get rid of that stuff?”

“In a manner of speaking,” said Snape as he tucked the bottle away into its hiding place. Truthfully, he was hoping that there would be enough for a good, stiff drink for him to enjoy immediately after giving birth. He quickly decided that Rose would be the last to drink until then.

Rose gently gulped down a mouthful or two, sighing her satisfaction. Her gaze kept shifting up and down between Snape and the glass. “This is so weird. I mean it really is, sitting here, with _you._ Weeks ago, you could have driven me to drink. How do I go from that to this?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Snape leaned back into his chair, not letting his gaze wander away from the girl. “Until recently, I took you to be one of those people, those who wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Professor,” said Rose, chuckling. “You know I respect you too much. I certainly don’t mean to cause you any more trouble after tonight. I’m sure that you have better things to do than sit here and watch me all night. You must be sick and tired of me by now.”

Snape forced a smirk, feeling his insides shift. Could she have been any more wrong? “You must have an awfully low opinion of yourself if you think I would not appreciate what you have done for me this week. I will admit, it was nice to have someone else taking care of things around here. But yes, I am ready to return to handling my own affairs.”

“If you feel up to it.”

“Trust me, I do. For now, I can only hope that you mind your temper and stay out of trouble.”

“I apologize for even having a temper,” Rose said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Besides, it wouldn’t be a problem if Parkinson didn’t go out of her way to provoke me. You’ve seen her do it; you let her get away with it.”

Snape cocked his head at her. “Ah, but you always had the choice to not react. Eight years, Miss Beckett. Eight years and you never seemed to fully grasp that concept. You are an intelligent girl. It’s embarrassing to watch you two act so childish, screaming at each other like you were committed to a madhouse.”

“But Professor Snape, I never started any of those rows. It was always Parkinson.”

“Or so you say,” said Snape.

“Use Veritaserum, rummage through my thoughts, I speak the truth.”

“I do not doubt your word, Miss Beckett. But that doesn’t mean I don’t doubt Miss Parkinson’s either.”

“You just always chose to believe her,” Rose said before gulping down a mouthful of booze. “And still do.”

Snape could sense the tension building around her, and he knew that he had to think fast to stay on her good side. “Yes, and I admit that might not have been the best thing on my part. And besides, no matter who starts it, the two of you always end up going at each other anyway. The reality is that the only people who know the full details are Miss Parkinson and yourself.”

“And my friends, and her gang,” said Rose with a certain headshake and a smile. “I mean it though. If she stopped picking on me and left me and my friends alone, then there wouldn’t be any more problems for you and Professor McGonagall.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” said Snape, offering a weak smile. Rose smiled back, swirling her sherry around the glass. She let go of a small sigh. “I wish I knew what the hell her problem with me is.”

“You don’t know?” asked Snape. He had noticed how Rose had been a particular target of Parkinson’s over the years, even more so than Granger. If anyone should know the reason why, it ought to be her.

“How could I? As you said, we’ve been going at it for eight years. If it wasn’t one thing, it was something else.”

The Potions master looked up toward the ceiling, his gaze betraying his displeasure. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. I’m almost curious to ask what she has said to you.” Across the desk, Rose saw her window of opportunity, and immediately jumped through.

“She’s said virtually everything by now,” she said, beginning to count down her fingers. “I’ve gone from ginger, to half-blood, to brownnoser, to phony, and now apparently, I’m a raving bitch. No matter what I do, she always finds something worth antagonizing. It doesn’t even affect her, and she does it anyway.”

“Parkinson was just that sort of girl who became that sort of woman. There could be many reasons why she terrorizes other girls. There could many more as to why she takes a special interest in you.”

“It would still help to have some sort of clue, sir.” Rose looked up at Snape with a sad little smirk.

This certainly was not the first time someone had asked Severus why his crop of students acted the way they did. However, this was the first time where his first instinct was not to make excuses for them. He had watched Parkinson take the mickey out of Rose more times than he could recall. There was also no hiding the fact that he more than often sat back and let it happen. But after getting to know the Gryffindor, and seeing how delightful she really was, he suddenly saw her as the victim of meaningless verbal abuse. The victim that Minerva had been trying to make him see for all those years. He felt the color creeping into his face at the thought.

“I do not know for sure, Miss Parkinson was never too inclined to share her thoughts with me. But after listening to so many rants about how annoying you are, it is easy to form your own theories.”

“If you’re about to tell me that you agree with her, I’d rather not hear it.”

“I don’t believe I said anything of the sort.”

“Then what is your theory?” asked Rose.

Snape leaned forward, resting his arms on the desktop. He looked at Rose with a straight, relaxed expression. “I believe that Miss Parkinson is merely the victim of poor self-esteem. She probably sees something in you particularly that she wishes she had.” Rose pulled back from Snape’s desk, clear confusion written across her face.

“Like what?” Her voice was small, almost reluctant in the presence of her professor. At the same time, it was incredulous, as though she didn’t believe the idea of Pansy Parkinson being jealous of her. Snape looked into those beautiful, blue eyes and saw a shred of doubt. The way things were looking, he had only one shot at this. He took in a breath, looking at her with all the honesty he could muster up.

“Well for one, your mind. I know Parkinson; she’s not one of the brightest creatures to walk the earth. She has her strengths like anyone else, but her weaknesses seem to outweigh them. You might not be perfect yourself, but your marks have always been higher than hers, especially in my classes. You are worldlier than she is, well-spoken when you must be. I know you once spread yourself among the houses, while Parkinson never felt the need to associate outside of Slytherin. She saw you gain popularity on a broader scale than house loyalty.”

Rose shook her head. “I’m not popular.”

“But people still know who you are, for one reason or another. And you didn’t have to bully anyone for that to happen. I don’t think Parkinson likes it when other girls get attention like that, as innocent as it might be. I remember those friends of yours who left. The four of you were a walking Hogwarts banner.” Snape noticed the glimmer in the corner of Rose’s eye, nearly distracting him from her frown. Oh, that was probably the wrong thing to say still so early in the term. He scrambled to recover the mood. “I think that’s a testament to your ability to relate to nearly anyone, something Parkinson could never do. She’s like too many of my house. She was brought up in prejudice and bigotry. She probably gets frustrated to see a known half-blood with a soft spot for Muggles get the attention she wants.”

Rose nodded, her gaze drawn inward. She tipped back her glass and swallowed another good swig of sherry. She didn’t look very convinced. The dark haired wizard summoned a bit of courage to get on with his last point. “Might I also add that she is not the most attractive of women to walk through these halls.” He held his breath, worried about what kind of reaction he would get. To his relief, Rose giggled under her breath.

“Well…I’m not the next Miss Wizarding Britain either, but I can see what you’re getting at.”

“You see what I mean then? You might not think you are exceptionally good-looking, but Parkinson might. It is entirely possible that she sees some of the attention you have gotten from some of your male acquaintances as being romantically influenced.”

Rose laughed harder. “If only she knew that those male acquaintances were always drawn elsewhere. And besides, she’s got Malfoy. For her standards, I don’t think she has much to complain about.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” said Snape. “I know what you have said about Malfoy, you and your housemates.”

“Look Professor, I understand if he has issues, but we all do really. I’ll lay off him if that’s what you want.”

“I cannot control how you feel about him, so don’t humor me with pretense. And likewise, I cannot control what goes on inside Parkinson’s head. I can only tell you that whatever it truly is that sets her off, in the long run of it all, she may very well look back on her behavior and realize how petty it really was.” Rose gave Snape a little nod before downing the last of her drink. However, she continued to finger the delicate glass, tapping the sides with her nails. Snape looked at her, puzzled. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” said Rose. “It’s just funny, being told that it’s not really my fault, by you of all people.”

“Now Miss Beckett,” Snape said, shaking his head. “You don’t mean to say that you actually believe any of what Parkinson says, do you?”

“Of course not,” Rose looked down at her shoes. “Although…I did have my moments when I was younger. There’s only so much someone can take.”

Oh, he knew that too well! Severus might as well have been talking to his eighteen year-old self. Parkinson had been doing virtually the same thing James Potter had done to him all those years before. Rose might have carried herself as well as she could, but no one was meant to endure incessant bullying. No one deserved it anymore than he did, especially someone as brilliant as her. She was a better woman than Parkinson could ever dream herself to be. He silently cursed himself for ignoring all those opportunities to stop the squealy brat.

“I will say this much for you. You cannot please everyone, as much as you would like to. You have had your moments where you have been very stubborn and very annoying. But at the same time, you have become a strong-willed young woman. It is clear to me that you know what you want, and nothing will get in your way. But you go about it in a more proper way. Just the fact that you brush off the majority of your encounters with my students is admirable of you, and I’m not the only one who would say that. I also cannot ignore the fact that you Gryffindors have a knack for finding success. My experiences tell me that you will no doubt end up in a better place than Parkinson in the years to come. If I were you, I wouldn’t let pointless taunting get to me too much.”

Rose stared at her professor with full attention. She didn’t look as befuddled as she probably should, given the circumstances. She also didn’t look as unhappy. She looked more like she was holding back some reluctant wonder. Her eyes met his, and she made no move to redirect them. Snape felt the shudder of attraction inside as she smiled again.

“It’s nice to know you think that,” said Rose, almost like she couldn’t think of much else. “Why didn’t you say sooner that you were on my side?”

“You just happen to be more pleasant than a lot of my girls. That doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m on your side.” Snape looked to the clock sitting on the desktop. Eleven thirty: half an hour past Seventh year curfew. He sighed to himself. “Well, I believe that is more than enough stalling. If your housemates are doing anything in Gryffindor tower, I doubt it will be in the common room for all to see”

Rose sighed as well. She hauled herself to her feet and set her empty glass down on the desk. She waited patiently for Snape’s last late detention slip; her protection from Filch’s evening patrols. Snape handed it to her and she stuffed it into her pocket. She then shuffled toward the open door. “Thank you, sir. I guess I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

“Yes,” said Snape, rising from his own seat. “Now go, get out of my office. And stay away from Parkinson.”

“I will, no worries,” said Rose with a light chuckle. “Thanks for the sherry.”

Severus watched her leave from his office door. He hoped that she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers. And yet she did not look back as she left the empty classroom, and her heels clicked at a quick, steady pace down the dark halls. Now it was back to normal life for the two of them, or as normal as normal could be. Severus felt a twist in his gut, wondering if that was the last time he would have Rose to himself. But he quickly tried to dismiss the thought.

The only safe adoration was from afar.


	24. Highs and lows

“That’s it, Dean! Keep it tight! Nice steal, Demelza! Keep moving, Ron! Seamus, come out! Ritchie, you’re in!”

Harry straddled his Firebolt between his legs, keeping most of his weight up front without tipping into a nosedive. Hovering some fifty feet above the ground, he looked out over the Quidditch pitch, whipping his head back and forth among the seven players zipping around below. The brisk, autumn air tore right through him, blowing hair in front of his glasses. The first match against Slytherin was just weeks away, and he felt all the pressure in the world to turn up with the team that the whole school was expecting. They were good, no doubts about that. But if the rumors about Slytherin were even remotely true, they still had some work to do.

He groaned in his throat when he saw Demelza get the Quaffle knocked out from under her by her own partner. Emily Block was very fast and made a good chunk of her goal attempts. She was just very headstrong, not to mention very eager to please. If Harry could break her habit of rushing for the Quaffle, even if it was one of their chasers who had it, then they would have a much smoother game. It was good to finally have Rose back without any fear of Snape interfering with her involvement, but she wasn’t playing to the same caliber as in previous practices. It was like her mind wasn’t totally there. Twice already he had to jog her back into the match, and a Bludger had only just missed her head on one occasion. But then when she went for the hoops, the only thing that stopped her from scoring was Ron. Harry hoped that whatever was going on with her would resolve itself quickly. Demleza and Dean couldn’t carry the whole team on their shoulders.

Harry didn’t know which was harder, keeping track of the four chasers or keeping an eye on Seamus, Ritchie Coote, and their shared reserve Patrick O’Malley. As far as beaters went, they were capable at what they did. But it looked like they were using the others as target practice for the real thing. Good thing the girls were so quick. And all the while, Nickolas Bowman sped around above them all, in hot pursuit of the Snitch. Of course, he could have caught it twenty minutes ago; there were times when Harry was glad that he was still lead Seeker.

“Emily, you’ve got to work with Demelza! You’re a team, in case it’s missed you! Rose, get your head in the game and focus on the Quaffle!”

Harry could feel his voice getting hoarser and hoarser with every shout he tossed on the air. Thankfully for him, the team also got better and better with every goal. The Quidditch captain briefly wondered why he worried so much in weeks gone by. He picked the right people, and he picked the right reserves. The way he saw things, Slytherin and their big burly beaters could watch the hell out.

The mock score tied up, and Harry decided that he was satisfied with his team’s progress. He called out for them to land and leaned downward himself. He stumbled to his feet beside a sweaty, red-faced Ron. “Excellent job, guys. That’ll be it for today –,”

_*Bam*_

Bowman crashed to the ground and rolled towards Harry’s feet. He held up his tightly clenched fist, floppy little gold wings hanging from the creases. “I got it, Harry!” he gasped. “I got the Snitch!”

“Very good, Nickolas. Now, I think we’re in pretty great shape, but we’re not quite there yet. I’m going to try and get in one more practice before the first match. Keep up the good work, and we’ve got a shot at the championship.”

The Gryffindor team broke apart and went their separate ways. While most of them retreated into the locker rooms or headed up into the stands to meet up with waiting friends, Harry noticed Rose dump her broom off with the rest of the equipment and then head off in the direction of the castle, wiping the glaze of perspiration off her forehead. A little concerned that she didn’t stop to talk to anyone like she normally would, Harry nudged Ron’s arm and gestured to her turned back. The two of them jogged ahead to catch up with her. She only briefly looked at them and smiled when they came up on either side of her.

“I can walk up to the castle by myself, you know,” she said with, thankfully, a hint of sprightly humor.

“What’s up with you today, Rose?” asked Harry, referring to the quiet, distant air that had surrounded Rose most of that morning, leading up to their practice. With Rose being rather bubbly on the best of days, this was a little disconcerting to the Head Boy.

“Nothing, just a little tired.”

“Are you sure?” Ron asked, attracting Rose’s attention from her left to her right. “I know that look. That’s how Hermione looks when she’s thinking about something, and not deliberately either.”

Rose shrugged. “So what if I am? I’m not hurting anyone.”

“You could have paid better attention to O’Malley. He could have knocked you off your broom.”

“He’s right,” Harry agreed as they approached the bridge into the courtyard. Rose picked up her pace like she was trying to get away from them. “If you’re going to fill in for someone, I don’t need you getting hurt too. If there’s anything you want to talk about –,”

“I’m fine, you two,” said Rose. “Don’t go getting tied up in knots about me.”

“Come on,” Ron scoffed. “You look as though Snape decided you were below him again.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “If I were worried about anything, Snape wouldn’t have anything to do with it. If you ask me, you should be grilling Seamus about his backswing. He’ll kill one of us if he keeps doing that.” Beside her, Harry sighed as he shook his head. “You are impossible sometimes. You know that, right?”

“It’s because you’re guys. Maybe it’s around _that time for me_. Ever think of that?”

In their minds, Harry and Ron could hear tires coming to a loud, horrendous, screeching halt. They could only guess what Rose actually meant by that, but they definitely had a pretty good idea. And any which way they went, it all delved into the magical Women’s World, where male presence was neither needed nor wanted. Ron seemed to telepathically send this thought to Harry with a twitch of his eyes. Rose meanwhile had succeeded in shaking the boys off her back. She took off in the direction of the stairs as soon as they entered the doors, leaving Harry and Ron to their squeaked-out shudders.

**~HP~**

When she got back to Gryffindor tower, Rose wasted no time before dashing up the steps to the girls’ washroom, where the empty shower stalls waited to be used. Putting modesty and dignity aside, she stripped off her sweaty clothes and stood under the hot rush of water. She let the heat run down her body, relaxing the tense muscles of her back and shoulders. Reaching for the provided strawberry-kiwi scented shampoo, she scrubbed away the built-up sweat in her scalp. Rose took quite a lot of pleasure in having no one else around. She didn’t exactly lie to Harry and Ron. It was that magical time of the month for her, giving her an excuse to be a little sulky. But she had gone to Madam Pomfrey for a potion that morning, before cramps could do her in. No, she had a whole different reason to be aloof.

Wrapped in red towels, Rose made her way up to her room. She was briefly stopped by Lavender, who asked if she wanted to help with her manicure for her next date with Justin. But the redhead just gave a weak smile and politely declined. She told her blonde friend that she wasn’t feeling well, and that she should lie down for a while. She trusted that Lavender would pass that on if anyone should come looking for her.

The room was empty when she walked in, but Rose doubted it would be that way for long. Sure enough, she was wearing only knickers and a barely hooked bra when there was a knock on the door. Hermione walked in and smiled at her half-naked friend. “Hi Rose,” she said.

“Hey Hermione,” said Rose, rummaging through her half of the chest of drawers for some acceptable clothes.

“I managed to scrounge together a collection of tampons for up here. Now you won’t have to beg anyone again if you need one before a match.”

“If I even play a match,”

“The way Dean and Seamus mess around, I would be on my toes.” Hermione sat down at their vanity. She tapped the surface, watching Rose dress herself. “Say Rose, are you feeling alright?”   

“I’m having a period. I always feel better than I do at the moment.” Rose pulled a soft knit shirt over her head and reached for a pair of jeans.

“Yeah, but I was out watching the practice, and I was a little worried about you. You seemed so distant.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Rose groaned, struggling to pull the denim up her slightly swollen thighs. “I already had to deal with the boys. And somehow, I doubt that you’ll buy the time-of-the-month excuse.”

“You’re right, I won’t,” said Hermione. “What’s going on, Rose? Tell me all about it.”

Given her slightly weakened state, Rose didn’t really have much fight in her. Buttoning her jeans, she frowned as she settled down on the side of her bed. She laced her fingers together and leaned in over her aching middle. “I had that dream about him again.”

Hermione let her jaw drop down a bit as she nodded with a raised brow. Rose had recently been troubled by a recurring, disheartening dream where she saw her late beloved before her. “The same one?”

“The same one. Not one difference.”

_‘That’s the fourth time since term started,’_ Hermione thought to herself. “Are you okay?”

Rose sighed. “I guess. I don’t wake up crying anymore, I guess that’s an improvement.”

That wasn’t exactly the most comforting thing for Hermione to hear. Actually, it was borderline bollocks. The first time they had this quiet heart-to-heart some weeks ago, Rose ended up crying for almost half an hour. Rose didn’t cry very often, at least not openly. But when she did, it was quite heart-wrenching to an outsider looking in. And he was one of those thoughts that almost always pushed her over the edge. “It’s safe to assume that you haven’t talked to anyone about this, isn’t it?”

“I’m talking to you,” said Rose. “I think that counts for something.”

“Yes Rose, but I’m worried that I might not be enough. I want to help you, but you still walk around like a Fourth year that’s just been dumped whenever you have that dream. You shouldn’t have to live like that, getting all bent out of shape when you think about Da–,”

“Don’t say his name!” Rose snapped, whipping her head in Hermione’s direction. She rubbed her lower abdomen, as though that quick surge of emotion had kick-started her cramps again.

“See, you can’t even use his name!” Hermione crossed the room to sit on her bed, directly across from Rose. “I understand avoiding thinking about him when you can, but that’s just mad. You know that, don’t you?”

“Well I think it works. It stops me from getting upset.”

The Head Girl sighed. She knew that everyone had their own way of dealing with grief. But each time she saw Rose allow herself to crumble made Hermione believe more and more that her friend was going about it completely the wrong way. As clever as she was, she struggled to find the right thing to say. But what could you say to a grieving, heartbroken girl when you have already said everything you had to say?

“Rose, I understand what you’re going through –,”

“No, you don’t!” objected Rose. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose the man you love. You got Ron in the end. He lived to see You-know-who die, he’ll be a hero for the rest of our lives. You didn’t have to go through that pain. You didn’t have to watch someone carry away his dead body.”

“But if I had, I doubt I would be in much better shape than you. I still don’t know what I would do if I lost Ron.”

Rose looked down to the floor. The quiet sorrow in her expression eased into something along the lines of regret. She blew out a breath and glanced back up at Hermione. “You’re right. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” said Hermione. “In any case, I know it’s been really hard for you these last few months. But I’ve said it before. You cannot, _cannot_ go on like this forever. You can’t let one dream throw you off for a whole day. You can’t pretend like he never existed, no matter how hard you try.”

“Then what do you suggest I do?” Rose asked quite sternly.

“In my opinion, I think you should go get some help. Help beyond us, I mean.”

“You sound as though I should be locked away in St. Mungo’s.” Rose wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion or mockery, Hermione couldn’t tell which. “I don’t think you’re quite there yet,” she giggled. “But it probably would not hurt to go and talk to one of the teachers. I’m sure they could help you more than any of us could. Maybe you could bring it up the next time Professor Wicker invites you for tea.”

“Hermione, I adore Wicker, but not that much.”

“Alright, if you don’t feel comfortable with her, I’m sure that Re – that Professor Lupin would be willing to listen.”

“As if I don’t know why.” Rose stood and began to pace the room. “I read about his wife – what was her name again, Tonks? He lost her the exact same night. How do we know it’s not too soon for him to talk about her? And to comfort a weepy student he barely knows at that.”

“Well have you at least thought about doing that?” Hermione decided to ask up front.

Rose stopped her pacing in the middle of the floor, turning to face her friend. “If you really want to know, yes I have. Remember a few weeks ago, when you suggested that I talk to Snape? I actually did think about doing that for a split second.”

“And what stopped you?”

“Honestly, Snape did. As strange as it sounds, I feel like a wall came down from between us. You don’t know how cool that felt, to get to talk to him like that after all these years, after the things I said to him last month. I like what I had with him, and I didn’t want to screw that up.”

“You told me that he gave you a little advice before. Why would asking for more screw anything up?”

“Because knowing him, he would think I wanted to hear about Harry’s mother. That whole mess isn’t exactly undocumented, and he knows it. I’d just set him off, he’d shut me out again, and I’m back to mouthing off to him. I don’t want to do that to him again. He’s been through quite enough because of me. Besides, you said yourself that we have our futures to think about. I’ll need his support if I end up having to go into Potions.”

“I don’t want to say that you’re right, but you probably are,” said Hermione with a reluctant frown. She almost dared to ask Rose what was said in the Potions classroom after hours, as she didn’t usually go into great detail. All she could see was that Rose’s stress levels seemed to visibly lessen recently. Very odd considering the amount of time she had been trapped with that unpleasant bloke. “Will you at least give it some more thought?”

Rose huffed at Hermione’s complete inability to give up a thought. “I’ll talk to someone else when I’m ready, okay?”

“Fine, that’s all I ask for.” Rose came closer and Hermione reached out to grab her wrist, tugging her onto the bed. Rose settled down next to her. “In the meantime, you should really be focusing on yourself.”

“Huh?” said Rose, her voice dropping down to nearly a whisper.

“It’s been six months. You have had more than enough time to mourn. It’s time to move on and get your life back on track.”

“I’ve done that. I’m back at school, and I’ve got a new crop of friends. I’m fine with what I have now.”

“You’re just hanging onto something that you know can never be,” Hermione said with a certain headshake. “There are plenty of other guys out there.”

“I don’t want other guys. I want him.” A mist finally began to form in Rose’s eyes. “He was everything I could have ever wanted. He was looks, charm, and he had a heart underneath it all. Honestly Hermione, what are my chances of coming across that again? No, I can’t just replace him like that. I don’t think anyone could ever take his place.”

“I never said you had to do that. You don’t have to stop loving him if you don’t want to. But you shouldn’t have to sacrifice your happiness. Just take it slowly. Get out there and meet new people. You never know when someone special is right around the corner.”

Rose blinked away the tears and her lips tugged into a little smile. “I guess if I should take anyone’s word for it, it ought to be you, right?”

“Right,” said Hermione, smiling back and rubbing Rose’s forearm. “I didn’t always think that Ron was the right person for me. I can’t tell you how much I would love to go back to our first year and tell that to my younger self, just to see the look on my face. Love just happens, you can’t control it. And when it does happen to you again, you shouldn’t fight it.” She stood up off the bed, gently coaxing Rose to do the same.

“I’m still skeptical, Hermione.”

“Rightfully so, but that’s no excuse for not living.” Hermione playfully tugged Rose towards the door. “Now come on, let me dry your hair for you. Then I know what will cheer you up. What better for your monthly visitor than a few extra sweets before supper?”

**~HP~**

Severus paid little attention to the Yorkshire pudding in front of him at dinner. He paid even less attention to the conversations going on around him. To his right, Minerva and Albus were yammering on about how they might not be able to purchase a new set of student Astronomy telescopes for Sinistra’s advanced classes with the school’s more restricted budget. To his left, Remus was talking down the table to Cassandra Wicker, advising her of the proper way to dispose of the pixies that had somehow gotten out of his classroom and into hers. The Potions master was in no mood for idle chit-chat. The only thing he could really focus on was across the room, where Rose sat amongst her year-mates.

He had only seen her a few times that day, mostly as she passed him by in the halls. She always acknowledged him with a brief nod, but Severus could not help but notice her mood. She wasn’t as lively as she usually was, slower and in a slight mope. Whenever he heard her speak, her voice was soft and it often slipped into a drone. Even now, hours later, she still hadn’t returned to the delightful personality he admired so greatly. To him, it seemed that Rose was rather down on herself. He could only guess what it was that set her back so suddenly. But after what Rose had said in his office, showing him that she was not as confident as she made herself out to be, he wondered if another student had said something that bothered her in such a way.

Severus couldn’t comprehend why she would feel like that. He had heard what Pansy and her cronies had said about her for the entirety of their time at Hogwarts. All of it, whether it be the childish teasing or the cruel insults, was unwarranted and unreasonable. Rose had already grown to be a far better woman than any of her contemporaries in Slytherin, and much better looking to boot. She had her flaws like anyone else, but the ones that his students made a mockery of were so miniscule that they could have been false. Rose had nothing to worry about when it came to her character. And yet she still let feeble jabs get to her and bottled it up until she couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was better than lashing out at others, but Severus just did not like to see her unhappy. It really didn’t suit her.

There had to be something he could do. Rose was such a special young lady; he was reminded of that every time he came in contact with her. Her compassion alone set her apart from the sea of faces around her. And her beauty was more striking than she would ever admit. There had to be some way to make her see that herself. Severus thought hard, a way to show his admiration for her without giving himself away. He wasn’t necessarily aiming to get her attention in the way that he really wanted. At the end of the day, if she felt good about herself, if she felt cared for, if he could finally repay her for her kindness, then that was all he could ask for.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Rose raised her eyes and briefly made contact with his. Severus swiftly looked right, suppressing the internal flutters. He still felt her gaze however. Needing some kind of cover, Severus chose to spend the rest of the evening backing up Minerva on the slightly troubling budget issue.


	25. A witch's best friend

Taking Hermione’s advice, Rose managed to recover some spirit as the weekend sailed by. It wasn’t easy to put those emotions behind her for now, especially when that was combined with the hormonal roller coaster that almost every woman experiences. In hindsight though, it probably was the best thing for her. Her late friend was her first love, but she was only eighteen. If fate was on her side, there would be others. She just had her doubts, doubts that were as intimidating as scaling Mount Everest without so much as a Muggle pickaxe.

Monday dawned on a cloudy, dreary morning, and Rose found herself sitting alone at the sparsely populated Gryffindor table. She had woken up surprisingly early and instead of rolling over and waiting for the alarm to go off, she decided to just go down to breakfast on her own. Hermione would be down in a short while, and the others would not be far behind. In the meantime, Rose took small pleasure in marking up the shopping section of her brand new issue of _Witch Weekly_. The pages were soon covered with her little ink stars.

She kept finding her attention being drawn toward the head table. She eyed Snape as he read over his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , exchanging his coffee mug for a slice of buttered toast. What she didn’t say to Hermione was that she wished her detentions had gone on for a few more days. She had been working for her dignity, but for some reason, they had brought a sense of calm to her. That tough weekend had made her realize that Snape’s presence was something that she kind of missed. Whether he realized it or not, he had made her feel good on multiple occasions. He could also probably do it again. She wished that she still had access to the Potions master in that way, but she did promise to stay out of his hair. He really needed some time to himself, time to recover his health.

She was about to start reading an article about a witches’ day-spa in the remote fenlands of Lincolnshire when she became keenly aware that someone else had walked up behind her. Stirring the cornflakes in front of her, Rose carefully looked over her shoulder, half-expecting to see one of her friends arriving for the day. Luna Lovegood stood with great posture, twiddling her laced fingers at her waist.

“Hello Rose Beckett. Lovely morning, isn’t it?” she said in a tone a bit too wispy and lively for so early in the _gloomy_ morning. Rose was more than a little confused given that she and Luna had barely said ten sentences to each other in the last several years. Even when they did interact, it was usually because their groups of friends melded together. Rose thought that the Ravenclaw was loony when they first met, and she still thought the same now.

“Hello Luna,” said Rose, cautiously. “Wha – what can I do for you?”

“I need to ask you some questions.” Luna plopped down on the bench beside Rose and helped herself to a blueberry muffin.

“Questions? Me?” Rose had been fully prepared for a rambling about creatures that may or may not exist, so that caught her off guard. “Whatever about?”

“If you want to please a boy, what would be the best perfume to use?”

“Oh,” Rose said as she raised her brow. That was just as unexpected. “Well um…it depends on what fragrances you like, what he likes. It’s all to do with compromise, I guess.”

“Oh alright,” Luna curtly nodded. “So would you say that the same is true with makeup?”

Rose wrinkled a flaxen brow at Luna. “You and Neville aren’t having problems, are you?”

“Oh no, not at all,” said Luna. “It’s just that something has been telling me to – you would say – spice things up a little.”

“And so you come to me?” Rose flipped back to the shopping pages to look once again at the handsome green jacket she had admired for weeks. “Luna, if I know anything about Neville, it’s that he likes his women just the way they are. From what I’ve heard, you’ve done fine on your own. And why me exactly? Why don’t just go and talk to Hermione?”

“You seem to be more knowledgeable in that sort of stuff. You have a good idea about what boys like.”

“In case it’s missed you, I’m single. I don’t know if I’m that trustworthy.”

“Well, Hermione mentioned that you read a lot of women’s magazines, that you couldn’t go one week without reading one. That’s pretty trustworthy to me.”

“Luna, any girl could be an expert if they read enough _Witch Weekly._ I just happen to have gotten hooked.”

“Is that so?” asked Luna, eying the open booklet in front of Rose’s cereal bowl.

“Yeah, probably. Nothing is typical. It’s just fun to try it out every now and then.”

“Interesting,” Luna pulled the magazine closer to see. “Any intriguing articles this week?”

“I wouldn’t know because I just got it yesterday. Haven’t had a chance to read it yet.” Rose tugged a corner back towards her.

“I see you did go through the shopping pages,” said Luna. “That’s quite a lovely jacket you marked. It would really bring out your eyes, although twenty galleons does seem a bit pricey to me.” 

_‘I know that, don’t rub it in,’_ Rose thought, resisting the urge to snarl. Of course, it would bring out her eyes. That’s why she would consider spending more money than was probably needed.

Luna flipped back several pages, scanning over the dazzling images and words. More and more, she looked enchanted by the world of alleged trends, a world that she mostly chose to ignore. Being someone who didn’t know Luna so well, Rose thought this was stranger than clippings out of the _Quibbler_. She also definitely knew that there could only be one thing behind this, and his name was Neville Longbottom.

“Do you think I could borrow this for a while?” asked Luna. But Rose was very hesitant. “I, uh…I’m not so sure about that.”

“Please? I’ll give it back at supper, I promise.” Luna batted her eyes in a terrifically pathetic way that she probably wasn’t aware of.

Rose didn’t want to come across as nasty or selfish to her housemate’s girlfriend. But it was _her magazine_. She let out a sigh as she looked down at the scribbled-on paper. It really was going to be a long, boring Monday. “Alright, I guess you could take it. But I want it back tonight, from either you or Neville.”

“Yes, absolutely.” The Ravenclaw rolled up the booklet and stuffed it into a robe pocket. “Thanks a lot.” She took off, blonde locks floating behind her, over to the entrance to the hall, where Neville had just sleepily hobbled in.

Almost like she was stunned, Rose watched her for a second or two. She thought to herself that giving up her addiction might have been easier than trying to describe an anecdote to the chronically offbeat Luna. Scooping up a mouthful of cereal, she shifted her gaze back up to the head table to watch Snape with his eyes glued to his newspaper. She vaguely wondered if the slight tugging in her gut was some suppressed desire for those eyes to look up at her.

**~HP~**

It was not uncommon to find Luna with her nose in the folds of a magazine. But the fact that it was _Witch Weekly_ she was reading caused more than a few double-takes. Throughout breakfast, she poured over the pages, one by one. Even Neville couldn’t stop her from indulging in the articles on using potions in speed dating, which ingredients could double as makeup, and instructions for _Violet’s Volumising Brew for limp hair._ The entire time, as she went back and forth between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables, Luna took great care to make sure that the paper didn’t get torn and that nothing got spilt or smeared onto it. It was a kind thing of Rose to let her borrow her things, so she would want to see to it that it was returned to her in fine shape. Yet she couldn’t get enough of it. The morning meal was not enough time to thoroughly read into such fascinating ideas. Luna’s mind churned all morning, blurring timelines together and briefly making work seem less important. She was still reading when she arrived for her early Potions lesson.

Snape was giving them a lecture on the inner makings of love potions, which Luna didn’t think she would get much out of. Everyone knew that there was such thing as a genuine _love_ potion. All people her age wanted to know was what you could do with the ruddy stuff. Please, she had already gotten a fair few ideas from one issue of _Witch Weekly._

Speaking of which…

Using her place at the back of the room for cover, Luna carefully and quietly tugged the booklet out of her bag. She kept one ear open to Snape while her eyes gravitated to her lap. She turned back to the article about potions and beauty products. It was mostly common plants and herbs that could be ground up into a more natural makeup. It was rather simple considering it was what most women did before Muggles created those brightly colored powders. But she wondered what Neville would say if he knew she was wearing his precious herbs. A man like him would probably get a royal kick out of it. Already, she was trying to recall which of those herbs were readily available in the student stores to try out at first opportunity.

“And what do you think you are doing, Lovegood?”

Luna jumped in her seat, startled. She looked up to see Snape standing right beside her. He was staring down his long nose at her with slits for eyes. Luna giggled in a way in that there was no sense in hiding her guilt. “He-he…Professor, I –,”

“You are to tell me that you were not reading a magazine under your desk? If that is so, I would love to know what it is you _are_ doing.”

“I…I was just –,”

“A likely story,” Snape cut her off. “Tell me, Miss Lovegood. Am I boring you? Are my lessons useless to a witch such as yourself? Well, I can safely assure you that you will never find answers in the pages of _The_ _Quibbler_ , and you certainly won’t find any in _Witch Weekly._ ”

“Professor, I’m sorry –,”

“Evidently, not enough that you think to waste my time.” Snape lashed out and grabbed the magazine from Luna’s hands. He sneered at the frilly cover. “Truly pathetic, Lovegood, that you would prefer this rubbish over actual fact. Ten points from Ravenclaw. Now pay attention.” He started to walk away, the magazine still in hand.

“But Professor, that’s not mine,” said Luna, only slightly raising her voice. She didn’t sound panicked, just objective and matter-of-factly. Snape turned back to her, a distinct arch in his brow. “Oh really, then whose is it exactly?” It was more of a test than an actual question, to see if the loopy girl would have the gall to use someone else to get away from trouble.

“It’s…it’s…”

“Um-hmm, so I thought,” Snape fingered the paper. “I suppose that will be five more points from –,”

“It’s Rose Beckett’s, sir. She let me borrow it,” Luna explained, wry as ever. Snape’s other dark eyebrow perked up at the name, still no detectable emotion in his face. “I promise not to read it anymore, sir. But she is expecting it later today, so I really need that back, if you please.”

“Not a chance,” said Snape, not missing a single beat. He walked around and behind his desk. “If that is truly the case, then I will see to it that Miss Beckett’s belongings are returned to her. That however does not change my mind about your house points. Now turn to the appropriate text and keep your head in the real world for one minute.”

Luna swallowed as she watched Snape place the magazine in a drawer and close it with a hard snap. She hoped that Snape meant what he said. It wasn’t very likely, but a man could change his mind if he pleased. And even if he didn’t, Neville always described Rose as a perfectly nice girl. She could understand what happened, although Luna had heard how Rose could be a holy terror at her worst. The nerves began to fester in her stomach. It would be a good six or seven hours before she found out the outcome of her little lapse in common sense, which was just enough time to conjure up a suitable fib just in case.

**~HP~**

“You know my boy, one of these days, I have to ask the House-elves where they get their meats from. I haven’t enjoyed a turkey sandwich this much in years.”

Severus rolled his eyes at the headmaster sitting across from him, though it wasn’t as sinister as if it had been someone else of the Gryffindor variety. He soon turned his attention back to his own sandwich in his hand. For some reason, classes that morning seemed to double in length, and at the moment, no sight was more pleasing than the simple platter of turkey, ham, and cheese laid out on Dumbledore’s desk. “Of all people who should know that, I believe it ought to be you.”

“Believe me, I have enough on my plate. These budget issues are killing us, Severus! I know this is a tough time for a lot of people, but some of these cuts are just ridiculous! I really need to give Kingsley a good talking-to.”

“I think it might take a little more than that if you want to have enough money for Cassandra to do what she wants with her class,” said Severus, again rolling his eyes at the terribly annoying ideas the woman had been tossing around the staffroom as of late.  Albus chuckled. “Now Severus, I think taking the older ones out to the theatre in London is a splendid idea. So much so, I would pay for it out of my own pocket if I had to.”

“There are over twenty-five students in NEWT level classes alone. It’s more money than it’s worth.” Severus sipped from the goblet of chilled tea that Albus had presented him with.

“I’m glad that you decided to accept my invitation to take lunch up here,” said Albus. “I hardly have the time to sit and have a proper conversation with you.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like to spend _all_ my time alone,” said Severus. “I was never so lucky to have voices in my head to keep me occupied.”

“I’m glad just to see you eating. I do hope that you have gotten your morning sickness under control, finally.”

“It’s a wonder what dry crackers and herbal teas can do. I don’t want to test my luck, but I’ve felt better the last few days than I have in weeks.”

“Oh Severus, you have no idea how good it is to hear that from you,” Albus smiled, eyes twinkling as he reached for his own drink. “I don’t think you know just how worried you had me. Bed-bound one day, fainting another, cancelling classes. My boy, I’ve seen you get the flu and still have the strength and obstinacy to continue teaching. Poppy and I were afraid that we would have been forced to take you off the job for a while.”

Severus’s brow cocked over the rim of his goblet. “Poppy failed to mention that one.”

“Only because your condition has improved.”

“Lovely to know that you have so little faith in my stamina,” said Severus, shaking his head in his own sarcasm. “By the way, what else has the woman told you? Has she found anything on the spell that caused me to get pregnant?”

“I was actually going to ask you the same thing,” said Albus. “All I’ve heard is that she’s combing the library in her spare time, when she has spare time that is. She hasn’t even started on the Restricted Section yet.”

“The sooner she finds something, the better. If any of this is going to kill me, it would help to know about it ahead of time.”

“Now Severus,” Albus said, placing his now empty plate onto his desk. “I have complete confidence that both you and the baby will survive this ordeal. Poppy might have specialized with children, but she knows what she’s doing. She would hex herself into next year before letting something terrible happen to you.”

“I don’t doubt that, but there was a time when women regularly risked their lives to have babies. And though I don’t know much about those alleged cases of wizard pregnancies, I can easily assume that they didn’t end well.”

“That was then, this is now. Make no mistake, Poppy is preparing herself for any and every complication that might pop up. But in my opinion, it will be for nothing because nothing is going to happen.” Severus offered Albus a half-ass smirk, pretending to be more interested in his sandwich. “While on the topic of your pregnancy, there are a few things I think we should discuss.”

“Yes?”

“Since you have decided that you are carrying the child to term, have you thought about when you would possibly go on leave?”

Severus’s mind went uncharacteristically blank. With all the effort that carrying and birthing a child required, time off was almost inevitable. But with his thoughts being taken up by his possible future with or without the child, not to mention his distracting draw to Rose, Severus’s working conditions had been tossed to the side.

Albus continued. “Poppy believes that you will deliver in late April or early May, correct? I would think that you would like to begin your…your maternity leave a few weeks beforehand.” He smiled apologetically for his choice of words, which had Severus forcing out a sigh. Well, what else could you call it?

“I don’t want to give up my classes, Albus. If Poppy is correct, that would put my due date right before finals. I wouldn’t want to go on _medical leave_ and leave the students at that time, especially my NEWT classes. It could potentially end up a disaster on the day of those exams.”

“You plan on working right up until you give birth, don’t you?” Albus raised a bushy, white eyebrow, as well as the corner of his mouth. Severus swallowed his last mouthful and rested his crumb-dusted plate on the headmaster’s desk. “I do, unless of course you have some objection to that.”

“I don’t see too much trouble with that prospect, but I do hope that you consider a backup plan of sorts. Poppy sees it fit to remind me that you cannot be too careful in pregnancy. What would you do if you ended up having to go on bed rest? I’m sure that Horace would not mind coming back for a few weeks to see the children through their exams.”

“I’ve heard that he’s on a year-long holiday in the Virgin Islands,” said Severus. He straightened his back against the back of his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “Look Albus, no one needs to tell me that being pregnant isn’t easy. I know that I will have to make changes along the way, and I am prepared for that. But I would rather not think about those changes until it is necessary. Right now, I plan on teaching my classes as I ordinarily would until I have the baby, so that’s how it will be.”

“Very well my boy, but that still leaves medical leave for after you have the baby.”

“Well, if I am to go through childbirth, I imagine I would require a week or two to heal from that. Then I would finish out the rest of the term.”

Albus frowned to himself. Severus was obviously dancing around the subject of long-term leave, just as obviously because he had not yet made up his mind. However, the old wizard knew ahead of time that he was not going to press Severus for answers. Considering adoption was never an easy thing to do, no matter who it was that said different. Severus had endured quite a lot of turmoil over the course of his life. He had an unstable home growing up, not much guidance, and not nearly enough love. He had been led to get entangled with the worst of people. He carried the weight of innocent people’s lives on his shoulders. Not many people could look into Severus’s deep, obsidian eyes and see a scrap of any sort of feeling. But even there in his office over lunch, Albus didn’t have to look twice to see the immense doubt. Poor Severus hardly knew what it took to be a good parent. Of course, he would be uncertain when faced with becoming one himself.

However, the lad had proven himself quite capable. Generation after generation of Slytherin students had passed through his dungeon halls, had been left in his hands. True, he encouraged house rivalries, and his grip on discipline for his own house was often quite loose. But that was as far as he let it go. If any of his students did anything truly terrible, he made damn sure they knew it. He actually discouraged the older ones from carrying on in their ruffian ways. Privately, he would talk to them about where they were heading in life, and he gave them advice with how to handle their own affairs. They looked to him for support, and most of the time, they got it. And as a result, only a bare few of them ended up turning to Lord Voldemort and the comforts he promised for their allegiance.

The elderly headmaster smoothed out his beard, pulling a candy dish closer to the edge of his desk with nothing more than a silent charm. He reached for one of the Muggle chocolate drops resting in it, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. He let the little morsel melt on his tongue. “I suppose we’ll see what happens from there, dear boy.”

“At this point, that is all I ask for,” said Severus, eying the silver dish.

“Once you have cleared your head, it will get easier to make those sorts of decisions. Although, I do hope you are still thinking about keeping the child.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” Severus sighed. “The positives are still vastly outnumbered on that matter.”

“Do you want to know what I think about that?” asked Albus. Severus humored him with a nod of his head. “I think you are seriously underestimating yourself. I understand, your father was not exactly Father-of-the-year material. But you know, you don’t need anyone to tell you how to be a good father. You may find that it will just come to you.”

“You realize you say that to the one professor that the students say should never be allowed to procreate.”

“Oh, it’s not that many of them,” Dumbledore laughed. “Also, don’t think that I haven’t noticed how many of the Slytherins turned out fairly decent for what their reputation dictates. You don’t know how to handle children?”

“I did not want to see any of them turn out the way I did.”

“Which shows how much you care about them,” said Albus. It was something he often suspected, but never said. “You have helped to raise some fine young people in the last several years. If that is what you can do with someone else’s children, imagine what it could be with your own.”

“Given the circumstances, I don’t know if I can.”

_‘He’ll come around,’_ Albus quietly thought to himself. _‘He can bring up this baby and do it well if I do say so myself. He will realize that for himself or my name isn’t Albus Dumbledore.’_

Much to Dumbledore’s surprise, Severus took hold of a bit of chocolate and carefully peeled off the foil wrappings. He placed it in his mouth and chewed methodically. “Why Severus, I always assumed that you didn’t care much for chocolate.”

The younger wizard swallowed and reached for another piece. “Not as much as others around here. If you must know, I have been having an odd craving for it since Rose Beckett shoved hers down my throat. I’ve already confiscated a few unopened bars from some First years. A bit funny really. I haven’t enjoyed the retched stuff this much since I was a boy.”

“Then treat yourself, my dear boy. Now that you are able to keep your food down, you should take advantage of that. Cravings will happen, so why not satisfy them?”

“I suppose you could be right,” said Severus. “I just hope that this is as far as it goes. Pomona has already tried to tell me about how I may find myself combining pickles with an odd assortment of condiments.”

Albus chuckled heartily. “Honestly, I will look the other way if you do. The only thing that could alarm me would be if I heard anything about you wondering what chalk tastes like.” Severus let out a short laugh before coming to his senses. He rolled his eyes, biting into the piece of chocolate in his hand. For a Muggle variety, it was actually rather tasty.

“This also doesn’t give you permission to fill my robe pockets with sweets,” he said, putting the headmaster in his place before the thought could pass through his aging mind.

**~HP~**

“So I heard that Blaise Zabini is prowling around for a new nighttime plaything,” said Lavender, repeatedly sipping her pumpkin juice. Around her, the Gryffindor Seventh years were tucking into their evening meals like she was chatting about something as mundane as the weather. “I knew he couldn’t go one term, _one term_ and keep it in his trousers.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised he managed a week without turning blue.” Parvati uncharacteristically sneered, shoveling roast potatoes onto her plate. Dean sat next to her, trying to muffle his laughter with a mouthful of food. The two girls had always maintained that Zabini would sleep with anything with a pulse, and there wasn’t a single Seventh year, male or female, who would think to disagree.

Seamus rolled his eyes. “Aye, it’s only a matter of time before he comes sniffing around our turf. He went through three girls in fifth year alone.”

“Lock up your women!” Ron laughed, wrapping an arm around Hermione’s neck and pulling her into his torso. The other men chuckled along with him, and Dean shifted a little closer to Parvati as he did so. Hermione scoffed at such a barbaric idea, hinting to Harry that the women could handle themselves just fine.

Rose meanwhile was tearing herself between backing Hermione up and staring up the hall, letting go of several, very long sighs. She never thought she would see a longer day than the time when she sat for her O.W.L.s. Mondays dragged on as they were, but it was frankly ridiculous without her precious _Witch Weekly._ And those yippy Sixth year girls she heard talking about the issue in the loo, that was just annoying. Her impatience was pushed down more as each class crawled by at a drunken snail’s pace. The most exciting thing that had happened to her was earning ten bronze knuts for chocolate frog cards of Merlin and Morgan le Fey, both at the expense of a rather desperate young Slytherin. Maybe Hermione was right after all. She couldn’t go one week without her fix. Suppertime helped to ease her delicate sense of irritation. At least now Rose had the company of people she liked to turn to for distraction. And occasional gossip about other people’s sex lives certainly didn’t hurt either.

She again was letting her gaze wander to Snape’s seat. She still felt that puzzling pull to him, catching her eye whenever their paths crossed. His class had actually been the only reasonable one that day, so rare for the start of the week. Totally immersed in the lesson, Rose was more interested in what Snape had to offer than in her missing periodical. Her lips tugged into a smirk, thinking of that surge of pride those four correct answers produced. Actually, only she, Hermione, and Malfoy had been allowed to talk that day. And twice, Hermione was passed over in her favor.

The Potions professor finished off his last bite and rose from his seat. Guessing that he was leaving, Rose shook herself back into reality and dismissed her silly wandering thoughts. She tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Lavender tell Parvati about a way to shake off unwanted men that she had read about in _Witch Weekly,_ in case she found herself the target of Zabini’s overactive libido. The urge to snarl returned along with the reminder of Rose’s still missing magazine. She looked to Neville, who was a few inches to her left, listening in on the nonsense.

“Say Neville, did Luna ever give you my copy of _Witch Weekly_? I haven’t seen her since this morning, and I’m still waiting for it.”

Neville shook his head, making an odd face. “I haven’t seen it since breakfast. Luna told me before lunch that she would bring it to you…oh wait. Here she comes.” Rose turned around as Luna came floating up the aisle toward her. Cracking an anxious smile, Rose pulled her legs out from under the table and swung around the other side of the bench.

“Hey Luna,” she said, speaking as though they had been bosom buddies for their entire lives. “So did my magazine help you out at all?”

“Yes, actually,” said Luna, a certain snag catching her tone of voice. “There were some very interesting suggestions in those articles. I almost wonder how I didn’t think of them myself.” She shifted her gaze to Neville with a cute little smile, a subtle gesture that caused him to flush a light pink. Rose offered him a playful smirk. As odd and slightly mismatched as they were, those two were quite cute together.

“So where is it?”

Luna snapped her eyes back and her face also seemed to take on a healthier shade. “Eh – what?”

“My magazine, I still haven’t gotten it back. Where have you got it?” Rose looked up at Luna’s face, waiting for the booklet to appear from inside her sleeve. That was when she noticed the shrinking expression around her little mouth, the twitchy shift in her gray eyes. She looked like a guilty child being confronted by their parent.

“I –um – Rose, about your magazine…”

“What about it?” asked Rose, her tone hardening with each word. Luna tried to force a slight giggle. “Well…eh, it’s a bit of a funny story really –,”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Luna, what happened?”

Luna swallowed, as subtly as she could manage. She briefly looked to Neville, who nodded her on. “Rose, I’m really, really sorry. But I…I lost it. I left my bag open, and it must have slipped out somewhere in the halls. I retraced my steps, but anyone could have picked it up by now.”

There it was! It was exactly what Rose feared would happen if she let go of her things; lost or destroyed! She had been subjected to inescapable boredom all day long. She had been looking forward all day to immerse herself into those pages, to tune out the world for just an hour. Now Luna’s carelessness would cost her that scrap of delight! And on top of that, her insolent scribbles were now out there for the whole world to see. Deep in her gut, Rose felt anger mixing with her just-eaten meal to create an uncomfortable burn. The color drained from her cheeks, rendering her pale complexion severe. And thankfully, any immediate words that came to her were caught in her throat.

“I hope you understand,” Luna continued. “And again, I’m very sorry.”

“You…you lost my magazine?” asked Rose, a very firm hold on her voice. The tension in her stomach was slowly working its way up to her head. It was like some animal was trying to claw its way out of her. No, she could not lose her mind over something so stupid! Nobody would be able to let her live it down, nobody!

Luna seemed to pick up on the Gryffindor’s agitation. Behind her back, her hands were tying themselves together. But she didn’t so much as shuffle her feet an inch or two back. “It was an honest mistake. I lost some class assignments of mine the same way. I should have been more careful, especially as I was carrying someone else’s things.”

Now Rose was struggling to not snarl at Luna. Her tense knuckles tightened around her knee, and her breast forced out hot breath. Hermione, who had been sitting to Rose’s right and listening through one ear, turned her head to her heated housemate. “Rose, are you okay?” It was a stupid question, but one that would hopefully diffuse something in Rose’s head.

“Oh just fine, Hermione,” Rose chewed out, still glaring up at Luna.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Luna offered. “I’ll buy you another copy when we go into Hogsmeade –,”

“On Saturday!” snapped Rose, cutting her off. “The new editions come out on Sunday. There’s no point.”

“Take it easy, Rose,” Hermione urged as she shifted her body to better face her roommate. “It’s not that big of a thing.”

“You say that because it’s not your things.” Rose said with a low-lying growl. She could sense that she had just minutes left on her fuse before she started spewing words. It quickly dawned on her that if she didn’t do something fast, she would totally lose it in front of hundreds of people, including a certain Transfigurations professor who would not hesitate to scold her into the stone over her many-times-lectured temper. Really, the last thing she needed was to cement the reputation that Pansy Parkinson had helped to create for her. She reached back to push herself up off the edge of the table.

“What are you doing?” asked Hermione and Neville at almost the same moment. The formally awkward Longbottom gripped the table, as though to launch himself up to Luna’s side.

“I need to get some air. I don’t know if I’ll be back.” Rose wasn’t in very much mood for explaining herself. She got a better hold on her self-control long enough to straighten the hem of her skirt. She then set off for the Great hall’s massive doors, the clacking of her heels only the slightest bit louder. Just as her shoulder brushed past Luna’s, she managed to get out one little lie. “No hard feelings.”

Luna watched Rose as she walked down the long length of stone and left the hall. Once she was sure that the red-haired Seventh year was gone, she turned her attention back down to the table. “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” she said, almost sighing her relief.

“Luna, it was an accident,” said Hermione, her tone caught somewhere between relaxed and stern. “Rose will understand. Just give her a chance to cool down, she’ll come around.”

“I told you, Sweetness, she’s not that bad.” Neville smiled as he reached for Luna’s hand. He gently coaxed her down onto the bench and laid a kiss on her forehead. “I don’t know who told you that she has daily conniptions, but they are way off target.”

**~HP~**

Just outside the Great hall by the staffroom door, Rose was doing her best to prevent exactly that. She had pressed herself up against the wall, facing the ancient stone. She rested her forehead against the rough surface, breathing away the hard tension through gritted teeth. On either side of her head, white fist rapped away to the tune of her frustration. At the moment, Rose could not give a fuck if someone happened to walk by and think that she had finally snapped. She just had to pretend that she was in some deep dark void… _all alone._ There was no one to bother her, no one to ruin her plans, and certainly no one to “lose” her _Witch Weekly._ It was far better to punch the wall than to attack innocent little Luna.

She had retreated so deeply into herself that she didn’t hear the sharp click of a door handle, or the tapping of a boot. “Miss Beckett, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

Rose did not jump at Snape’s deep voice, though it did yank her out of La-La-land and back into reality-land. In an attempt at a passable impression of an owl, she twisted her head around to half-face the Potions master. He was leaning against the staffroom’s archway, his back resting on the closed door. He had his hands in his robe pockets, and a relaxed cock in his brow. If he was trying to be threatening, it sure wasn’t working. She had to strain her voice to say, “Nothing, Professor.”

“You know, the last time I saw someone beating against the wall like that, they were completely barking.” Snape folded his arms across his chest. “And the last time I saw your face that red, I was pulling you out of a scrap. I’m almost obligated to ask if anything is wrong.”

“It’s nothing, sir,” said Rose, releasing her tension enough so that her face could blanch again. She turned her body completely to Snape.

“Really? Seems to me like you are angry,” Snape said with sarcastic undertones. “And having quite a fit, by the looks of it.”

“Believe me Professor, you’ve seen a fit, and this is not it.” Surrendering to her bad mood, Rose leaned back against the wall.

“Alright Miss Beckett, what happened?”

Hesitation was an understatement compared to what shot through Rose’s mind. Knowing Snape as well as she did, she felt that telling him her predicament would provide him with more entertainment than watching Harry on the wrong end of a Leg-locker Curse. “Nothing…”

Snape shook his head. “Come Miss Beckett, I know that you can’t hold your tongue forever. Just spill it and get it over with.” Rose looked away with a strong sigh. What use was there in lying to a man who was known to be a Legilimens? And why was it that she forgot that little fact? Even so, this man had already heard things from her that most people ordinarily would not. It was hardly a confession to blow off a little steam that just wouldn’t let up.

“Let’s say that I had some arrangements that due to incidents beyond my control have gone awry.”

“I’m assuming that these _arrangements_ were not that important. Am I right?” Rose slowly nodded her head, and Snape snickered under his breath. “And I thought you promised to control your temper.”

“I am controlling my temper!” Rose barked. Snape raised his brow at her. “By leaving the room?”

“Eh…yes, I suppose so.”

Now Snape was muffling his laughter. “Stubbornness, both irritating and amusing! Miss Beckett, for your sake and everyone else’s, do calm yourself. I doubt that your mother would appreciate another letter from Professor McGonagall about your violent disposition.”

Damn, she hadn’t even thought of that one! Oh yes, Rose thought, that would go over really well with Mummy-dearest. “No need to remind me of that, sir.”

“Yes, think of what she would say, how unbecoming it would be of an English lady.”

“But you know how hard it is to stop yourself once you’re in that mindset,” Rose said, stretching an open hand out to the Potions master.

“That I do,” said Snape. The harshness of his features seemed to relax away. “But I can also entertain how pointless it is to let little things set you off.”

“Really Professor? Wasn’t it a month ago that you deducted house points from people who sneezed in class?”

Snape shifted his black eyes away for a moment, almost as though he had forgotten that little incident. He shook his head, more to himself. “Alright, so I might not be the best example. I could say that I can’t control it any more than you can, but at this point, it might be because I don’t know any better. Let me put it to you this way. Do you want to end up like me?”

That was a trick question, though whether Snape intended that or if Rose just came to the conclusion herself was anyone’s guess. End up like Snape? A well-known, widely respected potioneer, yes. A snarling nutter with a famously bad temperament, no. She assumed, of course, that he was referring to the latter, and she shook her head with a little smirk.

“I didn’t think so,” Snape continued. “You’re a clever girl; I like to think that you know better. Anger doesn’t really suit you anyway. It’s quite an ugly emotion. It’s not much of a surprise that you can’t get a date.” Rose listened to Snape’s voice, ignoring the sneer and taking in what Snape was trying to say. With each second that passed, she felt the tension in her head and torso drain. For a brief moment, she was back in the Potions classroom. She thought being alone was the answer to her frustration, and all it took to bring her down was a little chat with the “greasy bastard.”

The subtle smile she offered could not have been more genuine.

Snape stepped out of the doorway and walked in the direction of the stairs. “Go back to your simpleton friends, Miss Beckett,” he said. “And do control yourself. Whatever it is that’s got your knickers in a knot, it will pass and you can all get back to wasting your days with nonsense.”

_‘Oh yeah, I’ll bet you did the exact same thing when you were my age.’_ Rose thought to herself as she watched the Potions master vanish down a flight of stairs. She could not help herself when she released a much shorter sigh, raising her blue eyes to the high ceiling with a smile. She couldn’t have felt more like one of Snape’s favored Slytherins if she tried.

She was about to reenter the Great hall, calm and collected when she suddenly came face to face with Neville. “Oh Rose,” he said, as surprised as she was. “You came back. I was just going to go look for you.”

“What for?” asked Rose.

“I wanted to make up for what happened with Luna. I felt bad when Hermione told me how much you were looking forward to reading that magazine. Well, I have a few pieces of bronze to spare, and this morning’s _Prophet_ has an ad with _Witch Weekly_ ’saddress. If you want, I will personally write in for a rush order on a new copy. It will be here by Wednesday.”

Rose blushed, the word “ _aww”_ just on the tip of her tongue. She could have thought to do that herself, and yet someone was willing to do it for her, even if it was to cover his girlfriend’s tracks. She smiled again as she patted Neville’s shoulder. “I’ll give Luna one thing. She knows a good guy when she sees one.”


	26. When you have no one else to turn to

Why was it that something always happened to make a bad morning worse for Severus? It was enough that he woke up to his ever irritable stomach which sought to kick back whatever he ate, the only thing to quell it being a steady intake of ginger tea. Then there were the children. As though a phase of the moon produced some sort of phenomenon, the Slytherins all seemed to have some issue that rendered them incredibly needy. Malfoy and the rest of the Quidditch team were the worst, harping for an executive order to get them more practice time. And since he had been scarce of other faculty for most of the morning, it was a matter of time before dear old Albus attempted to reach out to him, like he always did. Severus didn’t always want to be alone, but sometimes he could not help but to escape into his office.

Severus breathed deeply between the forced mouthfuls of toast, trying his best to manage the taste of butter sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. He wanted to be angry at Dumbledore for choosing something so revoltingly sweet to send down to him in the middle of the morning, but that was the risk he took by reaching for chocolate right in front of the headmaster. The Potions master snarled to himself, or rather at himself. The fact that he was still a bit queasy at the moment certainly didn’t do a thing to ease his frustration. He could hardly look at the sweet red apple sitting to the side of his desk. Severus wanted to eat. He wanted to do what he could to keep the baby healthy. But if he was to follow Poppy’s orders and spread his intake throughout the day, everyone else had to work with him, him and his changing palate. And for now, chocolate was the sweetest he would think to touch.

Outside his closed door, he could hear the loud, familiar squeak at the classroom’s entrance. Great, another attention-starved student coming to look for him for who knew what! Obligation setting in, Severus stuffed the last rough bite of toast into his mouth, shuttering with the immediate swallow. He sat forward to lean on his desk and prepared himself for what surely was nothing more than word-vomit consisting entirely of teenage melodrama. There was a knock, and he sluggishly shouted his permission to enter.

“Hello Severus…I just came to check on you. Everyone upstairs has been wondering where you were all morning.”

Severus exhaled hard as Remus stepped carefully into the room. Oh yes, a bad morning just got worse. “As you can see, Lupin, I am very much alive. You can take that back to Albus and Minerva.”

“I see you got the food Albus sent for.” Remus’s words were awkward, obviously a weak attempt at conversation. “Good to see that you’re eating. Have you been feeling well?”

“Better than I have been, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Was that the reason why you didn’t come up at breakfast? Were you ill again?”

“If you must insist on being intrusive,” said Severus, snarling despite the tight hold on his tone. “Yes, I was. But as you can see, I am not an invalid. I am managing to eat what food I can. If you were expecting to find me sprawled out on the floor, I am terribly sorry to disappoint you.”

Remus shrugged his shoulders, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Well after what happened with the Seventh years last week, that concern isn’t exactly unwarranted. And you know that none of us would take that chance.”

“So I’ve been told, many times actually. Is that all you came down here for, to check up on my condition?”

“For the most part, yes,” said Remus, nodding his head.

“Then I see no reason for us to be talking.” Severus looked up and met his colleague’s eye line. “I will be polite this time, Lupin. Please turn yourself around, and get out of my office. We are not on break for that long, and I would prefer to be left alone. And even if I didn’t, I would much prefer someone else to you.”

Remus let out a hard breath and shifted his gaze to the side. He looked rather defeated as he slowly turned, grasped the door handle, and pulled. “You know, Severus,” he said. “I only volunteered to come down here because I was thinking of doing it anyway.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” said Severus. “Lupin, what does it take for you to understand that I don’t want to be coddled, pregnant or not?”

“I’m not trying to coddle you. I’m like everyone else; I worry about you these days. I’ve heard the first trimester can be rough, but I’ve never heard of a case of morning sickness like yours, at least not with the women I’ve known.”

“Oh yeah, Lupin? How many pregnant women have you been around in the last twenty years or so? Two, maybe three?”

Remus turned back to his former classmate, easing the door back closed. “Nymphadora didn’t have much trouble with nausea. She was mostly just emotional, though how could she not be with what was going on at the time? And…” He paused briefly, as though to formulate the remainder of his thought. “And other women I’ve come across over the years were only ill for a couple of weeks, nothing like what you’ve had. And after hearing about you passing out, I can’t help but be concerned for your wellbeing.”

“My wellbeing is no more your concern than anything else I put myself through,” said Severus. “Need I remind you that your job in this mess is to keep your eyes open to our surroundings? Dumbledore did put you up to it, so you had best keep to it and stop trying to beseech me for whatever it is that’s slaughtering your conscience.”

Suddenly, Remus slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Horrid frustration in his eye, he stepped forward. “That’s it, Severus! This has gone on long enough. I am done fighting with you.” Already, Severus felt his tension building up in his temples, and he gripped the arm of his seat. “If you don’t want a fight, you ought to –,”

“Mind my own business? Leave you alone? I hate to remind you, but as you already said, Albus put me up to this. Phasing out of your life completely would mean going back on my word. And what would happen if I did that, eh? Some psycho sympathizer of Voldemort’s could come looking for blood, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. You didn’t think of something like that, did you? Severus, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to your baby.”

Severus glared at him, his anger stifled by such a brash accusation. He didn’t think of something like that? So the mere fact that his pregnancy was the product of rape didn’t count. So what if Lupin didn’t actually know a damn thing about that? He had no right to assume that Severus thought himself invincible. “Oh yes, if something should happen to the baby!” he mocked as he rose to his feet. “The baby’s welfare is everything, I don’t matter at all.”

“It obviously matters enough to you that you’re now following Poppy’s orders.” Remus nodded his head at the cinnamon-dusted plate. “And how could you say something so absurd? Of course, you matter! Trust me, I wouldn’t bother with you if you didn’t.”

“You speak to me like I’m completely incompetent. I happen to think that if anything were to occur, I would be able to handle myself without such assistance. You are just extra security to soften people’s nerves.”

Now it was Remus’s turn to snarl. “Then what do you want me to say? That you can just fend for yourself? That it doesn’t matter if you end up the victim of yet another curse or worse? If that’s what you want, then fine! Let someone beat you to a bloody fucking pulp, see if I care!”

The werewolf ducked just in time to listen to Severus’s water-filled goblet crash against the wall. He straightened his angled body, pulse picking up, and looked up. The other wizard’s fists were clenching hard as he came around the desk. “Take that back!” growled Severus, jabbing a thin finger through the air in Remus’s direction. “Take that back right now, you bastard!”  

“What? Take what back?” Remus half-stammered, backing towards the wall.

“Just take it back!”

It wasn’t the anger in Severus’s face that frightened Remus, but rather the desperation buried in his voice. He had known the Potions master for the better part of three decades, and if he knew anything about Severus, it was that it took a lot to openly unnerve him. He had struck a nerve that Severus apparently wasn’t accustomed to addressing. “Alright, alright, I take it back. But can’t I at least ask what it was I said to upset you?”

“No, you can’t! Just stop prying into my life, please.”

“But Severus,” said Remus, taking a chance with a few cautious steps forward. “All I’ve ever tried to do this term is help you. But the way you shut me out, the way Albus won’t tell me anything, I feel so in the dark. Why must you do that? Why can’t you shed a little light on what’s been going on?”

“Because maybe I don’t want to delve into any of that,” Severus snapped. “Have _you_ ever considered _that_?”

Remus stopped in his track in the middle of the room. Severus let his eyes fall to the floor, and his intake of breath increased. His arm came across his abdomen, a pale hand gripping black fabric at his middle. Remus reached out to him. “Are you alright? Should I –,”

“Just shut up, you fool,” Severus practically begged, just hanging onto control. Just one little threat from an unknowing lycanthrope had sent those horrible memories rushing back into his head. How many weeks, how many months did it take for him to put that attack out of his mind?

Across the room, Remus was pondering what he was seeing before him. He didn’t mean the violent things he said. Why would that send an overly-battered man like Severus reeling? However, he hadn’t heard much of Severus during the summer after his Ministry pardon. Had he already encountered this supposed danger that Albus feared? Two and two came together, and Remus felt the air forced out of his lungs. “Good god, what’s happened to you?”

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.” Severus collapsed back down into his chair and cradled his head in his hands. “It’s not like you would understand anyway.”

“I could still try,” said Remus. He moved forward and dropped down into a wingchair. “Do you mean to say that Albus is not simply exaggerating? What was it? Were you threatened recently? Did one of those _Prophet_ nutters confront you over the summer?”

“Lupin, it’s not that simple,” said Severus, talking against the knot forming in his throat. “If anything, I wish it were.”

Remus struggled and pulled his chair closer to Severus’s desk. “Don’t tell me that someone hurt you.” The little glance he got from empty, onyx eyes before they darted back down to the wood floor was more an answer than words ever could have been. Remus suddenly felt what he thought was a quiet rage brewing in his gut. “Severus, who was it? What did they do to you?”

“I don’t know who he was,” said Severus. “He made damn sure his identity stayed hidden. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s long gone.”

“Was he one of Voldemort’s followers?” asked Remus, to which Severus sighed, “Yes, in some way he was. He certainly mentioned the Dark Lord enough to give that away.”

“Then you must have had a guess about who he was.”

“We don’t believe he was a Death Eater, but there are a large number of outside supporters that even I don’t know about. It’s them who are helping to fill Azkaban’s cellblocks so quickly.”

“I know, the way people keep coming out of the woodwork, it’s mad. But this man, what has he done to you? You look like he tried to kill you all over again.”

“I would have preferred it if he did,” Severus said as he turned his body to face the small, tiny window behind his seat. “At least then, I would have died with what was left of my dignity.”

Remus contorted his brow. “What? What do you mean?” Severus shifted again, so far that the other professor could no longer see the face hidden by lank, black hair. Remus waited, listening – hoping for an answer. But his heart crashed down into his stomach when he heard Severus’s low, quiet voice.

“Let’s just say that I am sure that the Dark Lord is not my child’s other father.”

And suddenly, it all made sense. Remus shook his head, letting his jaw drop open. Just grasping the concept of what he had just heard, he struggled to find words that could be of some comfort to the poor bloke. But what the hell could he say to something so degrading? “Oh my god…I am so sorry!”

“Sorry for what?” said Severus, looking over his shoulder at Remus. There was a certain mist in those deep holes that further saddened the DADA professor. “There was nothing that you, or I, or anyone could have done. All that remains is that it did happen, and nothing can change that.” Severus dabbed his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

“It’s okay to cry if you want to,” said Remus. “I won’t judge you.”

Severus, rather in spite of himself, sneered. “What kind of blubbering wreck do you take me for?”

“The same one that my mates used to call Snivellus.” Realizing that Remus would not be backing down, Severus pulled up to his desk and leaned on the surface. He hid his eyes behind his hand. Remus continued. “Well this certainly explains why you have been so touchy lately. Severus, if I had only known that you had been raped, I wouldn’t have been such a meddlesome prick.”

“You would have been a meddlesome prick anyway, like you are right now.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave this alone. Did you report this?”

“Have you gone deaf?” Severus asked, more like he was inquiring on Remus’s mental state. “I told you, he’s gone, without a trace, no witnesses.”

“What about a paternity test?” asked Remus. “Poppy could perform the spell for you.”

“There’s no point,” said Severus. And there really wasn’t. The most reliable time to perform a Paternal-detection Spell on an expectant parent’s unborn fetus was the fifth month and beyond. Poppy had reminded him of this during his first examination, but Severus had since contemplated whether or not he actually wanted to know his rapist’s identity. And so far, that wasn’t looking too good.

“Albus knows about it, doesn’t he?” asked Remus, catching the Potions master’s attention.

“He does, as does Minerva, and they’ve both been sworn to secrecy.”

The slightly stunned werewolf nodded. He didn’t know what else he could say without badgering Severus. “Oh Severus, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know about you or anyone else, but you have to be a raving madman to do that to someone. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve had to endure.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t understand,” Severus solemnly said. “You couldn’t understand any of the shit that I’ve been through.”

“Severus, I –,”

“No, don’t even start.” Now Severus sounded like he was just hanging on to his emotions. “Lupin, do you have even the slightest idea what I have had to live with? I was deprived in my youth; deprived of attention, of respect, of love. I hardly had anything to begin with, and whatever I did have, I lost to the Dark Lord. I helped ruin people’s lives, with no way out. I lost my freedom to that monster! And because of one bloody fucking mistake, I lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Lily…” Remus whispered.

“She was the one thing that kept me going. A life without her…it’s been unbearable at times. These eighteen years have been so bleak. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret what I’ve done, that I’m the reason she’s dead. And yet I have to live with it. As far as I’m concerned, I have nothing now. My dignity was all I had left, and my rapist took that with him.”

“You’ve been through a lot, I know,” said Remus, leaning forward to lean on his knee. “And I really am trying to be sensitive to everything you’ve endured. Honestly, you really are a stubborn bastard to trudge on through all that. But you are not the only man who has those sorts of problems. I didn’t come out of this war in one piece either. Every one of my dearest friends lost their lives fighting. Severus, I watched my wife die in battle! You think I don’t understand your feelings for Lily? I hardly knew what love was until I had Dora. She was one hell of a lady, and yet she had to be snatched right out from under me. I don’t know if I could see myself with anyone else now. My son is my entire world now, but I hardly get to see him because I have to make my living in order to provide for him. To this day, I question if I could really make it as a single father with a son who’s not even a year old. And all the while, I have to fathom the reality that I will have to leave Teddy every month to go through a horrendous transformation that he should _never_ have to know about. That is my reality! It’s definitely not the reality I would have liked, but I must carry on. The best I could do is to go about my daily life with as much optimism as I can, and yes, it has been exceedingly difficult at times. You’re going to think I’m insane, but I think you ought to be doing the same.”

“Oh yes, like I haven’t heard that one before,” Severus sighed. “Lupin –,”

“You know, it is legal to use my first name around here.” A sandy eyebrow cocked up at the disheartened Potions professor. Again, Severus sighed. “Very well…Remus, at this point, I don’t know if I can be optimistic. When I was young, I had the hope that life got better with age. I’m shy of forty now, and I’ve only gone from bad to worse.”

“I’m sure there were a few days in thirty-eight years that were somewhat good.”

“None I would care to mention,” Severus rolled his eyes. “And you are missing the point. I have never been happy with my life because there never was anything to be happy about. I never had anyone to live for, no one but Lily.”

“You do now,” said Remus. “You have your child. If that’s not something to live for, I don’t know what is.”

“As I have said to Albus, it was not supposed to happen like _this_.” Severus’s eyes briefly fell to his midsection before darting across the room, avoiding Remus. The other wizard offered up a weak smile. “Does it ever happen in the way we expect? My son wasn’t planned either, and yet Dora and I managed. Yes, I had a lot of trouble warming up to the idea, but now I look back on that and wonder what the hell I was thinking. That boy really is the best thing that could have happened to us.”

“But you heard what I said,” said Severus, his voice finally breaking as his fist clenched tightly. At this point, words were pouring out of his mouth before he had a chance to rethink what he was doing, especially given who was on the receiving end. But they were words that needed to be heard, and words that had taken weeks for Severus to work up the courage to say. “You heard how the baby was conceived. What if I look at this child and the only thing I can think of is what he did to me? What if that stops me from caring for it properly?” He paused, blinking away the glaze in his eyes. “What…what if I can’t love it?”

 Remus felt like he could have wept in his own sympathy. He had been so used to the sadistic Severus Snape for far too long, to see the man so lost and vulnerable was utterly heartbreaking. Whoever the spineless bastard who raped Severus was, he now had a big, bold target directly in the center of his back. _‘He’d better pray that I never get my hands on him. He’d better hope it’s not a full moon either.’_

“Oh Severus,” Remus softly said. “I don’t know how you could ever think such a thing. Of course you can love your baby. I know it’s difficult to comprehend now. Take my word for it, I had the same apprehensions before I saw that lycanthropy can’t be passed on before birth. But once you see that little face, all of that suddenly goes away. This is your child, your son or daughter. And he or she will have no reason to not love you back. You won’t be Severus Snape the ex-Death-Eater. You’ll just be Daddy. Nothing, I say _nothing_ will matter compared to that.”

Severus massaged away the tight pain in his head, taking in what Remus was trying to say. It all sounded well and good, what would be one father to another. But it was just words. The only person who could determine the outcome was Severus himself. No matter how many times someone told him there was instant love the moment you set your eyes on a newborn baby, it still sounded very dubious. Not every one of the thousands of babies to come into the world daily was the result of undying love, and his was on the far end of the spectrum. How could he love the offspring of someone so wicked, so cruel?

Remus got to his feet, but stayed close to Severus’s desk. “Just so you know, your secrets are safe with me. However, if you do ever find out who the father of the baby is, I want to know his name so I can hunt him down and give him a piece of my mind.”

“No one needs to fight my battles for me,” said Severus. “Besides, I’m sure Albus already has plans to hex the bastard into next year.” Remus chuckled under his breath, and much to his relief, Severus cracked a very small smile.

“See, it’s not all bad. Severus, might I ask just one favor?” Severus nodded to Remus’s question. “Could you let me in a little more? I knew this experience was difficult for you, but I never thought of anything like this. I hate seeing you this miserable. I want to do whatever it is I can to make the next few months a little bit easier. Whatever it is you need, I’ll be there. I’d even agree to install a Floo connection between our fireplaces so I could – I don’t know – answer your cravings in the middle of the night. I mean it, I will get up out of bed if I have to! You have my promise.”

Severus was confused, not aggravated as he should have been by the other wizard’s shameless groveling. “Remus…why must you try so hard to be my friend?”

“Because even when we were kids, I didn’t think you were such a bad guy.” Remus crossed the room to retrieve Severus’s goblet. He set it down on the desktop and filled it again with a silent charm. “You’re a very respectable wizard who hardly gets the credit he deserves. I’m just trying to give that to you. Someone has to prove those _Prophet_ editorials wrong, don’t they? And really, if I were in your place right now, I think I would need a friend more than anything else.”

Somewhere deep inside, Severus fought back the realization that the mangy mutt might have been right. For months, he had told himself that he would be better off if he kept to himself. He imagined that this would save him hassle and frustration that a post-war reputation (as well as a sudden and unplanned pregnancy) would bring. He hardly imagined that what he would end up with was a group of people rallying around him, vowing to stand by with him with whatever they had. Just when he had convinced himself that he could live with a distinct lack of support! He could feel a knot forming in his throat at the idea, which he tried to fight off with a few good breaths.

Where was Rose Beckett when he needed her?

“I can’t say that I can guarantee anything,” he said. It was a reasonable statement for Severus. This was still Remus Lupin he was talking to.

“With what you’ve gone through, I’d be surprised of you could,” said Remus. “I’m willing to go at your pace, Severus. All I hope for is that we could finally have a decent working relationship, maybe more. It would be nice for Teddy to have a little playmate when he’s a bit bigger.” He looked down at his left wrist to stare into his watch. “I’d best be off, break is almost over. I’ll leave you to your work.” The DADA professor made a quick move for the door, but he stopped just short of his target. “Oh! What should I tell Albus and Minerva?”

Severus thought for a stretched out minute before locking eyes with Remus. “Just tell them that I’ll be up there at lunchtime.” The werewolf smiled at the dark haired wizard before leaving him alone again. Severus sighed, feeling drained and empty. Again he looked down at his abdomen, where his unborn child still rested unnoticed. If he was going to get used to constantly having people in his life, he might as well start now.

**~HP~**

Rose huffed as she descended yet another flight of steps, dodging the occasional student as she went along. That afternoon, she had nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to follow. Harry had long since adjourned to their common room to write a long, drawn out letter to Ginny, possibly to be followed by a short nap. He and Rose had been up late the night before, stuck in a Transfiguration essay writing marathon, leaving him a little lethargic. Ron and Hermione meanwhile had disappeared into the library. They had said it was to read up on Security wards for Charms class. Rose didn’t believe them for a second. She knew they were escaping to get some privacy; they were probably snogging at that very moment, hidden behind shelves. And since Lavender and Parvati had both disappeared so quickly after Divinations let out for the day, Rose could only assume what they were up to.

So Rose had to surrender to this state of desertion. Her younger self might have been greatly annoyed by this, especially in her precious afternoons. But she had predicted in the days leading up to the beginning of that term that this would happen eventually, given her particular post-battle situation. She was used to being on her own in her Muggle life, so why should she fret about it now? Besides, she needed the time and solitude to walk off what she was pondering.

The pull towards Snape was becoming incredibly hard to ignore. Each time he stepped into the room, Rose’s eyes immediately snapped in his direction. And since their little encounter outside the staffroom the other night, Rose almost craved his attention. That, being something that would have nauseated her mere months before, left Rose nothing short of puzzled. Even that day, she was more attentive in Potions than she had been in Muggle Studies. Quirky, exhilarating Professor Wicker against vile, sneering Professor Snape. There should be no comparison, and there wasn’t in some twisted way. She was more content with brewing a Fire-protection Potion than winning a raucous debate on Muggle tax systems. It probably had something to do with how she felt when she was around Snape. Something in his demeanor had a profound effect on her stress levels. Whatever knots she had managed to tie herself up in were undone by the low drawl of his voice. And not to mention that compared to some of her friends, Rose got way more out of talking to Snape about anything really. Somehow, being one of the first to answer a few questions in class just wasn’t the same.

She missed the attention time her detentions provided.

But there was her dilemma. She wished to have more access to her professor, the way the Slytherin students did. But a plethora of reasons that common sense produced stopped any thought of action. Snape would never openly associate with a Gryffindor at his own free will. Bias and reputation would not allow it. The only thing that probably made those open conversations possible was her promise to keep her mouth shut. Snape probably wouldn’t open up in the same way. He might have thought that he had said too much, didn’t want to go any further. And above all, Rose did not want to be a burden. Snape had looked better that week, but who could ever really tell when something wasn’t right with that man? Excuse after excuse after excuse, but Rose felt more like she was trying to fight an animal instinct. There had to be something she could do!

Rose was stuck on a changing set of stairs when from an open archway below she heard that all-too-familiar shrill of a voice. “Did you see the look on that Hufflepuff’s face?!” It was frankly astounding how loud Parkinson could get when she was cocky.

Suddenly, Rose got an idea, one of those ideas that felt more like getting hit by lightning. She couldn’t walk right up to Snape and ask for his time, but there was one other way. It was foolish, maybe even downright stupid, but it sounded like a practical way to achieve her goal. She would have to get herself into trouble again to get back through Snape’s door. For once in her life, Pansy Parkinson might actually be put to good use.

She stepped off on what she realized was the first floor and peered through the entrance to the east corridor. Down a ways, Pansy was wrapping herself in Malfoy’s arms as they stood by a large window together. They were joined by the ever-present Goyle, as well as the sizable Millicent Bulstrode and a rather blasé-looking Blaise Zabini. Parkinson was obviously bragging about her latest conquest in bullying, if Bulstrode’s dozy laughter was any indication.

“It was too easy. I mean, all I had to say was that she was too young to be so porky. The wimpy brat burst out sobbing before I could take a breath! Why can’t they all be that simple? It’d make my day so much easier.”

“Well maybe some of us don’t give in so easily!” Parkinson turned sharply to glare at Rose, who leaned on the archway with her hands in her robe pockets and a leg crossed over to perch on her toes. Slytherin’s alpha-female hissed. “Well look what the cat dragged in, Barmy Beckett.”

Rose took a short breath, summoning all the brashness in her being. “Hey there, Parkinson! Corner another First year?”

“What’s it to you if I did?” Pansy snarled as she untangled herself from Malfoy. “The whelp wasn’t even from your house.”

“Does it matter?” Rose asked with a smirk. “I still don’t know what gets you off in making fun of children. They’re just First years for Prospero’s sake!”

“They deserve it, they always do. They deserve it just as much as you do, Beckett.”

“Why, because we’re not perfect?” Rose started to take a few steps forward, toward the band of snakes. “Because you are? Really, how low can you go to make fun of a girl’s weight?”

“Oh-ho Beckett, you’ve seen that Waxel girl. A lump of lard if I ever saw one!”

“Oh yes, so pick on the poor girl for something she can’t control, like the way you made fun of me for being ginger!”

Pansy stepped back, the smuggest, nastiest sneer across her mouth. “Even you must know how disgusting that color is. Must have gotten it from dear Muggle Mummy!” Rose took a sharp breath in before composing herself and slipping into a sneer of her own. There was no going back after this. “Well one, my mother’s brunette. And two, I happen to think I look fantastic. We’re both girls, Parkinson. We know we can’t blame others for our flaws. It’s not my fault that you’ve got a little extra on your waist.” She started back down the hall.

“What?!” asked Pansy, both disgusted and horrified at the same time. Rose sniggered as she turned away. Hook! “Oh don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed! My mum’s got less cellulite on her thighs!”

“Cellulite? What the hell are you saying, Beckett?!”

“I’m saying that maybe you should lay off the snicker-doodles for a while.” The few students who were moseying around their general space giggled behind their hands. A few steps in front of Rose, Dean and Seamus whooped their support. Pansy’s lips melted into the rest of her face while her cheeks flushed red.

“You little –!” she bit out, and Rose grinned. Line! “Draco, say something!”

“I – uh – um,” she heard Malfoy stammer. Rose whipped her head around to look over her shoulder. “What’s the matter, Malfoy? Cat got your tongue?”

“Don’t even try, Beckett,” Malfoy threatened, his voice grinding against his Adam’s apple.

“Fair enough,” said Rose. “Not my problem that you prefer the company of would-be whiney, podgy spinsters. Could have something like this, but that’s your choice!” For a little added emphasis, Rose popped out her right knee, cocked her hip, and shook her behind at her detestable classmates. Laughs and calls filled the air.

“Oh, you think you’re so hot!” Pansy barked out loud. Her face had gone white with rage. “Someone’s obviously kissing your pasty white arse!”

Sinker! Rose suddenly felt that angry burn in her gut. She turned slowly around, ignoring the eager look Seamus’s face and Dean’s silent groan. “Kissing my arse, huh? Funny you should say that. Isn’t that what you do to Professor Snape on a daily basis?”

“Shut the hell up!” Pansy charged forward before Malfoy could get a grip on her arm. She stopped two feet from Rose. “You have some nerve, you bitch. I don’t know who told you that you’re so gorgeous, but they’re lying to you. I’ve seen prostitutes more attractive than you are. I don’t know one man dumb enough to want you.”

“At least I don’t have to terrorize my way to the top, you mingy tart!”

“And you’re a useless dog! You wouldn’t know attractive people if they ran right into you.”

Rose sneered, squinting her eyes. “I’ll bet Draco’s heard that one.”

Snarling, Pansy lashed out and shoved Rose’s shoulders back hard. The Gryffindor stumbled, but stayed on her feet. She sensed the male excitement in the air, and she noticed all the boys around them gearing up for a good fight, but kept her eyes locked on her Slytherin nemesis. Ferocity rushed through her body. “Don’t push me!” she shouted and shoved Pansy right back.

“Sod off, I’ll do what I want!”

“You’re crazy!” And Rose meant it too. She didn’t set out to get into another brawl. Carefully, she attempted to step back to the archway from where she came.

“And you’re a brainless bitch!” Pansy forced Rose back again. But before she could go through the arch and over the stair ledge, Rose’s back bumped hard into something and she heard a low, “ _Oof.”_ She felt hands grasping her shoulders. Pansy gasped and covered her mouth. The noise also suddenly dissipated. Judging on that, Rose thought, she must have hit a teacher’s chest…a male teacher. Reluctantly, she looked down to examine the black-cuffed hands. She spun around to look up at the face of a very miffed Professor Snape, her breath suddenly shallow pants. _‘Oh yeah, of course he has to show up now!’_ she thought.

She tried to speak, but Snape stopped her with a tense, thin finger. He took a brief moment to straighten his frock coat before he spoke. “I’m addressing you both when I say this,” he said. “This is now getting to be utterly ridiculous! I can’t turn my back on you for one moment! Eighteen years old, you ought to grow up one of these days.”

“It wasn’t my fault, Professor,” Pansy pleaded. “Beckett just came out of nowhere and started riling me.”

That’s right, Rose thought. Blame her for it all, like always. She waited a few seconds before offering her rebuttal. “I didn’t lay a hand on her until she shoved me.”

Snape rolled his black eyes, growling in his throat. He was obviously in no mood to hear that argument for the umpteenth time. He looked around to see that his presence had caused the small crowd of children to scatter, except for two. “Finnigan, Thomas, did you see what happened?”

“Yes sir,” said Seamus, caught between the disappointment of missing out on a good girl fight, and the intimidation of Snape’s authority.

“Then you can tell me who started this.” At first, both the Gryffindor boys were silent, eying their female comrade with a look of _we’re-behind-you-Rose._ Snape however did not have the patience for any of that. “Be forewarned that any hindrance will earn both of you Ds on every assignment for the remainder of the calendar year.” Apparently, that was enough of a threat. Dean nodded his head in Rose’s direction, while Seamus pointed his finger directly at her. Though she subliminally wanted this, Rose groaned at them. Some friends they were!

“Thank you gentlemen, now kindly return to your business.” Dean and Seamus decided it was best to obey Snape and took off up the stairs. The Potions master then turned back to the girls. “Twenty points will be taken from both of your houses, and since your housemates were so kind to give you up, Miss Beckett, you will be serving detention tonight.” He seemed to say this with somewhat of a smirk. “I will expect you in my office at seven-thirty sharp. Now all of you go back to your common rooms. Don’t look at me like that, Goyle. That goes for you too.”

Snape then stepped to the side and pointed up the stairs. He stared at Rose, jerking his head in the same direction. Letting go of a sigh, Rose followed the unspoken order and started back up the stairs. She listened for any further Parkinson scolding, but heard nothing. Snape must have continued on his way.

So that was that. She had achieved her strange (and probably very pathetic) goal. Now that it was all said and done, Rose was left with that weird sinking feeling in her stomach, and that familiar flush in her pale, freckled cheeks. Even when it was on purpose, it didn’t feel too good to get in trouble.


	27. The breaking of tradition

It was incredibly lucky that Severus had a new barrel of Flobberworms in the corner of his classroom that needed disemboweling. Otherwise, he would have had nothing to demand of Rose when she showed up that night. He worried slightly that she would be maddened by yet another disgusting chore, but common sense reminded him that she would do it either way. It was probably a wise choice of action anyway. She _did_ say that she would stay away from Parkinson.

Of course, he had been all too happy to saddle Rose with detention for just one more night. It was the perfect chance to bring himself closer to her. Admiring her loveliness from across a crowded hall was alright, but it barely compared to actually having her there with him in the quiet darkness of his dungeon dwellings. Dumbledore had long had a belief in opportunity-grasping. It only seemed right that Severus take a little advice from his wise old headmaster.

“If I may ask, Professor,” said Rose, bringing her upper body up and out of the barrel. She had green slime smeared over her arms, as well as across her forehead and in the tips of her ribboned ponytail. “What are these Flobberworms for? There’s still some mucus left over from the last time batch I gutted in the student stores.”

“If you have to know, they are for the Second years,” Severus explained from behind his desk. In between sentences, he would break off a square of the chocolate bar he had set out in front of him. “They will be brewing Sleeping Draughts in the coming days, and I have a strong suspicion that this lesson will require an abundance of supplies.” Rose glanced upward with a smirk, squeezing the worm in her hands over a large jar sitting at the edge of her professor’s desk, the fourth one that night.

“Really…Sleeping Draughts…they’re that bad, huh?”

Severus smirked at how quickly Rose had recalled how easy that potion was for her to brew at that young age. “They don’t have the capacity to brew iced tea, let alone the potions that I have to teach them.”

“But that doesn’t seem like they’re really learning. I don’t mean to criticize your teachings, but why do I have to squeeze out the mucus? Why can’t they just do it themselves?”

Severus raised his eyebrows. “Because as you know, they will likely end up depending on pre-made ingredients for most of their lives. It’s an unsavory thought, I know, but that’s reality.”

“But what good is potion-making if you don’t have to produce a fair amount of the ingredients yourself?”

“Miss Beckett, I don’t even do that. I don’t think I’ve heard of a single living wizard who does.”

“Sorry Professor,” Rose laughed. “To me, that’s losing a little something in the process.”

“Then open an apothecary,” said Severus. “Merlin knows that you could handle it. It would surely be easier work than Muggle Relations. And as for the Second years, I wouldn’t be able to trust any of them with the task anyway. I tell you, Miss Beckett. It is children like that who make people like you and Granger seem more appealing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Rose. “We’re good at the craft, but the fact that we’re a little bold takes away from that?”

“You’re more than a little bold,” Severus suggested with a cock in his dark brow. “And you are one to talk, considering how you ended up down here yet again.”

“In my defense, I was trying to defend a First year.”

“Really, you have a strange way of going about that.”

Rose sighed, walking back over to the barrel and staring down into it. “She told you what I said, didn’t she?”

“Parkinson wouldn’t let it go until I let her finish the story. It is my understanding that you called her fat, and for no reason.”

“I don’t think I ever actually called her _fat_ ,” said Rose, her tone tightening to show her seriousness. “And the way she was talking about that poor girl, I thought she deserved a taste of her own medicine.”

“Very brash, Beckett. For someone of your usual nature, a lot of people would see that behavior to be rather unbecoming, myself included.”

Rose reached down into the wood basin and came up with a handful of the dead, slimy creatures. “Brash, bold, call it what you want. I can’t really help it sometimes. Hey, I would do the same for you if Parkinson were parading around calling you fat.”

Good God, did she have to say that? Severus had to work rather hard to keep a straight face in the presence of his pupil, though it didn’t help the fact that his condition was at the forefront of thought since his conversation with Lupin that morning. He tried to focus on the smile that Rose was offering him, and the giggle that came with it. She wouldn’t be laughing if she knew that she could end up doing just that in a matter of weeks.

But at least she would do it.

“Not that either of us would have any reason to do that, of course,” Rose continued, swatting at the air. She seemed to be gesturing to his thin frame. Severus rolled his eyes, carefully placing a bit of chocolate in his mouth.

_‘You have no idea, you sweet girl…oh god, do you have to smile like that?’_ Breathing away the flutters, Severus shook his head, thinking up a response that he could actually say to Rose. “Must you always strive to be the righteous one in these petty matters?”

“You could say that, though I don’t see it that way. Even if I did, I can’t help that either.”

“Some might argue that it’s what makes you a Gryffindor,” said Severus. Rose looked at him for a split second, almost pondering the idea, before nodding with a smile.

A long, stretched-out moment followed, a moment that Severus used to take in Rose’s quiet beauty. Even covered in that nasty stuff, and very likely smelling of it, she still managed to look so lovely. The absence of her robe, jumper, and tie allowed him to see just how superb her figure was; slender, but not dangerously so. She looked quite healthy compared to his state of emaciation. That uniform also hid a fine set of hips. Already, Severus could feel the room getting warmer, so he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, which mostly ended up being his chocolate bar. What drew his attention back was when he noticed Rose out of the corner of his eye. Her beautiful blues looked to be repeatedly fluttering between him and the jar in front of her.

“What?” he asked calmly.

“Oh – um – nothing,” Rose stammered, rather unusually. “I…um, I just had a thought.”

“And what was that?”

“Was there ever really a time when you thought I shouldn’t be in Gryffindor?”

Both of the Potions master’s eyebrows jerked up. That was certainly unexpected. It had been quite a long time since a student had come to Severus with that inquiry, and of all of those few times, the insecure child was never from outside his own house. “Why do you want to know?”

“You said a few weeks ago that you thought I should have been in Slytherin. Did you really mean that?”

It took a while for Severus to figure out what Rose was talking about. But soon enough, after a fair bit of intense thought, he remembered that ill-fated day back in September, and the rage-filled slip of the tongue before Minerva’s desk. “I did say that, didn’t I? If you’re talking about the day that you stormed out of my class, it was mostly because I was angry with you.”

“But the way you said it suggested that there was more to it,” Rose said as she hoisted herself up onto a desk to take a break. “Please tell me, Professor. Do you really think that?”

Severus leaned into the back of his chair and sighed out a long breath. “There were a few days in past years where I had my doubts about you. But every time that happened, the Gryffindor in you overrode them. Why suddenly brings this to mind? Your house placement has never seemed to bother you before.”

“It doesn’t usually,” said Rose. “But with a background like mine, I can’t help but wonder. When you’re a Gryffindor and you have family who were in Slytherin, people tend to make the comparison.” Severus listened with curious interest. Now here was a girl who would enjoy a casual chat with the late Sirius Black.

“People compare you to your father?” he asked, a bit delicately.

“Yeah, they do,” Rose leaned back, propping up her body with her arms. “Half the time, I don’t think they realize that they’re doing it. It still drives me mad, though. I don’t care who you are, I am nothing like that man.”

“So you say.”

Severus wasn’t totally sure where those words came from, if not from some primal instinct to contradict. Rose however was quick to respond, and she said, “So I say because it’s true! He’s a pathetic waste of space! And believe me Professor, I _definitely_ strive to be better than that.”

And evidently, she tried a little too hard sometimes. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be getting worked up at the idea. Severus wondered just how many people expected her to be a little female Alistair, who then found themselves unable to keep quiet when she turned out not to be. He also felt guilty that he had once been one of them. “Listen Beckett, I have known both you and your father for several years. It is safe to say that you have set yourself apart from him. But no matter what you do, people will talk. Children have been compared to their parents since the dawn of time.”

“Yes, but fathers didn’t always have the complete freedom to up and leave,” Rose sneered, enough to give Severus himself a run for his gold. “Now that I think of it, you’ve said that I was like him.”

Oh, so she remembered that too.

“If I did, it was only intended as a threat,” said Severus, slightly twisting the truth. He was caught between his admiration for Rose’s exceptional memory, and the embarrassment for indeed having said such a thing, under duress or not. Rose’s brow scrunched up above her frown. “Why don’t I believe you?” That caused Severus to also frown. He sunk back into his seat. “I suppose you have enough reason not to.”

Rose’s harsh features softened when she heard the tone of Severus’s low voice. “I…I didn’t mean any harm by that.”

“I wish I could have thought the same when I made those comments. It was an observation. I didn’t know it actually bothered you.”

“You didn’t know or you didn’t care?” asked Rose. She was calm, though that did not disguise the challenge in the inquiry. Severus swallowed hard, running his fingers through his oily hair. He could feel his face flushing slightly as his stomach dropped. “Well, you certainly didn’t give any indication that it mattered to you.”

“I thought it didn’t, Professor. I was always pretty secure in my house placement. It’s only been in the last few years that it started to…to eat at me. You-know-who didn’t do a thing for the reputation of Slytherin or anyone that’s ever been in it.”

“Alistair must have had a distinctly different take on that,” said Severus.

“Him and plenty of others, as I’m sure you know.” Rose raised her fair eyebrows in her own sarcasm. “Merlin, you would think that it’s a sin to end up in another house after that kind of family history.”

“That is the mentality of war,” Severus explained. “The Dark Lord’s followers needed someone to call an enemy, and Gryffindors have always been an obvious target for those like them.”

“Don’t you dare say anything about Harry,” Rose warned, the corner of her mouth tweaking up. Severus shook his head with a smirk of his own. “As if Potter has anything to do with it. Slytherin and Gryffindor have been going at it for centuries, and they will continue that petty nonsense for centuries to come.”

“For petty nonsense, you don’t do much to stop it.”

Severus held up a hand, effectively silencing Rose. Regardless of his feelings for her, he didn’t want to hear about how his handlings of the Slytherins were wrong. “I never said I was proud of that. And even so, you are in no position to criticize me to my face on my teaching practices. You are a mature young lady, but you are still my student.”

“I suppose you can’t really argue with that,” said Rose with a sigh. She slid off the desktop and once again approached the barrel. The upper half of her body sunk in down to her waist. “I’m curious,” her voice echoed out. “What do you think of me now?”

Severus’s face tensed straight as his eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, trying to keep a firm control over his voice.

“What do you think of me at eighteen, now that I’m grown? Do you think the Sorting Hat was right to place me in Gryffindor?”

Severus thought for a moment or two. She was practically pleading for his honest opinion, and it would probably be more obvious if he could see her face. Opportunity calls! “In all honesty, I have to say it was. It was not so obvious when you were young, hence why I doubted you. But you certainly have grown into your own. I don’t have much reason at all to question you today.”

“Except for the little spot on my record that is my dad,” Rose added with a distinct snicker. She came back up with both hands full of Flobberworms.

“That is only relevant to those who know who your father is. Otherwise, you are your own person.”

“It’s a bit difficult to carry myself as such when nearly everyone has read about him in the papers. It’s worse when those articles happen to mention that Alistair Beckett has a school-aged daughter called Rosella. You know Professor, when you have a parent who’s in prison, _people tend to look at you differently_.”

“I know, Miss Beckett,” Severus droned, questioning if Rose briefly forgot just who she was talking to. If anyone knew about reputations and prison, it was him. “But even if they really knew the man, they would see that he has nothing to do with you. If anything, they would see that you are more accomplished than he was at your age. Not to mention that your Gryffindor traits happen to be some of your better qualities.”

Rose lightly bopped her head from side to side with a grin that just hollered out, _‘Ha-ha.’_ She continued on squeezing worms at a much livelier pace, more like she was in her kitchen squeezing lemons for a strong cocktail. Every now and then, she would glance up at Severus from the side, making brief eye contact. And each time was just as warm and welcoming as the last. Severus let his entire body relax, giving into the flutters in his stomach. Whenever Rose wasn’t looking, the infatuated wizard betrayed himself with a small smile.

“Might I ask, Miss Beckett,” he quietly said. “What reason would you have to second-guess yourself, if not because of other people’s gossiping?”

“I don’t know,” said Rose, rather languidly. “I guess I’ve just noticed some things about myself, that I do differ from my housemates in some ways.”

“So I have noticed. You are not the overly stereotypical Gryffindor, if there is such a thing. You cannot deny that.”

Rose sighed, tucking a loose strand of goo-smeared hair behind her ear. “If I did, I would be a hypocrite.”

“That you would.” Severus got to his feet and walked around his desk. He took hold of the filled, sealed jars and proceeded to store them away in a nearby cabinet. “Out of curiosity, what do you think sets you apart from the rest of Potter’s entourage?”

“I could come up with a list of things that make me different from Harry.”

“Like how, with a few exceptions, you are not as reckless as Boy-Wonder?” Severus suggested.

“No, it’s not that, Professor.” Rose shook her head, her pretty face falling into a small frown. “It’s just that…when you look at someone like Harry…or Hermione…you sometimes feel less than adequate standing beside them.”

“In what way?”

“I…” The young woman hesitated, turning her face away from Severus and down to the stone floor. The color in her cheeks started to fade. “I don’t feel that I’m always as brave as they are. Okay?”

Severus scoffed at Rose’s statement. He walked over to her and leaned up against his desk. “Miss Beckett, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Think about it,” Rose began. “I’ve wanted to live up to my house’s reputation, but there always seems to be something that gets in my way. I wanted to help out Hermione’s little House-elf group – I don’t know if you ever heard about that, it was a cute idea – but I was afraid that people would make fun of me. Remember Dumbledore’s Army? Harry invited me to join. I said no for fear of what would happen, what did happen! Dolores Umbridge scarred me once, I didn’t want it to happen again. Harry, he’s stared death in the face more times than I can imagine, and willingly too. I’ve only faced it once, and it was right along with everyone else, fighting for this castle. I could go on for days about how I have trailed behind everyone else through the years.”

“Are you suggesting that you think yourself coward?” asked Severus, cocking his ebony brow. She couldn’t possibly think that. If that were true, he would have been the first to inform her. And with his very personal disdain for the word, he would go to some lengths to avoid using it. Rose turned her head back to him with a dubious look in her blue eyes. “I don’t know if I would say coward, but probably something like it.”

Blasphemy, Severus thought! How could Rose think so lowly of herself when she had proven herself to be quite different on multiple occasions? Who would be so kind as to reinforce such a deep, house-based insecurity? In his head, Severus was going down the list of Slytherin names to find a plausible suspect. Parkinson was obvious, but this also seemed to reek with the stench of Malfoy. Slowly, he shook his head and smirked at his lovely student. “You underestimate yourself, Beckett. Do you know that?”

“Do I?” asked Rose, almost in a perplexed sort of way.

“Yes,” Severus glanced down at the jar on his desk. “You can stop now, that’s enough mucus.” He waited for Rose to dispose of the deflated worm remains and go over to the sink to wash away the mess on her hands before continuing. “Alright, so no one has ever called on you to take on a maniacal dark wizard with no backup. But last I checked, that was not the definition of the word courage. Anyone who believes that is incredibly single-minded to put it lightly. From what you tell me, it just seems that you are a bit more cautious in what you do.”

“I agree with you, but not everyone sees it that way.” Rose walked back over, wiping her hands with a clean hand towel. Again, she hoisted herself up on a desk to face the Potions master.

“If you are talking about who I think you are, ignore them because they have no real base to their criticism.”

Rose wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?” she asked, setting the towel to the side. Severus looked at her for a short moment, but he then made a slow slashing gesture across his pale forehead. At first, Rose was confused as to what he was doing. She quickly figured that out when she touched her own forehead to find more congealed slime. She reached for the towel to wipe it away, forcing a little giggle to distract Snape from the pink staining her cheeks.

“Your father didn’t have much in the way of bravado in his day,” said Severus. “I remember him from our school days. Some people accuse you of being weak, _he was weak._ Spineless and nothing could have persuaded him to change. I will say this, Miss Beckett. If the two of you are alike in any way, it’s in your stubbornness. But still, you are more admirable in that approach. I haven’t met many men who could be so cowardly and yet so shameless about it.”

“Oh, I know,” Rose nodded, bitterly. Severus looked into her face, just hearing her heated thoughts. _‘Only a coward would leave his child behind.’_

“Needless to say, it is easy to see why people would want to make the connection. Even I have to admit to it. However, all I have seen from you is the act of proceeding with caution, something your family name has not been known for. To me, you have shown to be decent just by thinking before you act…well, most of the time.”

Rose laughed, playfully swiping the air. “Hey!”

“You have had your moments, Beckett. Remember, you did almost mutilate Weasley’s hand. It’s those fleeting bouts of foolishness that assure me that you were properly placed.” The professor and the student laughed together, tickled by the same ridiculous notion. But in time, the chuckles faded to sighs, and Rose simply gazed at Severus with a smile. The Potions master felt his insides shudder at the sight, but he quickly regained his senses. He casually ran his hand through his hair. “Take it from me. Bravery has a way of manifesting itself in vastly different ways. And as much as you try and discredit yourself, I do see it in you.”

Rose paused, contemplating what she heard. She almost didn’t want to believe it, but the calm in Snape’s manner spoke levels to her. She sensed honesty in his words. She knew she definitely wanted it when she didn’t fight this punishment, but some stubborn bit of her brain worked to try and convince her that she wouldn’t see it again. Then again, he wasn’t kidding. If anyone knew a damn thing about bravery, it was him. “Of all people I would think to say that, you were the last.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that _no one_ at all has ever made that observation before,” said Severus, shaking his head slightly.

“Well – uh – recently or –?”

“Let me rephrase that,” Severus interrupted. “Has anyone ever openly called you a coward?”

Again, Rose paused and thought back over the years, and the dozens of faces she had been met with. Like anyone, she had been called a great number of things, good or bad. But… “No.”

“Then you have no reason to think that of yourself. You are a bold girl, no one can deny that. That means you have nerve, and that means you have more than a little courage. If you need any more convincing, I could pick out a few things for you. For one, as you have said, you professed your favor for Muggle Studies in an increasingly hostile environment. And not once did you think to change your mind. And Merlin help me when I say this… it takes a lot to stand up to me in the way that you did last month. I know myself, and I know what I can do. You had to have known what you were getting into.”

Rose rolled her eyes, giggling under her breath. “So I stood up to a former Death Eater once thought to be a cold-blooded killer,” she said sarcastically. “It kind of loses something when one finds out that you’re not supposed to hurt any of us, by oath of the headmaster.”

“But I doubt it would have scared you off if that order did not exist. Am I right?” asked Snape, cocking his head in her direction. Rose seemed to think about that for a moment before shutting her eyes and shaking her head with a smirk. “And as far as the last year is concerned, you always had the choice to stand aside. But I know for a fact that you did not. Your conscience would not have allowed it. Don’t tell me that you don’t remember those times that you put yourself in harm’s way to help other students. You ended up in more trouble last year than in the previous six years. With someone as relatively well-behaved as yourself, it wouldn’t have made sense if it was not intentional. And it wasn’t just you; it was those friends of yours. It seems that they were rather inspired by your actions, the way they followed you into the madness.”

“It wasn’t me alone, it was all four of us acting together.”

“Someone had to have done some persistent sweet-talking for Natasha Moschovitz to step out of line. It would not surprise me a bit if that was you.” He would be surprised then, Rose thought to herself, since it wasn’t totally her doing. A certain someone had quite a lot to do with it as well, the memory of it being enough to pull her heart down out of her chest. But her admiration for Snape kept her from dwelling on that in the way that she had been. He didn’t need to know how touchy a subject the war was for her, or that she still struggled with its aftermath.

The Potions master continued. “It says a lot about you to have three people of completely different backgrounds doing what I would usually expect of a Gryffindor. You know, Professor McGonagall has said that what you four did was remarkable. Four friends, four houses, all coming together. She could not have been prouder when she heard about that. You might not have been as much of a nuisance as Longbottom’s band of rebels –,”

“Dumbledore’s Army, you mean,” Rose automatically corrected. Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling, like the name nauseated him. “The fact remains; you did decide to do it. And not only that, you also stayed behind to fight in that battle. I know of plenty of others who could never have done that. Miss Beckett, it is obvious that you can hold your own, and have for quite a few years. You should never feel that you have to prove yourself. So just put this out of your mind before you make more of a fool of yourself. Honestly, it’s your pride that brings out the character that your little friends seem to find so appealing. For their sake, leave it that way.” And for his sake too, Severus thought to himself.

Rose bit her bottom lip, sighing through her teeth. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she took in the sight of a relaxed Snape. There was something odd about it, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She then shook her head and smiled brightly. “I suppose I can take your word for it,” she said in a low voice. She suddenly seemed to perk up as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “If a Slytherin tells me I’m wrong, then I must be way off.” Her eyes sparkled with the candles, and Severus felt his heart flip. It was when she held her head high that she truly shined.


	28. What was always there

For several days, the world seemed to take a turn into a whole new realm of weird for Rose. If Snape wasn’t at the forefront of her thoughts before, he certainly was now. To take on her childish insecurities and then discredit them, to enforce her place as a Gryffindor, it was more than she could have ever asked of him. It was one of her personal lows, and he brought her back up. And as crazy as it sounded, it didn’t sound forced. Snape said those things for the same reason he said anything; he wanted to. _How-strange_ was the endless refrain in Rose’s head. She got more support from a Slytherin than from more than a few of her own housemates. The only thing she thought to be stranger was the way that Snape totally conquered her attention.

His mere presence was enough to relax her. In fact, something about him stirred up an odd excitement whenever he was around. Perhaps it was his voice. That deep, intonating drawl had a way of soothing away any stress that Rose had. So much so that she considered sitting further down the Gryffindor table on the off chance of overhearing conversations at the Head table. Or maybe it was just what the Potions master had to say. He was a fiendishly intelligent man who could make anything sound eloquent. Whatever it was, it was a great feeling, and Rose did whatever she could to keep it going. It brightened her mood, gave her something to look forward to. And with the hard times that had recently weighed her down, after losing the man nearest and dearest to her heart, Rose felt that she needed that more than Hermione’s well-meant small talks.

Now if only there was a better way of coming about that than drastically altering her behavior.

One week, she did what she could to stay out of trouble, careful not to touch any school rules. The next, she was deliberately walking around, searching for something to stir up. And whenever she did find an opportunity, she only took it if it guaranteed that she would end up back in Snape’s clutches. The first chance came over the weekend, when she hinted to a group of devious Ravenclaw Fourth years that she knew the brewing instructions to the oh-so-tempting Bubble Juice Potion. Snape _happened_ to overhear the exchange on his way the Great hall for supper, and immediately after the meal, Rose was downstairs washing test tubes. It was a short session, but it was enough for her. And on top of that, she got to snitch on a student or two. It turned out that Snape was more interested in what they were up to than her hapless enabling. He must have kept that in mind when he went to have a little chat with Flitwick because that was the last that Rose heard of it.

A couple of days later, while in the middle of a Potions practical, she purposely blew up her own potion and _accidently_ destroyed a beaker or two in class. She relentlessly, animatedly apologized, but Snape still called it sad and pathetic for someone of her skill level. She scrubbed out cauldrons for a good few hours that night, enough time to have a scholarly debate with her professor over the further development of Cancer-curing Potions, as was read by them both in the _Practical Potioneer._

The day after that, she got into a dispute of shouts with both Parkinson and Malfoy which ended with a rather large section of Malfoy’s blonde hair being sheared off. And like the spoiled child that he was, the Slytherin went running to his Head of House. Alright, so Rose might have deserved that one. It was her spell that did it, after all. But Malfoy overreacted just a little bit. It would grow back, even if he needed a potion to help it along. That’s what happens when you jump into someone else’s battle! And she had warned him of what would happen if he ever called her Rosie again. Snape then proceeded to track her down and informed her of her detention set for the following night.

“You’re totally out of your mind,” Ron said to her, wiping sweat from his forehead. Several small, contained fires were burning in the Charms classroom, where the Seventh years, working in groups, were practicing the Flame-freezing Charm. “Of all people I would think to end up that barking, you were definitely not one of them.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ron,” said Rose, shaking her head in her own sarcasm. She was perched on the edge of her desk, fiddling with her wand.

“You got into detention-worthy trouble three times in five days,” Harry so matter-of-factly tossed out, holding his hand in amongst the newly bewitched flames before him without so much as a flinch. “You’ve served more time in a month and a half than anyone else in our year. If that’s not mad, I don’t know what is.” He drew back away from the fire.

“It’s not my fault Snape is always around the corner whenever I mess up.” Rose swished her wand through the air. A quick test by Ron with a dry twig confirmed a successful reversal of the spell.

Harry muffled his laughter behind a toothy grin. “I think when you intentionally hex off someone’s hair, you have skedaddled past mess up.”

“He’s not kidding, Rose,” said Hermione, recasting the spell on their fire. “What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Nothing’s gotten into me. Just bad decisions and worse luck.” Oh that was a lie if she ever heard one! Rose swept her hand through the fire and it came out feeling like she had stuck it out of her mother’s car window on a balmy summer evening. She then dabbed away the moisture on her temples. “It’s not like I can do anything about it anyway. What Snape says goes. When has that ever changed?”

“You could have at least tried to fight it,” said Ron, contorting his brow. “That Bubble Juice thing wasn’t even your fault. And you never actually got around to telling those kids anything.”

“And that’s why I got one night while they got four. Look guys, at this point, I’m done fighting with Snape. I lose every time, so why go to the trouble?”

Harry sighed, shaking his head. “Oh yes, you’re barking. Just a little, I mean.”

“Nah, just taking what I had coming. I don’t think I like being overly defiant anyway. It leaves a nasty taste in your mouth.”

Ron was still hopelessly confused, and Harry wasn’t fairing that much better. In the end, they chalked it up to some sort of post-trauma rebellion in response to the recently ended war. Hey, she had been through a lot, just like anyone else at Hogwarts. And as Hermione had once said to them, everyone had different methods of adapting. Rose would probably sort herself out soon.

Their attention was drawn away by Flitwick’s peppy voice at the front of the room. It was time for the ultimate test of their skill. Someone was going to be tied to a stake and burned, and Neville had drawn the short straw. The boys hurried up to the cast-iron pit sitting just in front of their professor’s desk. Hermione and Rose were slow to follow, both finding this to be barbaric and an insult to their ancestors. Their only relief was that there was plenty of first aid on hand, and a school nurse on high alert. Hermione carefully tucked away her wand. “It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

“What is?” asked Rose, still twiddling away at the dark wood in her hands.

“That Snape has been so quick to put you in detention recently. Ron has a point. If it were up to me, I would have just taken points for the Bubble Juice incident, and especially for the damages you caused in Potions class. I still can’t believe that happened, by the way. You should have had no problems with that potion.”

“Yeah, goes to show you,” Rose shrugged, lapsing into a little performance to cover her tracks. “I let my attention go for two seconds and _boom!_ ”

“I still don’t think it’s right. He’s been too hard on you. He has to leave you alone sometime.”

“Given recent circumstances, I choose not to penalize Snape that much. Besides, he still hasn’t left you and Harry alone, and it’s been eight years.”

The Head Girl paused for a moment, looking almost as perplexed as her boyfriend. “Erm…I guess that’s true. It’s still strange, though. This never happened with you years ago, only since last month.”

“I’m not complaining, Mione,” said Rose, shaking her head with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t either if my detentions included idle chats. Does he still talk to you like that?”

The ginger witch nodded. “We were talking about the _Practical Potioneer_ the other night.”

“See, that’s what really concerns me,” said Hermione. “I know you’ve been telling me this for weeks, but that still doesn’t seem like Snape. I can’t help but wonder what is going on with him.”

“Hermione, please don’t fixate on this,” Rose gently pleaded. “Not that I know for sure, but I don’t think Snape likes being scrutinized like that. I don’t do it, and neither should you. You should be the one telling me not to do it. Don’t you go losing it before I do.”

“Oh stop it, Rose. We’re both perfectly sane…however, are you sure that you’re okay with this?”

_‘I like being around Snape, I enjoy detention too much, and I throw myself into those situations at my own free will. Of course, I’m not okay!’_ Rose shouted within the confines of her own mind. For the sake of her sanity, she wanted to say that out loud. But she questioned whether or not she was ready for an onslaught of Granger. No…no, not yet. “As long as he doesn’t touch my Hogsmeade privileges, I am perfectly fine.”

Hermione scoffed, albeit playfully. “You keep it up, and I’ll end up buying all of your chocolate bars until Christmas.”

“Granger, Beckett,” came Flitwick’s call. “Both of you up here right now. You wouldn’t want to let Longbottom be the next victim of a witch-burning, would you?”

**~HP~**  

“I do hope that Beckett isn’t driving you mad, Severus,” Minerva curtly said over her freshly poured tea. “I honestly have no idea what has gotten into that girl.”

“She’s young. I don’t think that there’s much to question.” Severus sat across from his colleague in front of her desk. The afternoon sun poured in through the panes of the windows in Minerva’s office. The relaxed Potions master was stirring in a rather small spoonful of sugar into his cup. “Given your house’s disposition for letting their egos get the better of them, I suppose it would have happened eventually. Beckett is making up for all the trouble she didn’t get into when she was a child.”

“Ridiculous, she’s a sensible girl. She wouldn’t do anything of the sort on purpose. However, I don’t think I would have dealt out a detention for a class mistake.”

Severus would have faltered if he hadn’t been so damn good at maintaining his composure. Even for him, that was a trivial reason for hard punishment, played up just to give himself an opening to get another taste of Rose’s compassionate side. He shook his head with a half smirk. “Minerva, you know how smart Beckett is. I know that she wants to work with Muggles, but she is missing her calling if you have to ask me. That particular potion should not have been a problem for her. I only gave her detention because I noticed how after the first time she was with me a month ago, it gave her the initiative to work harder. It was for her own good, if you will.”

“Very well, just don’t make a habit out of it,” said Minerva, chuckling under her breath. “Forgive me, Severus. I find it ironic that you are taking that kind of educational interest in one of my Gryffindors.”

“It’s been a long time since a student has come to me with a potions journal and a valid argument.”

“Ah, so you’ve been getting some of the rhetoric that Cassandra has been bragging about. You know, I have often wondered what she could do if didn’t slack off in my class.”

“From what I’ve seen, she could make her point very clear, and say it in an honest, decent way.” Severus unknowingly let his eyes drift away. But then he heard a distinct tapping of a nail on a hard surface. He looked back at Minerva’s finger, which was hammering away at her desk. There was a rather incredulous look behind square frames. “And you did not believe me when I told you that she was a fine young lady.”

“Now see,” Severus stuck a thin, pale finger out at the elderly witch. “This is why I don’t talk about my affiliations with individual students. Just because I see a scrap of potential in Rose Beckett does not mean she has opened my eyes to the rest of her house.”

“But you still agree with me, don’t you?”

The younger professor let out a sigh. “In this case, I think I can.” And there is plenty more where that came from, Severus thought to himself. Of course, Minerva certainly had no business in knowing that, or just why Rose had so many detentions in the span of a week. He could only hope that she hadn’t noticed anything strange about him; the mere thought of Rose brought up his mood. True, years of double agency gave him an advantage. But the girl made him somewhat reasonable, for magic’s sake!  

“I’ve noticed that you have been in lighter moods lately.” Damn it! So Minerva did know him after all. Doing what he could to keep his cover, Severus did not offer up an immediate response to Minerva’s statement. But the deputy headmistress’s face relaxed as she said, “How have you been feeling?”

“Pretty fair,” said Severus, quite relieved. “I’m getting by.”

“Is your morning sickness starting to taper off?”

“I don’t want to take any chances, but I have only been nauseous twice this week, and it wasn’t as severe. I suppose that means something.”

Minerva smiled. “That’s wonderful to hear, Severus.” She carefully grabbed hold of a small plate of cranberry scones and held it out to him. “Would it trouble you to have one of these?”

It being half past three, Severus realized that a light snack was probably a good idea. He reached over to take one of the pastries. “I only do it for the sake of the child. Besides, I’d like to do what I can to keep Poppy at bay. I’m almost dreading my next examination.” He took a small bite.

“She’s just doing her job,” said Minerva, helping herself to a scone so that Severus didn’t feel too forced. “How have your emotions been? Better?”

Severus sighed. “I have good days and bad days. I really am trying my best to manage them. Talking with Beckett and Malfoy has been an adequate diversion at times, but they’re just eighteen year-old kids. They’re not therapists. And even if they were, I couldn’t tell either of them the depth of my problems.”

Minerva sighed, and her face fell. “Well, you know that you could always talk to us.”

“I know, Minerva. But I will be honest with you. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It is just easier for me to deal with my issues the way that I’m used to. And right now, I feel that you know everything that you need to know.”

“About how your baby was conceived, yes. But what about what happens from here? Word is that you are considering adoption.”

“I am,” Severus nodded, finishing off his scone.

“Yes, I understand that Albus has had a few things to say about that.”

“If you are about to try and coerce me into changing my mind, you won’t have much better luck than that old fool.”

Minerva caught a chuckle in her throat. “That much, I already assumed. You are just considering it after all. But can I ask you, dear? What makes you think that giving the child up would be the best thing to do?”

Severus set down his teacup and leaned forward. He rested his chin in his hand. “Let’s be practical. I returned to Hogwarts because my work is my life. I don’t believe Albus would have brought me back if he did not think that I would be here for very long. I could be teaching for several more years. How could I possibly continue working at my current level and care for an infant at the same time? I mean, what do you want me to do, set up a cradle in the corner of my classroom? Abandon students for feedings or to change nappies?”

“You could,” said Minerva, raising her eyebrows. “But Severus, believe it or not, you are not the first professor in Hogwarts’ history to raise children. I can recall witches and wizards who held down very successful careers while managing to keep a family life. I understand it might not as easy for you being a single parent. But we could help you find a way to make it happen.”

“Really? Draco Malfoy was mostly raised by House-elves, and look how he turned out.”

“There are other options, Severus. Those of us who agreed to help you through your pregnancy could help you some more after the baby comes. I know Poppy certainly has expressed interest in looking after it while you are in a lesson. And you know, I wouldn’t object to a cradle beside my desk.”

Severus looked up at his colleague. “You would watch the child for me? Minerva, I could never ask you to do that. I couldn’t ask that of anyone else involved. This is my problem; no one else should have to alter their daily lives for that, especially you and Albus.”

“It would be better than watching you go about yours, trying to live with a decision that you might come to regret.”

“I don’t see much regret in the possibility,” said Severus. “I don’t think I could provide a stable life for my child, maybe someone else could.”

Minerva’s fingers started drumming her desk again. “Would you let just anyone take your child?” Severus opened his mouth to speak, but failed to produce any words. The elderly witch continued. “You didn’t think of that, did you? Would you feel comfortable allowing just any couple – let’s say a lower-class Muggle couple – raise your child?”

“I would make sure that the child went to a good home,” Severus said quietly, slightly stumbling over his words. “Besides, we both know people who were raised by Muggles and grew up well. Granger’s a Muggle-born, Beckett’s mother is a Muggle –,”

“My dear, I know you too well. You would rather let one of those girls raise the baby than hand it over to a Muggle.”

_‘Oh god, you have no idea!’_  But she was right though. Rose was quite young, as was Granger. Neither had shown any potential of becoming excellent mothers, but they were a more preferable choice than Muggles, Rose especially.

“Furthermore,” said Minerva, attracting the wizard’s attention again. “No matter who raises it, we do know one thing. More than likely, this child will be magical, and that only means one thing. In eleven years’ time, he or she will return to this castle for their education. You very likely could still be here when that happens. What if they step up to be sorted, and they are the spitting image of you? Would you be able to look that child in the eye, knowing that you are their biological father, and they could never know the same?”

Severus was silent, leaning forward again and staring down at the floor. He had to be honest with himself. A part of him felt that adoption was the best way to make all of this go away. Give up the child, and you give up the pain. It was more emotional torment than it was worth, a lifetime’s worth. But was Minerva right? Would he regret losing out on his one shot at fatherhood? He was just going to end up in a bad place anyway, wasn’t he? “All I want is for the child to have a good life, well provided for, well loved.”

Minerva smiled in her sympathy. “I don’t mean to force my beliefs on you, but I think your child can get exactly that from you. Forgive me, but something tells me that you don’t really want to do this. Of course, that might just be me being a silly old woman.”

“Believe me when I say this, Minerva. I won’t be making any decisions until I am definitely sure.” The office was quiet after that, both Severus and Minerva retreating into their own minds. But seemingly out of the blue, Minerva started laughing under her breath.

“You know, since you have taken a liking to using Beckett as a servant, perhaps you could hire her as a nanny once she’s left school.”

Severus forced a chuckle at the witch’s cheek. He also took a long swig of very hot tea to cover the slight tint of pink creeping into his high cheekbones. Both were at risk of getting worse as he thought of that evening’s engagement. It wasn’t a bad idea, but did it have to make the room so uncomfortable? And why was Minerva looking at him like that? The woman couldn’t possibly tell how much he fancied that girl.

**~HP~**

Jars and wrappings were scattered around the head desk in the Potions classroom, surrounding the cauldron simmering at its center. Severus stood over the rim, slowly swirling the liquid within with a glass rod. Across the desk, Rose was dicing peppermint leaves into fine little pieces. He had decided to take some unnecessary pity on the Gryffindor and allow her to help with the Invigoration Draught that needed brewing.

Rose was in a chipper mood for the late hour, happy to get the chance to work with Snape rather than for him. It helped that it was a concoction that she soared at brewing in her earlier years, a fact that Snape didn’t ignore. Not once did he criticize any of her actions. It was more like she was an apprentice to his master, and Rose couldn’t help but think of herself as exactly that. There was no stopping the satisfied grin that often broke out across her face.

She didn’t notice the faint blush that stained the Potions professor’s face.

“So Professor, did Malfoy’s hair grow back yet?” she asked, barely looking up from her knife.

“The last I heard, he had taken a Hair-growth Potion and was looking for someone to give him a decent haircut.” Snape glanced at her out of the corner of his onyx eye. “Don’t you smirk at me like that, Miss Beckett. That was your doing.”

“Hey, he’s lucky that I didn’t do worse. And don’t you sneer like that, I could have.”

Snape shook his head, letting his eyes close slightly. “You have more self-control than that.”

“I’d like to see Professor McGonagall hear you say that,” Rose laughed. She scraped the leaf pieces into a tighter pile before continuing to cut. “Say, who is this potion for? It doesn’t look like it’ll make that many doses.”

“Someone who will not be able to get through tomorrow without it,” said Snape, rolling his eyes.

“You mean you?” Rose playfully sneered.

“Please, I can get by just fine by my own stamina. I have regained much of my strength, in case you haven’t noticed it yourself.”

“Oh I have,” said Rose. “I’m glad to see you in better shape, sir. I’m sorry, now who is this for?”

“You might get a better idea if you take a look out the window.”

Rose set her knife to the side and floated over to side of the room. The window was high and barred over, as with all the others in the castle’s lower levels. The view of the grounds was available only to those who managed to get themselves high enough to see directly out, not the wisest of things to do in the classroom of Severus Snape. However, standing below it gave a terrific view of the highland sky. Rose looked up at the sparkling stars which seemed to be pulled toward the huge, golden moon, so high above the castle.

“It’s a full moon!” she said as she turned back to Snape, who was lifting his rod out of the hot violet liquid. “This is for Professor Lupin, isn’t it?”

“Like I said,” Snape replied, nodding. “If he thinks he’s going to attempt getting out of bed come the morning, he will need this potion. You would be brewing a pain potion right now if I hadn’t already delivered that stock up to Madam Pomfrey.”

“It takes that much out of him?” Rose spoke with a childlike innocence. It was obvious that she had so little knowledge of lycanthropy and what it did to people, shocking when you had a werewolf as your teacher. Lupin must not talk much of his condition, Snape thought. Ai Merlin, that was one more thing he had in common with the mangy mutt! Snape focused in on those inquisitive blue eyes, eyes that were just asking to be indulged.

“Yes Miss Beckett, the transformation into a werewolf puts a great deal of strain on the body. The aches and pains have been known to last for days at a time. In Lupin’s case, he’s lucky that he knows what he’s doing in that form, otherwise it would be a lot worse. That’s why you’re in detention tonight instead of last night, I was too busy brewing Lupin’s Wolfsbane Potion.”

“Good call,” said Rose. “I don’t like to brag, Professor. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“Nonsense, you will be at that level before your twentieth birthday. However, since it was involving the health of a faculty member, it was best to leave students out of the process.” Rose nodded her understanding and grasped her knife again. Snape lowered the flame beneath the cauldron and then looked at the peppermint in front of Rose. “You can start adding that to the potion now.”

Snape watched Rose as she used the blade to scoop up small handfuls and deposited the diced leaves into the brew. The way she handled the ingredients so carefully made his pride swell. Even the bare bones of a potion must be treated with care; she learned that from him. The only thing that made it better for him was that she was so damn peaceful around him, making her all the more lovely. It was good that she was so concentrated on her task, because she might have caught a glimpse of his reluctant smile.

“You know, I’m sure he will appreciate your help on this,” he said, attracting Rose’s attention.

“Professor Lupin?” the Gryffindor asked, a little surprised. “Oh, I don’t know about that. With my progress in his class, I don’t think he would want to trust my work.”

“Miss Beckett, he knows you well enough to know of your skill in brewing.” Snape cocked his eyebrow in a most curious way, a kind of encouraging look. Rose’s smile stopped just short of a grin. “As I have said to you before, doubting your own abilities will bring you nothing but trouble. I don’t know who told you that you needed to be paranoid about your potions because it certainly wasn’t me. Besides, Lupin knows that you like aiding others. I think he would be happy to be a beneficiary of that generosity.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Rose, feeling the blush coming on.

“Oh, I believe I do. That mutt of a professor of yours has been telling me for days about how lucky I was to have a student that did my bidding without complaints. I told him I didn’t think it was luck that I happened to end up with one of the more stubborn ones. It was luck that you can be both stubborn and understanding.” Snape offered Rose what had to be the most genuine smile she had seen in weeks, maybe even years. It wasn’t as warm or tender as others, but it was sincere. That was evident in the welcoming look on Snape’s face, in those deep eyes. And there was something in that look that caught Rose’s eye.

She didn’t know if it was the extra rest, or just the leisure of this so-called punishment, but something was doing wonders for the Potions master. He looked better when he relaxed those anger lines in his forehead, when he had no dark circles under his eyes. The color was finally starting to come back into his face, and he didn’t look as gaunt. If she didn’t know any better, she would be saying that Snape was starting to look good, in a harsh sort of way. Maybe Ron was right, maybe she was starting to crack.

No, she was simply making an observation. Snape’s physical condition was improving, and she was just seeing the results. And yet for some reason, he kept on holding her attention, whether he knew it or not. There was something that appealed to her, more than his support and advice. Actually, if Rose were honest with herself, she never really saw Snape to be particularly unsightly. In terms of going for the tall, dark, and scary look, it worked for him. It always had. And out of the many men that Rose had met over the course of her eighteen years, he was not the ugliest. Other girls called Snape repulsive; she could come up with a dozen guys a lot worse. It seemed now that her adult senses were really picking up on something that she missed in her youth. And that something was tickling at her insides as she watched Snape stirring their concoction, doing what he bloody well did best.

Oh bugger, what was the point?! It suddenly hit Rose that all she was doing was thinking in circles, beating around the bush of what was really hiding there in her head. And if she couldn’t admit it to herself, then it wasn’t worth the grief. She was attracted to Snape!

**~HP~**

Nearly two hours later, and Severus was still working at his desk. Rose had been gone for just about an hour, and the finished Invigoration Draught now sat in the cupboard in his office. The Gryffindor had insisted that she stay to help clean up after they were done, but Severus told her that it wasn’t necessary. Still feeling the delightful effects of her presence, he thought it best to work it off himself. She probably had better things to do anyway. It was still a crying shame though.

His cauldron washed and stowed away, and his equipment all back where it was meant to be, all that left for Severus was a reasonable stack of paperwork. It was more than routine by that point in his career, and he knew that it wouldn’t take very long at all. Every other page, he exchanged his quill for half a bar of Honeyduke’s milk chocolate and caramel swirl. The other half had gone to Rose after she laid her eyes on the vibrant wrappings and produced a silly excuse about it being one of her favorite varieties. Of course, Severus wasn’t going to deny her that small pleasure. Really, for a girl her age, it was amazing how much joy she could get from sweets.

Though Severus tried to keep his mind on his work, he always found his way back to Rose. He still couldn’t comprehend why she would ever think to doubt herself, even in the slightest. In past years, he might have accused her of trying to gain sympathy. But why would she need sympathy when she was wonderful by simply being who she was? Was she proud and obnoxious? Of course, she was. Did she always know it when she was? Maybe not. But was she able to put that aside and be that pleasant little lady that other teachers bragged about? Absolutely!

She didn’t deserve to frown upon herself for anything. Not her magic, not her flaws, and certainly not for what others thought of her.

Severus scribbled out his last sentence right as he finished off the chocolate. He then looked up at the clock and audibly sighed at the hour. He was really starting to feel the weight of the day. So somewhat reluctantly, Severus decided to call it a night. He just had to track down his lesson plans for the next day. Strangely, that proved to be easier thought than done. Severus was sure that he had left the parchment in a desk drawer, on top of all of the other junk he had collected. Fifteen minutes later, he was rummaging through piles of papers, physically lifting things out and not-so-gently setting them on the hard wood surface. Soon enough however, the parchment in question did turn up, buried under a stack of Fourth year quizzes. Severus sighed with relief, shaking his head. How silly to get worked up about something so miniscule. He grasped hold of his wand and was about to banish everything back to its original location when he heard something hit the ground. He looked down toward his boots.

On the floor was a copy of _Witch Weekly_. For a very brief moment, Severus was confused. But then he remembered that little hiccup with Lovegood, how he had seized her magazine, stowed it away, and then completely forgot about it. And he would have thought to throw it into the fire if he had not seen the finely-printed name in the lower corner of the front cover.

It was Rose’s magazine. Wait a second, now that he remembered, that was why he was so keen to take the magazine in the first place. He might have even given it back to her if he had remembered that he had it. He still could really, but the issue was almost two weeks old now. He had seen Rose around the castle, toting around the newest issue. There was no point in slipping it back, and there was no point in keeping it either. Slowly, he bent over and grabbed the periodical. He let it fall open in his hands, revealing pages of mail-to-order shopping. He noticed the dozens of little ink stars, Rose’s work obviously. The stars pointed out things that must have appealed to her, evidently some more so than others. He saw a set of crystal drop earrings, a silk scarf that altered its own color, and a lady’s textured jacket in dark green. Severus wondered why Rose hadn’t bought any of these items for herself, although he did get an idea when he caught sight of the prices. Her father had more money than he needed, but that didn’t mean that he liked to share it.

He flipped through the pages of products until he came across the last page, where there was a short order form. Above it, Rose had written out the short phrase _“One day! One day soon, Beckett!”_ Stars decorated the edges of her writing.

All of a sudden, Severus got an idea. Rose was a girl worth appreciating, and in his opinion, she didn’t get it enough. He would watch her from afar, knowing that at times she didn’t see herself for what she truly was. And that could drive him crazy if he didn’t do anything to change it. She needed to be shown how respectable she was. She needed to be shown just how special she was.

A very quick, very swift charm set his classroom straight, and Severus was soon off for his quarters, the magazine still in hand. Before midnight, an owl would be flying over the lake in the direction of London, bound for Diagon Alley.


	29. The unclaimed gift

Rose leaned over her DADA homework, bacon crumbs falling into the crease of her textbook. Every other minute, she stopped reading to shovel in a mouthful of eggs. But then she would jump right back into the chapter. She hated it with a passion every time she hit one of these educational snags that sought to eat up her time, not to mention her breakfast.

Beside her, Hermione was doing much the same thing with her Arithmancy book. Harry and Ron meanwhile sat across from the two girls, stuffing their faces with toast, engrossed in last night’s evening _Prophet._ The noise in the Great hall was low and muffled, but still with a certain sense of anticipation in the air. A typical Saturday morning at Hogwarts.

As much as she didn’t want distraction, again Rose couldn’t stop her concentrated gaze from travelling up to the Head table. As she watched Snape speaking amongst his colleagues, she felt warm, like she had been sitting before the Gryffindor fireplace. There was also that faint tickle deep inside, beckoning her to try and listen harder for that low voice. Alright, so she knew that her fascination with Snape was more than just academic. But that didn’t mean that Rose was any less confused. If anything, she was slightly disturbed with herself. She knew that a day would come when she would find herself attracted to someone else in her new, postwar life, but she could hardly have guessed that it would turn out to be Professor Severus Snape. This was so wrong on so many levels! He went to school with her dad, for Prospero’s sake! And not only that, he was also a Death Eater at one time or another, a genuine Death Eater! This was a wizard with an unhealthy relationship with the Dark Arts, whether you saw it or not. But Rose wasn’t met with that impression anymore. She didn’t see Snape the infamous wizard. Intuition told her that she was seeing Snape the man. And as crazy as she might have sounded for having such thoughts, he was a man worth checking out. That’s right; she was simply looking at a man that she thought to be good-looking. Looking never hurt anyone…well, almost anyone.

She looked back across the table, where her housemates were going about the business of waking up. Already, Rose knew that her friends could never find out about this. She loved them, and she trusted them with her life, but none of them could handle the revelation that the allegedly vile Potions master gave her a case of butterflies. The boys, forget about it! They wouldn’t leave it alone. They would poke fun at her as if their lives depended on it. Lavender and Parvati were well-known gossipers; not even those closest to them were safe. Not even Hermione could understand fully. Yes, she had become Rose’s closest friend at Hogwarts, but it took a very long time to get there. She didn’t even know about Rose’s love for her Slytherin friend until weeks after his death. The Head Girl had told her to get out there and look at other men, but Rose seriously doubted that Hermione meant one of their middle-aged, unkempt, moody teachers.

The familiar screech of owls signaled the arrival of the morning mail. Since Rose only got letters from her mother once every few days, she wasn’t really expecting anything. She continued on with her reading. The new editions of the _Prophet_ plopped down in front of Hermione, which she unrolled to begin reading. Ron’s paper came along with a small box from his brother’s business, most likely a new product they had just released. Harry decided to forgo his copy in favor of the envelope that was attached to it.

“Ginny’s been contacted by the Hollyhead Harpies,” he said excitedly. “They want to know if she’s interested in training with them until she goes back to school.”

“If she wants to play for Gryffindor when she comes back, then she should decline the offer,” said Hermione. She felt that it wouldn’t look very fair for their house to have a professionally trained Quidditch captain.

“Hey, it’s not like she’s just signed a full contract,” Ron said as he tore open his wrapped box and pulled out a large tin can. There was a short note resting beneath it in George’s handwriting that spelt out, “ _To aid your case of Seventh Syndrome.”_ He dug his nails under the lid and pried open the can to find the newest editions to the Skiving Snackbox collection. The ginger lad grinned rather suspiciously, coaxing a giggle out of Rose. “Let my sister have a little fun. She deserves to get out of the joke shop for a while.”

Hermione giggled herself. “If you ask me, she’s better off making money while she’s got the time for it.”

“But working does get boring after a while,” said Rose. Ron chuckled at that. “And we can take your word for it, can’t we?”

“Leave me out of it, Ron. I was lucky that Snape changed it up for me so I didn’t do the same thing two nights in a row.”

“Oi, heads up, Rose!”

Rose jerked her head up in the same direction as Harry’s and looked to the ceiling. A large screech owl was carrying a modestly sizable package in its talons. Noticing the angle and speed of its decent, it was a good wager that it was meant for one of them. And as it got closer, Rose realized that Harry was right to warn her. That owl was heading right for her. Rose held out her hands as the bird let go of the package in midair. The brown, paper-wrapped box fell through the air, into her waiting hands. She sat down again as she rested her parcel on top of her book.

“What is that?” asked Hermione.

“I dunno,” Rose answered with raised eyebrows. “Mum didn’t say anything about sending me something.”

“Maybe she wanted to surprise you,” Harry suggested, tucking away his letter from Ginny.

“My mother, after what she’s heard from Professor McGonagall?” Rose started working at the string to get at the envelope bearing her name. “Ha, I doubt it! It took her weeks just to let me have access to my own money again. I’ll be feeling the effects of her anger until Christmas.” She pulled the envelope out and noticed that there was no return name, or any indication as to where it came from. Cautiously, she tore it open and pulled out the note inside. She silently read the delicate script to herself.

_Rosie,_

Instantly, Rose felt a surge of some negative emotion. No one was allowed to call her that, and that included print. But still, curiosity overriding her annoyance, she sucked it up as much as she could and continued down the page.

_I know that you were probably not expecting any parcels. And frankly, that is exactly how I wanted it. I do apologize for the sudden surprise, but sometimes that is simply what a person needs. You are certainly no exception. Don’t fret, nothing in this box poses you any danger._

_Over the last few weeks, I must admit I have taken quite a fancy to you. Many people call you a piece of work, but to me you are the total package. You are clever, assertive, and very lovely. You know, I don’t think enough people truly recognize all that. You don’t get the credit that you should. I took it upon myself to show that to you, and it is my hope that you accept this gift. You really do deserve it._

_P.S. As for your name, though I understand that you are not particularly fond of that variation, it is rather pointless to get upset over a name which really isn’t that bad. After all, you can’t hex someone that you can’t see._

Rose suddenly felt a knot in her stomach. There was no name at the end of the letter. And as she didn’t recognize the handwriting, she couldn’t take a guess as to who this person was. A gift? Someone sent her a gift? Rose didn’t know whether to be touched or freaked out by the idea. And what was this nonsense about a fancy? Eight years and she had yet to date another Hogwarts student. It had occurred to her that if it hadn’t happened by then, it probably never would. This just came out of left field. It wasn’t that Rose was angry about it. It was just happening at a bad time for her. Someone was attempting to show her affection while she was still trying to get over her first love, as well as dealing with her budding feelings for Snape. It all came together to create a long pause, with Rose at a loss for words.

“Who’s it from?” asked Hermione as she folded her newspaper up.

“There’s no name.” Rose handed the letter to Hermione. The brunette witch read the note herself and glanced at the box. Out came her wand, and a charm was swiftly cast on the package and its contents. Nothing happened, and Hermione set her wand down onto the table.

“There are no traces of magic, no hexes, no curses,” Hermione handed the delicately written letter back to her ginger friend. She cracked a little smile as she did so. “Well Rose, it looks to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”

“Really?” asked Rose, almost like she was flat out denying it. “No way. An admirer, how juvenile.”

“What you mean juvenile? I think it’s cute.”

“Oh, it is cute…I guess.” She just contradicted herself, didn’t she? Now Rose was stumbling over her words. “But it – I mean – _sigh_ – I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to say to this.”

“You don’t know who it could be?” asked Ron, reaching for another piece of toast.

Rose shrugged. “I don’t hang around with any guys except you two. And both are you are taken…unless either of you have something to tell me.” Caught off-guard by that, Harry and Ron waved their hands a bit wildly, mumbling incoherent _no’s._ Hermione also didn’t look very amused by Rose’s cheek, so the other witch quickly recoiled. “Kidding! Kidding, Mione.” She then turned her attention down the table. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were just a few feet away, not-so-discreetly snooping on their conversation. All three of them shook their heads in that dozy, confused way that assured Rose that they were telling the truth. She looked back at Harry, who cocked his dark eyebrow like he questioned her choice of suspects.

“Well…who else could it be? I don’t know any other guys that well.”

“What about Jonny Cederman?” Harry suggested, referring to Rose’s former Hufflepuff comrade. “You knew him pretty well.”

Rose couldn’t help but laugh, thinking back on her old friend. “Firstly, his handwriting isn’t nearly this good. Secondly, if Jonny fancied me, I think I would have known about it by now. Besides, he wrote me the other day. He’s got a new American girlfriend.”

“So no other ideas?” asked Ron. He and Rose started looking over their shoulders, staring across the sea of faces and waiting for one to jump out. Ron took a little longer than Rose would have liked when he glanced over the Slytherin table.

“Don’t even think about it, Ron,” she warned. “Even without their bias against us, I’m not their type.”

“Hey, you never know,” said the male ginger. “We don’t know what Goyle is thinking when he’s just standing there behind Malfoy.” The very thought made Rose shudder excessively. That was a disgusting thought if she had ever heard one. Then she thought about Snape, and how she felt the direct opposite with him. Hmm…maybe she was a little bit crazy.

“So this really is a secret admirer,” said Harry. “Well Rose, aren’t you going to see what Romeo sent you?”

“I don’t know, guys,” Rose sighed. “Doesn’t this seem a bit dodgy to any of you? I mean, a large package just out of nowhere, with a letter with no name? Frankly, I don’t know if I can accept this.”

“Oh Rose,” Hermione jumped back in. “It’s a gift, it’s a nice gesture.”

Rose’s face twitched as she finally started to untie the strings and open the box. “I know, but doesn’t it strike you as odd that instead of leaving a flower at my desk or something normal like that, this person goes out and buys me a – _Ahhhhh!!_ ”

Rose screamed as she shot up off the bench, a huge smile plastered on her face. She tried to hide it behind her hands, but the high pitched, squeal-like giggles gave it away. It took everything in her to resist the urge to hop in place. Hermione, Harry, and Ron, startled by their friend’s reaction, leaned over the open box and looked in. There, neatly folded up, was the green jacket from the pages of _Witch Weekly._

“So you can’t accept it, can you?” asked Harry, poking fun. Ron’s mouth dropped open, thoroughly stunned. “Merlin’s beard, whoever it was, they really knew you!”

“Yeah Rose, how did they know that you wanted that jacket?” asked Hermione, fully knowing why Rose never bought it for herself, even if she wanted it so badly.

“I don’t know, but I don’t care!” said Rose, now pulling the jacket on.

“Well, no one ever found that magazine that Luna lost. Maybe he picked it up somewhere along the way.”

“Could be,” Hermione agreed. But Rose’s investigative spirit had apparently been pushed out of her mind. She was much more interested in trying on her new, very nice jacket, and showing off to her housemates, namely her female contemporaries. Evidently, it would be quite a while before she would be coming down from this excitement. She also didn’t care very much that almost the entire school was staring at her.

Sitting at the Head table, hidden behind his morning paper _,_ Severus was smiling to himself. Twenty galleons was quite outrageous, but it was so worth it to get a glimpse of that reaction.

**~HP~**

There were hardly times in Rose’s life where she could call herself obnoxious. This however was definitely one of those rare moments. Decked out in her best pair of jeans, a white shirt, and her new jacket, the Gryffindor didn’t walk as much as she skipped. She let her red hair blow through the air as she sailed by others in the halls. She was still reeling from getting that first look at herself in the mirror. The jacket looked better on than she could have ever imagined admiring it in the folds of a magazine. It was worth it to abandon her friends to go back up to her dormitory and change her outfit. She felt sexy, and she wanted everyone in Hogsmeade Village to know it too.

People were beginning to congregate in the entrance hall when Rose arrived, readjusting the way her handbag hung over her shoulder. The Seventh year Gryffindors had delegated a corner for themselves, and Rose immediately made her way over. She was barely halfway there when a loud voice rang through the air.

“Would you look at Barmy Beckett?! Traipsing along like she’s the hottest thing to walk the earth.”

“Nice to know that you have a thing against gingers, Malfoy,” Rose said coolly, turning to face the former ferret and his shadow of Goyle.

“Ha! It’s pathetic that you think it’s because you’re ginger.” Malfoy stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned his shoulders back, looking terribly proud of himself. Parkinson, Rose noticed, was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” she asked snidely.

“None of your damn business,” the Slytherin sneered.

“I’m surprised that you have the guts to approach me after our last encounter. Your hair grow back okay?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “For such a phenomenal potion maker, you should know how easy it is to make a Hair-growth Potion. Too bad the only one who could fix it was that blasted Muggle Studies teacher. The retched woman can’t cut hair to save her life! She kept insisting that she do it with her own hands.”

“Oh, so she should have charmed a pair of scissors, running the risk of snipping your ear off. Magic isn’t the solution to everything, Malfoy!”

“Spoken like a true traitor.” Malfoy didn’t look the least bit phased when several students nearby let out shocked gasps. Rose’s face flushed, feeling the anger building in her stomach.

“Back off, Malfoy!” Harry suddenly barked out, coming out of the group of Gryffindors and getting closer to Rose’s side.

“You can piss off, Potter,” Malfoy snapped right back. “It isn’t my fault that your so-called friend is an abomination of her blood.”

“Say anything about my mother, and you’ll be sorry,” Rose snarled.

“Who said I was talking about your filthy mother?” Malfoy must have decided he was feeling brave because he started taking a few steps forward. “My father often talks about how embarrassed yours is that his daughter is a half-blood. Can’t say I blame him, a family as pure as his.”

“You say that like he had no fucking part in it.”

“Minor details,” said Malfoy. “The least you could have done is make it up to him, try to be the child he wanted. But you couldn’t do that, could you? Just think, Beckett. Think of what you could have had if you were more like Daddy. You could have bought that pretty little jacket for yourself instead of waiting for some pitiful sap to feel sorry for you.”

Merlin, he still wasn’t afraid to hit below the belt! Rose’s hands clenched into hard fists, although she kept them securely at her side. Behind her, Harry and now Hermione were urging her to come on, to ignore the prat. But it felt like her trainers were fixed to the stone floor as she listened to Malfoy and his cronies laughing at her. So he had nobility and wealth, but with a family and lifestyle that depended on total submission to the recently vanquished Dark Lord. She was middle class from a one-income household, and she had a fairly stable home life. Oh yes, that was laughable!

_‘What the fuck does he get out of it?’_ she wondered. _‘I’m pathetic?’_

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose noticed Lupin and Sprout walking and talking with Snape. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the Potions master was casual, and appeared well-rested. It was the more natural Snape, the one that she liked so much. Feeling the fluttering inside, she let out an involuntary sigh, more interested in him than her surroundings. She could have sworn that their eyes connected when she heard Malfoy’s nasally voice come again. “He would be pleased to know that his little mistake has grown up to be a charity case.”

And like that, they reached Rose’s breaking point, and Snape was there to see it. With a last furious glance at him, she grabbed her wand out from her belt and jabbed it in Malfoy’s direction. The Slytherin retreated and sought safety behind Goyle’s back.

“Oi, stop right there!” Lupin shouted over the commotion Rose had caused. “Beckett, what the devil is going on here?”

The thoughts came to Rose’s head, but what came out of her mouth was disconnected stammer. “Well I – but he – I was – you saw what he was doing.”

“So we did, but it didn’t look to me like Malfoy was moving to strike at you.”

“Indeed,” Rose heard Snape say as he strolled up on her right side. “You always get yourself into the most despicable situations, don’t you Beckett?”

The young Gryffindor turned to Snape, and found herself easing into the calm demeanor he had recently lulled her into. “Malfoy started it. He came out and started harassing me. Everyone here could vouch for me.” The Seventh years showed their agreement with a mass nod.

“I’m sure they can,” Snape nodded. Strangely, that didn’t sound so spiteful or biased. “That however does not excuse you.”

“Professor Snape is right,” said Lupin, turning his head to Malfoy in time to see Goyle step out of the way. “The same goes for you, Mister Malfoy. While Miss Beckett had no real right to pull a wand on you, I can see why she would. The things you were saying were incredibly rude to say the least.”

“It’s not my fault that she can’t control herself,” Malfoy half-complained. “She’s mad, is what she is!”

Rose swallowed and looked to Snape. “Does this mean I can’t go into Hogsmeade?” She rather expected that she would not be seeing the village again for quite a long time.

“Only if I wanted your Head of House to immediately reverse it, citing lack of actual violence.” Lupin looked shocked to hear that, but in a good way, like Snape was finally starting to ease up on his discipline. The dark-haired professor let his deep ebony eyes roll to Malfoy. “If I hear anything about Parkinson having a thing to do with this –,”

“She didn’t!” Malfoy defended. That however didn’t deter Snape. “But if she did, the consequences would be far more unsavory for you, Mister Malfoy. Fifteen points will be taken from both Gryffindor and Slytherin, and since you Beckett have obviously developed a habit of attacking unarmed wizards, I want you to report to my office tonight at seven o’clock.”

“Yes sir,” both Rose and Malfoy droned.

Snape then excused himself from the group and ducked into the staffroom. Though she was stone-faced to everyone around her, Rose was shoving down the flutters of excitement in her stomach. She put her wand away as Harry tugged her arm to come on. Lupin also kept himself between the two defeated brawlers. Rose was out the door and making her way across the courtyard by the time Pansy Parkinson moseyed up to Malfoy with an oddly curious, “What did I miss?”

**~HP~**

Rose got lucky in that she didn’t cross paths with that band of Slytherin lowlifes for quite some time after that. She didn’t see them, she didn’t hear them, nothing! How funny, she thought, considering she was waiting for a revenge attack from Parkinson that never came. The one time that they did see one another, Malfoy scurried away with barely a squeak. That however might have been due to the fact that Lupin was always an earshot away from her and her friends. Sometimes, having a werewolf on your side had its perks.

That same werewolf took to standing over their table as they all talked over drinks in the Three Broomsticks pub. This turned out to be where they spent most of their time in the village, along with a great number of other students their age. Of all interesting things they could have discussed in a casual manner with one of their professors, Rose’s most recent encounter with Snape seemed to be the most curious to everyone except Rose.

“If that had been me turning my wand on Malfoy, I wouldn’t have seen this pub again until June,” Ron ranted, leaning an elbow on the table to cradle his chin.

“If it was me, it’d be that _and_ we would have to find a new Quidditch captain,” said Harry, taking long sips of his Butterbeer.

“Forget about it, guys,” Rose urged, nonchalantly. “It’s over, no harm done.”

“I’m sorry, but I agree with the boys,” said Hermione. “With the way you’ve been recently, I would have thought that today would be the last straw for Professor Snape. He should have totally lost it with you. What do you think, Remus?”

“I think that Severus is finally taking some advice and slowing down,” Lupin said as he pulled up a chair from another table. “All four of you know that he’s been through the ringer, and that’s taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally. The fact that he was so rough on you when we first got back to Hogwarts only tired him out further, I believe. He cannot go on like that, and he knows it.”

“He is doing better though, right?” Rose inquired with some concern.

Ron scoffed. “Why would you care? He gave you detention _again!_ ” Rose turned to him with hard, blue eyes. “Because maybe I don’t want to be the bitch I’ve been accused of.”

Remus chuckled under his breath. “He’ll be fine. Just don’t give him a reason to stress and you’ll be a big help. Actually, you’ve already provided a good deal of assistance from what I’ve heard.”

Rose smiled, more to herself than to her companions. Had Snape spoken of her to his colleagues? Had he been complimenting her hard work? “I try to do what I can, Professor.”

An hour, maybe two passed, and suddenly everyone found themselves going on separate ventures, taking care of their individual needs. Harry was off to the Post Office to send a return letter to Ginny, along with a box of her favorite flowers he had suddenly decided to purchase. Ron had been drafted by his brother to act as a business affiliate and check out the empty Zonko’s location. And both Hermione and Rose required a trip to the Quill shop to replace dull writing implements and replenish dangerously low supplies of ink. Hermione then went to join Ron, as she had promised, inviting Rose to come along. Rose politely declined and left her friend on the streets. She wasn’t going to return to the castle without a visit to Honeyduke’s Sweetshop.

She didn’t have to look around when she got through the door because she already knew what she wanted – alright needed. The first thing she grabbed was four packages of Chocolate frogs, praying that the cards were worth something. She didn’t care how silly she looked with those things in her arms. They were going to be eaten, and the cards were going to someone who really wanted them. She bypassed a bag of Bertie Bott’s before heading over to the far wall of the shop, where shelves upon shelves were stocked with every type of chocolate bar imaginable. She grabbed her usual favorites; milk chocolate, milk and white checkered, chocolate and caramel swirl. She continued down the length of the floor when a thought suddenly came to her.

Snape seemed to be eating a lot of chocolate lately. Well, a lot in the sense that she had seen him eating it, and on more than one occasion. Very strange, he never seemed to be crazy about it before, not the way she was. But then, she had never seen so much of Snape in her earlier years. Maybe he always had a soft spot for sweets and just hid it incredibly well. Or perhaps this was the result of some new eating habits he had picked up. He appeared to enjoy it either way, though Rose could not possibly picture her favorite professor walking into that shop and stocking up right along with her.

Hold on, Ron had finally paid her back for that bet on Lavender and Justin. She had a few extra sickles to spare that month.

Surely Snape wouldn’t mind too much if she bought some extra sweets for him. It was a nice thing to do anyway, a nice thing that would show just how much she appreciated him and what he did for her. Maybe she could one-up Parkinson in Snape’s altogether favor! Maybe, just maybe, he could see how much she cared for him. Bubbling with anticipation, Rose reached for something that she thought Snape would like. She knew he preferred the caramel, but perhaps also milk and almond. Wait, he wasn’t allergic, was he? Maybe toffee chunk was a better idea.

**~HP~**

“You know Miss Beckett, if you wanted to spend time down here, you could have just said so.”

Rose looked up and almost dropped the jar of beetles she had been cleaning. The Potions master was sitting in one of his winged chairs in his office, watching her work. Rose blushed, unsure of what to say to that. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Professor.”

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Snape countered, and Rose felt her forehead getting damp. “I saw what you did in the entrance hall. You didn’t pull your wand out until after you saw my colleagues and I coming.”

Now Rose’s breath was getting shallow. She was caught. Hold on, of course she was caught! Snape wasn’t stupid, or blind for that matter. But that couldn’t stop the embarrassment from flooding in. How the hell could she talk her way out of this one? Upon further anxious thought, Rose realized that she actually couldn’t. “You saw that?”

Snape nodded. “I’m surprised no one else did; it was rather obvious. This makes four times that I caught you stirring up trouble. And strangely enough, I seem to be the only one who sees it. Tell me the truth, Beckett. Have you been looking for trouble so that you could get detention with me?”

She didn’t want to admit it. The way Snape was speaking did nothing but make Rose feel belittled. What she did was absolutely ridiculous; she knew it, he knew it, and he made that clear. It was a good couple of minutes before Rose lowered her eyes, set the jar back on the shelf, and said, “…yes.”

“Do you wish to have more access to me outside of class?”

“Yes,” Rose’s voice cracked in shame. Great, she was groveling now! But Snape didn’t seem to pay much notice. He simply said, “Then all you had to do is ask.” Rose lifted her gaze to look Snape in the face and was surprised to be met with a calm smirk.

“You mean that?” she asked. “I mean you – you don’t mind?”

“You have been using your detention time to ask me questions about the craft that none of your classmates think to ask. Why would I mind that? Also, it is clear to me that you like our little debates, otherwise you wouldn’t repeatedly start them up.” Snape stopped briefly to sigh with a terse shake of the head. “And I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I don’t mind them myself.”

“I knew it!” Rose smiled. “You do like talking to me.”

“Only because I feel that what you have to say is valid and worth listening to. Let’s not get too proud of ourselves”

The young witch turned back to her work, which wouldn’t be taking her that much longer (Snape preferred the ingredients stored in his office to be kept as dust-free as possible, meaning he usually saw to that himself). She still couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. How could she? She had Snape’s blessing to turn up when she wanted, talk to him when she needed. She must really have a thing for this man because this felt way better than either of the two times this happened in Muggle Studies. Rose only hoped that she didn’t drop anything, her hands were shaking slightly. Repeatedly, she made nervous turns to Snape, and every time, she felt that quiver in her stomach.

“A bit uneasy now, are we?” said Snape, catching on to this. Rose shook her head. “No, no I’m fine.”

“Really? You are jumpier now than you were this morning when you got that jacket you’re wearing. By the way, it doesn’t look half-bad.”

“Thank you,” said Rose, raising her eyebrows. “I’m okay, really. Just a little surprised, is all.”

“What? Was the idea of me allowing you to spend some of your free time with me that inconceivable?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact it was.” Rose turned around fully, resting a hand on her hip.

“I don’t really see why,” said Snape. “You have been loitering in the Muggle Studies classroom for years.”

“Well this is different. I mean…it’s you…and it’s me. Classes aside, I never really thought that you could like me that much.”

“What can I say? You have really grown on me. There are not that many students that are more than a name and a face to me, and you are one of them.”

“I sure hope that’s a good thing,” Rose laughed in her playful sarcasm.

“Trust me, you have moved past the point of it being bad.” The Potions master reminded Rose that she still had to finish dusting that shelf, which she set herself to at a quick pace. She still kept her attention on him as she wiped down those jars. “It was actually my hope that you put this permission to good use. I frequently have to do quite a bit of independent brewing after classes let out, mostly for school purposes, but sometimes for myself or others. With my recent health troubles, it has occurred to me that it might be a good idea to have some assistance once in a while. I see a lot of potential in you, Miss Beckett. You have the talent, and you have the interest in potion making that has propelled you past many of your classmates. At this time, you are the only student that I can both trust with my potions, and do so while tolerating your presence.”

Rose smiled wide. “Why don’t you just come out and say it? You enjoy my company, don’t you?” She finished with the last jar in the row and set aside the dirty rag. Snape looked to the ceiling and sighed. “More so than others, yes. Put it this way, I would rather have you than Granger.”

“And what about Malfoy?” asked Rose, setting herself to the task of straightening all of Snape’s jars out until they were in an almost perfect line.

“You are more accomplished than he is.”

Oh, these compliments were driving Rose wild! It was almost a good thing that her back was turned, or Snape would have gotten a gander at her hard blush and her silly grin. The only real reason that she thought to look back was to catch a glimpse of her own at Snape. The darkness of the little room served to enhance his unconventional handsomeness. In fact, the way he leaned back into his chair was quite alluring.

Whoa, now she was getting way too ahead of herself! What had happened to her for her mind to go to the gutter so quickly?

She blew out a few shallow breaths to calm her inner tremors. She then straightened the hem of her green jacket before turning to face her professor. “If that is the case, then I would be delighted. It would be pretty cool to be like an apprentice to one of the best Potions masters in Britain.”

“Oh, you are too kind,” Snape said, obviously very sarcastic. He glanced around, surveying the state of his office. “Very well, Miss Beckett. You have done quite enough here. I suppose I could go easy on you and let you go now.”

“Thank you Professor,” said Rose. “And I promise, this really is the last time you’ll have to punish me.”

“I’ll hold you on that one.” Snape smirked, letting his gaze fall away. He then pointed a finger to the door. “Now go, have a good night.”

“Good night, Professor.” Rose crossed the room and picked up her handbag, which was resting on the seat of the second wingchair. Swinging it over her shoulder, she then made for the door. But just as she touched the tarnished handle, she came to a sudden halt. “Oh, before I forget!”

Snape watched as Rose opened up her bag and stuck her hand in. After a short moment of rustling, she brought it up and out. He saw that she was holding four bars of Honeyduke’s chocolate of all different varieties. Not much of a shock there, he thought. But to his surprise, she held all of them out to him. “Miss Beckett, what is this?”

“These are for you,” said Rose. “I noticed that you had taken a liking to them, so I thought I would pick some up for you while I was in Hogsmeade.”

Carefully, Snape took the sweets from his student’s fair hand. He examined them further to see that they were all types that he found palatable. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. “You didn’t have to do that.” The wizard stood up and moved over to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a leather pouch, from which he started to retrieve a few pieces of silver.

“No, no, I don’t want your money sir,” Rose giggled, holding out her hand. “This is my treat.”

Snape stood there for a moment or two, his brow wrinkled and his jaw dropped like he wanted to speak. Rose wasn’t deterred by his silence, although her face did fall a little more with every second that ticked by. Finally, Snape took a breath in. “Thank you…that was generous of you.”

“It’s no big deal,” said Rose. “Just wanted to do something nice.”

“You are just in a merry mood, aren’t you Beckett,” Snape implied with a cock of his head. Rose shrugged her shoulders and smirked. “It’s kind of hard not to be after this morning. You have to understand, Professor. I’ve wanted this jacket for a long time. I couldn’t let it go quietly.”

Snape slowly nodded. “So I saw. Judging from that, I suppose it would be prudent to assume that you didn’t purchase that yourself.”

“You’re right, sir. The problem is that I don’t know who did buy it. But whoever they are, bless their heart.” Rose looked to the clock sitting on Snape’s desk. “Well, I’ll leave you here, Professor. I suppose I’ll be seeing you around.”

“My classroom door is open.”

Rose then bid her teacher a good night for a second time, and made off into the dark corridors. When she arrived at the Gryffindor common room, where a number of her friends were lounging around, she was still in a tremendously good mood, and continued as such for the two hours that she sat up talking with Hermione and Harry about her curious new arrangements.

**~HP~**

Back down in his dungeon quarters, Severus kicked his legs up onto his sitting room sofa, a steaming cup of tea within reach. Already, he had started breaking off portions of the toffee chunk chocolate bar Rose had given him. The fabulous taste helped to ease his body into total limpness, not that the lasting effects of that little detention didn’t do that already.

It took quite a lot of courage to bring that particular conversation up with Rose. He had his suspicions about her behavior, but he could have been jumping to conclusions. He had a tendency to do that, apparently. He could have unintentionally offended her, thus ruining whatever chances he had left with her. It was a risk, much like shelling out on a piece of clothing that was grossly overpriced with no guarantee of acceptance. But both were obviously risks worth taking. Now Rose could come and go as she pleased, and he would welcome it. He had more time to get to know her for everything she was. Her presence would be the calm in his world that no one else was able to truly provide.

He would finally be able to sleep a little easier that night.


	30. Insecurities old and new

Severus ran his fingers through his hair as he dunked his head under the flow of hot water, his nostrils still filled with strong smell of his shampoo. Feeling the warmth working its way down his body, he massaged away the grease he had allowed to build up. It actually felt pretty good to have clean hair, no doubt much to the shock and disappointment of many an ignorant student. It was washing away a hard few days’ work. And since he would now be seeing much more of Rose, Severus had even more initiative to wash. She was a young girl, and young girls cared about appearances. And as humble as Rose was, it was probably still buried somewhere in that head of hers. After all, she took a lot of pride in her own looks. Her lively display over that jacket proved it; she knew how great she looked wearing it. And then there was one of Minerva’s favorite abiding memories; that of listening to a poor little ginger First year sobbing as large chunks of burnt hair were clipped off. Severus knew that he could never compare to someone of her beauty, but he could at least try and meet her halfway. Perhaps better cleanliness had the potential to capture a lady’s wandering eye.

Once the last of the suds had rinsed out, and his muscles free of tense knots, Severus shut the water off and reached for one of the thick towels that hung just outside the shower curtain. He took a bit of time to wipe away the moisture before wrapping the fabric around his hips. He pulled the curtain back with a sharp snap. He was about to open the door to his bedchambers to dress for the day, but by some impulse that he didn’t quite understand, he decided to quickly look into the rapidly defogging mirror. What he saw made his hand slide off the metal handle and fall to his side.

He had noticed the slight bulge at his lower waist while he was in the shower. At first, he blatantly denied that it was what he thought. But now that he was looking at his reflection, really getting a good look at himself, it was hard to write off as anything else. Hell, it was obvious from this angle! He was beginning to show. Severus’s heart sank as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

It was real now, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just some vague ailment anymore. It wasn’t simply few hard days of sickness and exhaustion. There was actual physical evidence now. The child was growing, and it was growing fast. He could hardly believe that in a few short weeks, this tiny thing had outgrown the confines of his body. And it was sobering to know that it was only going to get bigger. Reluctantly, Severus placed a hand to the spot, not taking his eyes off it in the glass.

He was nearly overcome by the onslaught of dread.

Hiding his condition was going to become more difficult from now on. His robes could cover up his body plenty well for a few weeks, but he would be working on borrowed time. If the child’s development continued at this rate, he could be using concealment charms by the holidays. Perhaps even sooner, to prevent any prying students from seeing anything they shouldn’t. He couldn’t handle the thought of a band of kids marching around, gossiping about how he was gaining weight. He knew his colleagues wouldn’t laugh at him, but what was actually stopping them? He thought about Draco, and then of Rose. Would they laugh at him? The mere fact that they were the only two students who really mattered to him made it that more disheartening. He didn’t want it to come to that, not with them…not with her.

But then, he couldn’t do a thing about it, could he?

Severus grabbed his worn dressing gown off the hook on the door and hastily wrapped it around his body. He tied it off at his waist, tugging the fabric in various places. Yes, the bump was very concealable. Even then, it was hard to tell that it was even there. All Severus could do as he left the bathroom was to repeat that to himself in his head, as many times as needed. No one would be seeing anything. Therefore, he didn’t have to think about it, not that he wanted to think about it much anyway. He had other things to occupy his thoughts that didn’t include the slow undoing of his body.

**~HP~**

“I don’t believe you, Rose,” said Ron, dodging the vines of the venomous tentacula he was working on. The absurd Herbology lesson that Professor Sprout had sicked on them was to clip off all of the leaves without getting stung or bitten, which was quite obviously easier said than done. People were jumping all over the place, a set of clippers in one hand, and a wand in the other. “Snape never asks for help from anyone, much less a student.”

Rose was standing to Ron’s right, focused on her overly active vicious plant while keeping one ear open. “He said it’s just a precaution for his health. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“Please, he doesn’t look that poorly anymore. And it still doesn’t explain your part in this, Rose.”

“Snape told me that he sees something in me as a potion maker. He thinks I should be getting more experience outside class. I’m not really helping him, just getting extra lessons if you will.”

“But I’ve never heard of that happening.” Ron firmly shook his head at that.

“Neither have I, actually,” said Hermione, who was working on Ron’s other side. She had her wand pointed directly at her plant. “ _Diffindo!_ From what I’ve heard, Snape doesn’t give remedial lessons unless they really need it.”

“They are not remedial lessons!” Rose stepped forward with her sharp clippers, but jumped to the side to avoid a sudden jet of venom, knocking into Neville in the process. He in turn collided with Parvati, and all three Gryffindors responded with a loud, “ _Shit!_ ” Professor Sprout was laughing as she instructed them to get back in line.

“You know something?” said Harry, watching Rose syphon up the venom on the floor with her wand. “You don’t get enough credit for how terrifically foolish you can be.”

“I don’t agree with that, Harry. But I guess the Slytherins don’t call me Barmy Beckett for nothing.”

Harry made a certain face, taking in both sides of Rose’s comment. He turned his visual attention back to his tentacula. “Alright, so maybe foolish isn’t the right word. But you’ve definitely got something. How else could you – _fuck!_ – how else could you fight your way into Snape’s circle?”

“I didn’t fight my way in,” said Rose. “I told you, it was Snape who brought up the idea. Hey, we don’t know what he’s done for older students in the past.”

“Even so, I doubt any of them had as interesting a history with him as you. How often do students go from hating Snape to admitting he’s a favorite teacher?”

Ron, who had just severed off several of his plant’s vines, suddenly stopped. He sharply turned his head to Rose. “Snape’s your favorite teacher?” he asked in a hushed, but still very bemused voice. Rose’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, but she rolled her eyes in an attempt to shake it off.

“He’s not my absolute favorite, but he’s up there,” she said as she finally got the chance to fire off her own Severing Charm. _‘Liar, liar! You are such a liar, Rose.’_

“Well, you obviously like him enough to practically be working for him,” Harry added.

“I’m working with him, not for him,” Rose defended, possibly with a little more force than was necessary. Hermione, having noticed a great deal of Rose’s growing favor for their Potions professor, turned to look at the Head Boy. “Right, and she would be stupid not to. Whether he needs any help or not, Snape obviously thinks highly enough of her that he would think to ask her. If someone offered me the chance to potentially get extra lessons, I wouldn’t pass that up.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Ron chuckled. He gave everyone a few minutes to start de-leafing their respective specimens before speaking up again. “It’s still really bizarre. Snape admitting he needs help is one thing. But for him to get that from a Gryffindor – you of all people – that just blows my mind. Really Rose, what did you do to change his mind about you?”

“I’ve done nothing but be myself,” said Rose, choosing not to look her friend in the eye. “Harry and Hermione have already heard this; Snape and I get along just fine when neither of us are pissed off. Actually, he’s a very reasonable bloke when you don’t try and provoke him.”

“I always assumed that we did that just by breathing.”

“Some of us, maybe.” Rose said this with a certain shake of the head that seemed to be directed at Harry. Hermione evidently didn’t find that very amusing. “Cut that out, Rose.”

Rose giggled, raising her eyes. “I’m playing, Mione. And even so, I don’t deliberately annoy any other professors. Why make an exception for Snape?”

“Good point,” said Ron. “It’s still mind-boggling though.”

“Don’t think too hard, Ron,” Harry chuckled, snipping off a fine specimen of leaf. “At this point, I think we ought to consider giving up on this whole figure-Snape-out thing, because we’re never going to get it.”

“Quite right,” Rose agreed. In her head, she was pretty relieved. Snape didn’t need such intense scrutiny from everyone around him, and she actually felt guilty that her friends were a part of that. In dissuading them from those nosey habits, she was defending the wizard that she admired so greatly, the man she felt some affection for.

“I have to ask, Rose. Just what do you see in Snape that’s got you bending to his will?”

_‘Why don’t you just call me weak to my face?’_ Rose silently challenged. She turned her body in Ron’s direction to look him in the face, and she lowered her voice for better discretion. “Well Ron, I happen to think that he’s a very respectable wizard who doesn’t get the credit he deserves.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve said that,” said the other ginger. “That much we know. But why do I feel like there’s more to it?”

Oh, so Ron was more perceptive than he often let on. Rose tried her best to keep her face straight, and her eyes free of any nervous twitches. “What exactly is it that you want me to say?”

“Why you are spending more time with Snape than with Wicker,” Harry spoke up. “You didn’t spend this much time with Burbage, for crying out loud. Anyone would wonder why you would prefer a ruddy git over one of those ladies.” Rose pressed her lips together as she shook her head.

“I didn’t expect much from either of you, with your personal experiences with Snape. He’s a git to you guys, but that doesn’t mean he’s that way with everyone.”

“You mean he’s nice to you when no one else is around,” said Ron, obviously stifling some bout of laughter.

“Don’t you dare laugh, Weasley,” Rose warned. “I told you he was reasonable.”

“Rose is right,” Hermione said, finally getting a word in for herself. “From what Rose tells me, he treats her pretty well when she stays in line.”

“Thank you Hermione for the help, and yes you two, I did say that. I also happen to like it a lot.”

“Why?” Ron asked, more curiously this time.

_‘Oh god, how do I describe that?’_ Rose shifted her gaze to the greenhouse’s glass ceiling for a moment’s thought before turning her eyes back onto her tentacula, speaking while she worked. “Well, it’s sort of the same reasons why I like Wicker, and Burbage before her. When I talk with Snape, he speaks to me like an equal of sorts. And he doesn’t dumb anything down for me. He knows that I know what I’m doing, and you know what? He actually tells me that. He makes me feel like I’m worth more than a few right answers, unlike others around here. I told you guys how I was hoping to find someone I could call a mentor. You can call me mad if you want, but I think that might be Snape.”

“But this is still Snape we’re talking about.”

“Yes Ron, I’m aware of that. But let me put it like this, do I look worried to you?” Rose gave the youngest Weasley brother a brief moment to shake his head. “Then you don’t have to keep warning me.”

At that moment, Sprout called out over everyone to stop what they were doing and hand in the leaves they had managed to retrieve. Everyone seemed to move with a certain edge of haste, probably because some of the plants had simply been stunned as opposed to having their nasty bits hexed off. And everyone could tell exactly whose plants they were because those folks were the first few out of the room. Harry and his friends handed their specimens into their professor in a much more casual manner before trotting off into the castle halls, bags and robes in hand.

“We’re just concerned for you, Rose,” said Harry. “I want to believe you when you say that Snape isn’t so bad, but you know how unpredictable he is. He’s always been that way. I personally don’t want to see you get too comfortable and then end up getting hurt.”

“I appreciate that, Harry, but I think I’m okay. At this point, I like to think I know Snape well enough that I’m ready for whatever he could dish out. I know how to handle myself, when to give up the fight. Besides, I think he’s already gone as low as he could go with me. As long as he leaves my parents out of it, he can say whatever he wants. It’s no matter, and he’s usually right anyway.” Rose smiled to herself, in spite of her company.

“You really do like the guy, don’t you?” Ron asked with an odd smirk. Rose chuckled in her throat. “Yes, I do. He might be the world’s slickest bastard to you, but to me, he’s just a man, and a great one at that. And you know, he’s a man that I want to know more about. There’s more to him than what the _Prophet_ will publish.”

Harry and Hermione also laughed, though whether at Ron’s face or Rose’s cheek was up for debate. Harry flashed a grin at them both. “Wonders never cease.”

“Oh shut up, you two,” Hermione said as she cut in front of her boyfriend to walk beside Rose. She wrapped her arm around the female redhead’s shoulders and tugged her into a curt little embrace. “It’s not Rose’s fault that you can’t completely shake that Snape’s-a-dungeon-demon thing.”

**~HP~**

Severus had never felt so uncomfortable around his colleagues. At least the students were relatively slow to notice when something was off. These people knew him on a much more intimate level. And if they saw something strange about him, they weren’t afraid to point it out to him. The Potions master was willing to bet the deed to his house in Yorkshire that the first person who would notice that he was gaining weight would have the title of professor.

He was sitting in front of the staffroom fire when out of the corner of his eye came Cassandra Wicker, wearing a royal-blue dress with a skin-tight bodice of all things. “Severus, I hoped to find you in here.” She continued to get closer and Severus tugged his robes around his torso in response.

“What do you want, Cassandra?”

“The strangest thing, really.” The Muggle Studies teacher perched herself on the edge of the sofa, folding her fingers in her lap. “So this morning, I ran into Rose Beckett in the halls outside my classroom, and she pulled me aside. I assumed that she had a thought about the reading I assigned yesterday. You could imagine how surprised I was when she asked me if I knew if you had any potions work for her tonight.” She turned to the not-so-greasy-haired wizard with a cock in her brow.

Severus swallowed, suddenly feeling that pressure that could only be brought on by scrutiny. “And just what did you say to her?”

“I told her that I would ask you. She’s coming by my office for tea after lunch, and I’m sure she would much appreciate an answer.”

Sweet Merlin, this woman knew how to make a man crawl in his skin! And the irony in it was that she probably had no idea that she was doing it. She didn’t sound as suspicious as she should have, but it was obvious that she was more than a little curious about her favorite student’s inquiry. Severus took a breath in, keeping his composure in face of teacher-on-teacher interrogation. “As a matter of fact, I do. I have a rather large order of Calming Draughts to brew, and I could use someone else manning a second cauldron. You can tell that to Beckett when you see her.”

“Absolutely Severus,” said Cassandra, beginning to play with the silky ends of her brown hair. “I would hate to disappoint the poor dear anyway. I would almost dare to say she was excited by the idea. She had such enthusiasm in her voice when she spoke to me. ”

“How do you know that’s not just the way she talks?” Severus asked, silently challenging the witch to see who knew Rose better after nearly two months of almost daily contact.

“Because I have seen her outside of class enough to know what she really sounds like, and in a variety of moods too.” Of course she has, Severus thought to himself. Then again, this was the woman who was now widely known to be Rose’s personal favorite. The simple fact had him feeling that slight sinking in his stomach. What did he have to do to one up Cassandra? If it was altering his personal style and abandoning his stern, scolding teacher’s voice, then he was forever screwed. Cassandra continued. “I have to ask you, Severus. I know Rose is quite enthusiastic in my class. Is she that way in yours?”

“More recently, she has,” said Severus, nodding his head. “It’s that interest combined with her skill that qualifies her to aid me with my extra work.”

“Really? You never seemed to be that fond of her before, and that’s not including that little screaming match last month. The kids call that the War of the Roses, do you know that? Anyway, I hardly imagined that she would be one of your picks for reliable students.”

“With all the time that I was made to spend with her, she’s grown on me. Calm her down and you can do what you like with her without complaint.”

“Oh why don’t you just say it? She’s a good kid. I’ve known that all along, and I’ve only known her since September. You have taught her for eight years, and I’ll bet you see that just as much as I do, if not more.”

Severus sighed, shaking his head. It was actually a bit disconcerting to think how very much like Rose she sounded there. How much influence did Wicker have on his darling Gryffindor? “Cassandra, you and I have only one thing in common. We both know that Beckett is zealous in her interests, and we both see imminent potential in that.”

Now the witch looked suspicious, but in a playful sort of way that suggested nothing other than utter flippancy. “Are you suggesting that you would coerce her into a career in Potions?” Just behind her, Severus saw Remus walk up on their little exchange. He turned his attention back to the terrifically annoying, obnoxiously outgoing Wicker.

“I don’t believe I said anything about that, although I would not be gutted if the girl did indeed decide to do that.”

“Don’t you dare try that, Snape,” said Cassandra, leaning closer to Severus’s face in mock warning. “She’s going into Muggle Relations where she belongs.”

“Arguing over Beckett, I see,” Remus abruptly jumped into the conversation. Severus was actually rather grateful that the werewolf thought it a good idea to get involved at that moment. Cassandra turned her body to look up at him. Her big brown eyes seemed to suddenly light up, and her smile got a little more relaxed. “Oh, hello Remus. Severus and I were just having a lively chat about her, that’s all.”

“Is that so? I thought I heard a little threat just now.” Remus looked rather amused as he stared down his nose at his female colleague.

“Oh, I’m being cheeky.” Cassandra bopped her head in the Severus’s direction. “He knows I’m kidding.”

_‘I do, now if you could just work on keeping your thoughts to yourself.’_ It also wouldn’t hurt if she moved over an inch or two. She was getting much too close for comfort. Severus once again adjusted how his robes fell across his body.

Remus took a few steps closer to the sofa, still looking at the dark brunette witch. “I hate to intrude, Cassandra, but there is a Third year outside who is asking for you. I told her that I would inform you at once.”

“Ah yes, that’ll be Abigail Waters.” Cassandra stood up and rubbed away non-existent wrinkles in the top half of her dress. Why she felt the need to do that, neither man could say. “I will pass your message on to Rose, Severus. And with that, I take my leave. Good day, lads.” She brushed past Remus with a smile so subtly bashful. The wizard watched her go and shook his head with a smirk.

“Lads…I swear sometimes she has no idea that we are both older than she is.”

“I don’t think she has a clue about a lot of things,” Severus drawled.

“Stop that, Severus. She’s not daft, just a bit flighty.”

“That’s your opinion.”

Remus sat down in the spot that Cassandra had just vacated. “So what was that about a message for Rose Beckett?”

“Just that I have some extra work tonight that may require her assistance. As I have said, she has more than proven herself capable. I already warned Minerva that I could potentially be borrowing her more often.”

“Glad to see that you two have finally made amends,” said Remus with a smile. “I’m also glad to see that you are finally taking the fragility of your condition seriously.”

Severus looked around to make sure that no one was around to overhear that. “Everyone else is doing their part, seems prudent that I do mine.” Remus looked down to see how Severus was gripping the length of black cloth around him.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” Severus sighed out. “All I say is that I can only take it one day at a time.”

“At least you’re taking it,” said Remus. He briefly looked back towards the door. “You know, if Cassandra bothers you, I could tell her to leave you alone if you want.”

“Cutting people out of my life won’t make pregnancy any easier,” said Severus, to which Remus nodded with a shrug. “I prefer to surround myself with people who help to counteract the insanity that plagues this castle.”

“Like Rose Beckett?” Severus looked back at Remus’s smugly curious face. The way word travelled from office to office, of course he wasn’t going to let that go quietly. Severus’s eyes thinned out. “Her and a number of other students, older ones mind you. Besides, if you were in my place, having a stubborn brat who bends to your will would sound pretty enticing to you too.”

“I think if it were me, I would appreciate that there is a pleasant student who is willing to help. It also doesn’t hurt that Rose is not one to ask too many questions.”

“Clearly Remus, you do not know Beckett that well. She pries just as much as anyone else. She just knows now when to keep her mouth shut, unlike that bonus son of yours.”

Remus chuckled. “I don’t believe Harry is that bad, but give him some credit. He’s trying to learn. After all, now he’s got two women breathing down his neck about what he should and shouldn’t say.”

**~HP~**

Just as he had told Cassandra that morning, Severus found himself that evening before his cauldron, brewing a large batch of Calming Draughts that were intended for the Hospital wing. Poppy seemed to think it was a good time to start getting together her Student-exam Survival Kit before that first Fifth year lost their mind in some terribly unpredictable fashion. He was not joking when he hinted that the order was large enough to require a second cauldron and an extra set of hands to better preserve time. And luckily for Severus, Cassandra was apparently a woman of her word.

Rose had her cauldron set up on the front most desk, and was currently letting the half-finished concoction simmer while she crushed a single moonstone with the broad side of her knife. “Is this right, Professor?” she asked as she looked up. Snape glanced over at the crumpled pearl-colored pile in front of Rose.

“Yes, exactly like that. Crush it any further, and the brew will be overly potent. Its purpose after all is to calm people, not render them emotionless.” He received a little nod and Severus went back to his work. He had positioned himself so that his own cauldron was directly in front of his abdomen, blocking it from Rose’s line of sight.

“Good point, sir,” Rose nodded. “And the Valerian buds –,”

“Must be as untouched as possible when they go into the cauldron. You are better off cutting them off the stalks right over the brim.”

“Is that what you do? I suppose that helps to make your Calming Draughts better than anyone else’s, right?”

Snape raised his eyebrows smugly. “I appreciate the flattery, but it just comes from years of experience. Superior expertise does not come without trial and error.”

“Please, you?” Rose giggled. “When have you ever made a mistake while brewing?”

“You know, I was once a First year too. I didn’t occur to me that I was good at this until a year or two later.”

Rose looked up at the Potions master in that intrinsically inquisitive way, causing an elation in the wizard that coaxed him to glance up at her in return. “Did you always know that you wanted to work with potions when you were a student?”  

Severus paused, taking in the question. That wasn’t something that he had to answer every day. Actually, very few people had been curious enough to ask. The general assumption was that his job was a matter of convenience, more for Lord Voldemort than for himself. That might have been true on the slightest part, but anyone who actually cared would know that there was more to it than that.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked carefully.

“Is there any harm in asking?” Rose asked back, delicately snipping little white flower buds off light stalks.

“No, there isn’t. It’s just…it’s just a bit unexpected. That’s not a question that students commonly ask.”

“No one else has asked you?” Rose wrinkled her brow, appearing rather bemused. “Hundreds of kids…that’s a bit sad.”

“Hardly,” said Snape. “If I tell a student anything about my youth and how I ended up in this monotony of a position, it is usually as a cautionary tale.”

The Gryffindor cocked her head. “I happen to think that a Hogwarts professorship is one of the most prestigious jobs in our world.”

“I wasn’t referring to that as much as to what led up to it,” Snape absentmindedly let his ebony brow arch. Realizing what he was referring to, Rose quickly rearranged the words in her mind. “Well, all wartime experiences aside, it’s still an interesting question. So tell me Professor, did you know that you would be a Potions master?”

Severus felt a wave of warmth creep in. So Rose had already shown her concern for his weakness, and then she went out of her way to give him a little token of appreciation. If Severus needed any more reason to believe that Rose cared for him, interest in his background – a background that had nothing to do with the Dark Lord – certainly counted. However, something kept his feet planted firmly on the ground. Kids of seventeen or eighteen years had a tendency to ask questions of that sort, usually as a result of their own impending careers.

“No Miss Beckett, I didn’t,” he explained. “I knew through most of my youth that I was proficient at this craft, but it wasn’t my first choice for work.”

“Oh,” said Rose with a certain child-like innocence. “So the rumors are true. You really did prefer the Dark Arts.”

“They are a bit more than rumor from what I have heard,” Severus said with a slight sneer. “I’m actually surprised that you would even ask.”

“Forgive me if I thought they might have been wrong. They weren’t kidding when they said that you applied for the Defense against the Dark Arts job on a yearly basis, were they?”

“Oh no, that rubbish was concocted by meddling, bitter children. I might have thrown my name out there each time the position was vacated, but I never went that far.”

The Gryffindor stared up, studying Snape’s face. “I don’t know, Professor. There’s a certain look in your eye that suggests otherwise.”

“You have obviously been reading too much of the _Prophet._ ” Snape cocked his head at Rose.“I wouldn’t be surprised if your horrendously annoying friends helped to shove that around.”

“Not as much as you think,” Rose said, wagging a thin finger at her professor. “And they’re not horrendously annoying. Out of curiosity, just what was it about the Dark Arts that intrigued you so?”

“Miss Beckett, you know that I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to,” said the Potions master, shaking his head.

“Why?” the student quietly challenged while disposing of the remnants of the Valerian plant.

“Because you have no reason to know of such dark magic in that way. You are far too decent for that. Besides, I had other reasons that I don’t wish to disclose just yet, even if it is just you here.”

Delicate lips parted from a slightly agape mouth, Rose nodded. “I understand, sir. Don’t blame you either. A reputation like that has to start somewhere.”

“Which reputation?” asked Snape.

“That you knew curses that could turn our innards inside-out if you caught us cheating on our exams.” The student let out a sigh of relief when she heard Snape chuckling in his throat. He looked directly at her, letting go of the glass rod in his hand. “If I knew such a curse, I assure you that there are others out there more deserving of it than a bunch of cheating whelps.” A touch of pink crept into Rose’s pale, freckled cheeks, and she smiled.

Across the way, Snape smirked in return. He reached for the ladle set out beside his cauldron and began to bottle his finished potion. All the while, he kept one eye open to Rose. He watched her gently add touches of lavender leaves to her cauldron, and then very carefully stir the lightening brew six times around clockwise. The whole time, her brow was high, and her posture was laid-back. She appeared to be enjoying herself, for which Severus was most pleased.

“So when did you switch over to potion making for a living? Was it after You-know-who was defeated the first time?”

_‘Way to ignore the manticore in the room,’_ Snape thought, referring to his Death Eater years. “You say that like it was one simple decision. I will admit it to you; yes, the Dark Arts was a passion of mine when I was a boy. But it was more of a personal passion than a source of revenue to me. At the same time, I did not ignore my other subjects.”

“Obviously you didn’t,” said Rose. “You are one of the most accomplished wizards I know.”

“Oh, enough of the flattery, Beckett,” said Snape, almost spilling potion over his fingers.

“Because you don’t deserve it?” Rose walked around the table to grab a second ladle for herself. She stuck her finger out to her teacher. “I have only one thing to say to that, Professor Snape. Hogwash!”

“You are too much.” Snape gently pushed that hand down, and Rose slowly made her way back over to her spot. The dark-haired wizard shifted where he stood, diverting attention to the bottle in his hand. The young witch meanwhile was trying to control the butterfly that had just started flying around her stomach. Did Snape just touch her? She sighed away the flush of warmth, the warmth that had nothing to do with her bubbling cauldron. Steading her hands, she carefully scooped up her little pile of crushed moonstone and sprinkled it over her potion. Four more anti-clockwise stirs, and her Calming Draught was light blue and finished. She reached for her first of a set of bottles.

“You still haven’t told me how you came to be here at Hogwarts,” she reminded.

“So I haven’t,” said Snape, a bit sarcastically. “Well if you are that desperate to know. Like you, I realized that I had a particular talent for brewing, among other things.” This was said with a certain sneer; Snape knew exactly how powerful he was overall. “And like you, I worked hard at it. Even after I joined the Dark Lord’s ranks, I continued to work on potions.”

“Did you ever apprentice under someone else?”

“For a short time, yes. But I am one of those wizards who generally prefer to do things on my own, especially at that age. After the Dark Lord disappeared, I applied for the Defense against the Dark Arts position, as I’m sure you already know.”

“But Dumbledore didn’t want to give it to you.” Snape looked up at Rose with a wrinkled, black brow. The Gryffindor shrugged her shoulders, quickly correcting herself. “I read it in the papers. They interviewed him a while back.”

Snape shook his head. “Hmm, doesn’t surprise me a bit. In any case, the headmaster thought I was more than qualified to teach Potions, and I just accepted it. Eighteen years later, here I stand. I’m sorry that I don’t have something more exciting to tell you.”

“That’s alright, Professor,” said Rose. “Just wanted to hear it from you instead of someone else.”

“I doubt I have done anything but confirm everyone’s suspicions that I only took the job because it was convenient.” Snape lowered his dark eyes to his potion. But he was drawn back by Rose’s shaking head, her swaying red hair.

“I don’t know” she said. “Something seems to say that wasn’t your intention. Besides, whoever suspected that only did so because they thought you were still spying for You-know-who.” The Potions master sighed reluctantly. “Do you have a habit of interrogating teachers?”

“Only the ones that I find inspiring. It wasn’t that many years ago that I asked Professor Burbage the same questions. Believe me, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care.”

That was when Snape stopped pouring. The conversation had suddenly taken a turn for the personal on his part. And Rose, as innocent as she acted, seemed to know where she was treading. And yet there was no malice. She wanted to keep the conversation going because she genuinely wanted to know.  She was truly interested in what he had to say, where he came from.

What was she getting at?

“You are right,” he said. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what was?” asked Rose.

The professor set his ladle and bottles aside and leaned on the top of his desk. “It’s not easy to explain. Actually, I haven’t had many opportunities to even try to explain where I’m coming from.” Rose giggled. “Sir, I’m eighteen. I’m lucky if I have a conversation with another kid that’s even remotely eloquent. And hey, I’m not always the best at explaining myself.” Snape’s gaze turned inward, and he let go of a soft sigh.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t always know what profession I wanted, but I did always know what I really wanted to do.”

“And what was that?”

“I was like you. I wanted to do something great, something that would leave my mark on the world. You understand that, I’m sure.” Rose nodded her head with an _aww_ -like smile. She also put down her implements and walked around the desk to lift herself up onto the surface. Snape continued. “Before you start smiling like that, you should know that it wasn’t for any charitable reasons. I never had any of what you had when I was growing up. I never had support from anyone. Unlike you, I was never treated like I had any real worth.”

“No?” Rose asked with a certain hitch in her voice.

“No,” Snape reaffirmed with a slow shake of his head.

The young woman stared down at her hands, her blue eyes turned inward so that they lost their twilight shine. After a moment’s reflection, she glanced back up, a new seriousness in her face. “Is it true…what Harry said about you and his father? Did James Potter pick on you in school?”

“Incessantly,” said Snape, his hands tensing on the desk at the memory. “And he wasn’t the only one either. By the time we were sixteen, he seemed to have elected himself their ring-leader. I don’t care what Potter has told you in describing his father. That man was an arrogant, thick-headed prat who sought nothing more than to make my life hell. And if that wasn’t enough, he set into motion a reputation that would follow me for the rest of my life.”

“I sympathize with you, sir,” said Rose. “But you don’t exactly help yourself by being so nasty to people.”

“You think that I just do that to people?” Snape asked with a hint of disbelief. “And I thought you knew me. I was a kid who was being bullied for hardly any reason. You can imagine what that can do to a child. I had to defend myself somehow. It’s like how you get snippy when Parkinson and Malfoy corner you in the halls.”

“But that was just James Potter. What about everyone else, those of us here today?”

“I wish I could explain it to you, Beckett. It’s very complicated, and I don’t wish to burden you with something that you had nothing to do with.” Severus lowered his gaze away from Rose. Nobody needed to know the depth of his rage, no matter how badly he wanted to speak his mind. All the various parties involved were dead, it didn’t matter anymore. “In the end, it didn’t matter anyway. Even if I had wanted to try and interact with people, Potter had already done what he could to deter them.”

“If you had wanted to?”

“I wasn’t always this articulate, Miss Beckett. I was actually rather – you would say – awkward when I was a boy.”

Rose nodded her understanding. “It took you a while to learn people skills, didn’t it?”

“Some might argue that I still haven’t,” Snape sneered. “What can I say for myself? When I had chances, I ruined them. If it wasn’t one mistake, it was another. And now I have to live with that. Old women in Diagon Alley, hissing little brats in the halls, distrustful, hex-happy Aurors…I have to ignore all of them as I try to go about my business.”

“But that wasn’t true all the time,” suggested Rose. “You must have had friends.”

The Potions master felt a tightness growing in his chest. Friends…could he really say that he had them one time? The only one who was ever a true friend to him was Lily. The others he only hung around with in his attempts to move up the social ladder, attempts that were really made in vain. If Rose knew that he was part of a group in school, she most likely also knew just who they would eventually become. “Understand that most of them were not the most sincere of people. And those who were, I ended up sabotaging my relationships with them for one reason or another.”

“Oh…but you had to have someone behind you, at home, professors maybe?”

“My parents didn’t exactly look at me as though I were the second coming, not that they were the type to do that in the first place. Not pleasant people, my parents. But then, that doesn't surprise you much, does it?” Snape allowed Rose a split second to shake her head with a smirk. “And as far as teachers went, Slughorn did see _something_ in me, I suppose. He had to since I didn’t score anything below an A- in his class. But there was always someone better, someone with better connections.”

“Tell me about it,” Rose agreed with a groan-like sigh. “I was mad that I got passed up simply because he remembered my dad’s lackluster performance in school. I was near the top of my class in Potions, but that suddenly didn’t seem to matter so much.”

“You see what I mean then,” said Snape. He finally decided to move out from behind his cauldron, and he came around the desk to lean on its front side. However, he still crossed his arms across his torso, hoping to draw Rose’s attention away from his middle. “With all of that, there was nothing I wanted more than to prove all of them wrong. I wanted to show them that I was someone worth recognizing. Frankly, I wanted to astound them.”

“And I’ll bet you knew you could do exactly that,” Rose said with a knowing smile. Her eyes were reflecting the candlelight again. Snape just barely resisted the urge to smirk. “I did. Every year when I arrived here, I kept telling myself that those people who picked on me would one day be sorry that they ever thought to do that. I knew that I had more to offer than what I was given credit for. Oh yes, I knew I could do something great. I just didn’t know what it was, and I made a lot of mistakes searching for it.”

“Like joining the Death Eaters?”

Snape paused, caught slightly off-guard. Rose was also quiet, looking rather apologetic for having said that. But it was a legitimate claim, and it wasn’t like he could lie about that. “Yes, but looking back on that, I am not proud of it. Regardless of what people have said about me, I do regret it. If I hadn’t joined the Dark Lord’s ranks, then at least I could have had a better shot at the respect that I desired.” The Gryffindor nodded.

“I don’t think you should get so hung up on it,” she said. “And do you know why I say that, Professor? It’s because I think you are wrong. You don’t give yourself enough credit, forget about everyone else. From my perspective, I see a wizard who has made his mark. I was just saying to my friends that you have to be one of the best Potions masters in Britain, maybe even Europe. You perfected the brewing of the Wolfsbane Potion; I know how bloody hard that is to make. From what I’ve heard, you are a superb Occlumens. Not everyone can do that. And on top of all of that, you risked your life to help save our world. If you ask me, with that kind of history, the sky’s the limit.”

“Your words are comforting, but they are still the words of an eighteen year-old girl.”

“You’re impossible,” Rose chuckled. “Professor Snape, you know how powerful you are. You know your achievements. And sooner or later, everyone else will too. Our world will love and respect you as they should, mark my words. And if they can’t get past a few sharp words, your temper problems on a bad day, then fuck them! In my opinion, you are way better than that.”

Snape shook his head, ignoring the impulse to deduct points for Rose’s foul choice of words. “I hate to agree with a Gryffindor, but you took the words right out of my mouth.” Rose slowly swung her legs through the air as she smiled. Her eyebrows twitched in a way as eye-catching as it was swift. “Well, they do say that great minds think alike.”

The wizard felt his heart do a quick flip. Rose had never looked at him like that before. The beautiful blue in her eyes seemed to pop when she did, shimmering in the dim light. Such beauty combined with shameless praise was making her irresistible. Severus noticed her hands resting on her lap. He had touched one of them once, but longed for a second chance. She was sitting directly across from him, but he still wanted to be closer.

“I still don’t quite understand how you can tell me these things when you don’t seem to have the most confidence in yourself. People have gotten to you just as much, you’ve told me so.”

“Actually Professor, it was something you said,” said Rose. “I know exactly how you feel. In my village, I was the odd one out. I still am when you think about it. I wanted renown just as badly as you did, to show them what I could do. But you said that when it came down to it, it didn’t matter what anyone thought of me. I am what I am, and I’m satisfied with that. And I’m not going to let anyone drag me down. If I ever were to be as famous as Harry one day, it’ll be because of that. I’m not going to change to get the right kind of attention, and neither should you. You’ve already done so many great things, the possibilities are endless.”

Snape was quiet for a long moment, but then he took a deep breath in and sighed. “You are probably right. The headmaster did do enough vouching for me in those first few weeks after the Dark Lord’s defeat. I suppose he thought he had a good reason.”

“He did,” Rose smiled again. “Those ignorant berks will come around, they just need time. Even Harry and Ron are starting to soften up. If they can’t change their perceptions of you, I don’t know who can.” She carefully slid off the desktop and approached Snape. Gently, she tapped his chest with her index finger. “They might be laughing and sneering at you now, but there’ll come a day when they will be cheering for you.”

“You Gryffindors are always so sentimental,” said Snape. “But you do have a way of lightening someone’s mood when they need it. I’ve rather underestimated you, Beckett.”

Rose giggled in her throat. “If I ever get my own Chocolate Frog card, I want that written on the back…and you’re welcome.”

“You’re still young, you’ll get there one day. Just as long as you don’t lead the charge to reintegrate our world and the Muggle world, you could very well get there.”

A glance over Rose’s shoulder reminded Snape that they both had half a cauldron’s worth of Calming Draught that needed bottling. He gently nudged Rose out of the way and returned to his place behind his desk. The action of once again grabbing hold of the ladle and bottles urged Rose to do the same. She turned her back to her professor and went back to her cauldron. Snape tried to keep his attention on his work, but the Gryffindor was never far from his thoughts. He underestimated her weeks, months, years before. He saw her with new eyes, and he saw just how amazing she was. And it only took him a little under a month to actually voice that to her. Those enticing looks he got cancelled out any feelings of regret.

Across the way, Rose was silently keeping her quickened breath controlled while her heart rapped at her breast. Her cheeks would be sore for a few hours because of the tremendous smile that was hidden by the shadows.


	31. A little heart

“I must say Severus, I am impressed,” said Poppy as she sat down beside Severus on his hospital bed. He was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. “Your condition has improved drastically since the last time I saw you. Just looking at you tells me that!” Poppy spoke with leveled calm, though her gaze seemed to be gravitating towards his middle with a certain eagerness.

Severus couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. It was moments like this that made him wish that he could hide the growing swell from her just as much as anyone else. “When you have enough people badgering you to take care of yourself, it seems prudent to listen to them after a while.”

“Oh come now, dear. I know it means more to you than that. I’m happy to see that you are doing your best for the baby, I really am! It certainly helps that your morning sickness has let up significantly. Have you been eating more like I told you?”

“Yes I have, mostly because Albus won’t let me go hungry for longer than three hours.” And he wasn’t going to turn any of it away. Severus noticed in the last few days that his overall appetite had increased, beyond his bizarre chocolate cravings. In the past, a single serving sufficed just fine. Now he found himself occasionally reaching for second helpings. “I will say it is nice to actually get to eat again, without worrying about getting sick.”

The Mediwitch nodded with a curt smile. “Very good, and remember that you should be drinking more milk, at least four glasses a day.”

“It’s a nauseating thought, but yes, I am trying.” He wasn’t kidding when he said that. He had never been a big fan of milk, particularly in his adult life. The last time he drank that much on a daily basis had to be when he himself was a small child, an infant perhaps! He didn’t want to ignore Poppy’s orders; he didn’t want to harm his unborn child. But half a gallon of that bland liquid every day took a lot of getting used to, especially since a few certain old women had talked him into giving up his morning coffee in favor of it. They worked together, Poppy and Minerva!

“You had better do more than try. The baby needs plenty of calcium, especially in these early stages.” Severus finally got the last of his buttons out of their holes, and he lay back onto the bed. He wasn’t as cautious as he had been in the previous weeks. These semi-regular checkups had become a routine of sorts, and he had gotten reacquainted with Poppy’s touch. The witch turned her body to better face him before she gently spread his shirt apart to uncover his abdomen. “Speaking of which, I had better check to see how the little one is doing.”

Severus was just about biting his lip as Poppy slowly ran her hands over his stomach, very gently prodding as she went. She tried to make light conversation of the examination. “It must be pretty exciting now that you are starting to fill out.” The motionless Potions master stopped himself just short of a growl, instead letting out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if exciting is the right word when filling out eventually becomes being reduced to a bloated, slow-moving monstrosity.”

“Now Severus,” Poppy lightly reproached. “Gaining weight is perfectly natural, and if you ask me, it’s about time you put on a few extra pounds. You needed it years ago, before any of this happened.”

“It’s beyond me how you can still use the word _natural_ ,” said Severus. “There is nothing natural about this pregnancy.”

“Not as much as you would think.” A wave of Poppy’s wand produced a quill to take down her findings in Severus’s medical file, sprawled open on the table beside the door. “I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the library, I’m sure Albus has told you. I haven’t yet found anything on the spell that You-know-who could have used on you, but I have managed to scrounge together some pages from old medical journals. There was one healer back in the late fifteenth century that treated a wizard who turned up with a cake in the cauldron. He never knew what caused it, but by all perspectives, it was a normal pregnancy. The baby developed just as it would if it were a female pregnancy.”

Severus arched his brow slightly. “Somehow, I don’t believe it was that easy,” he said. Poppy’s face faltered just a touch. “Well no, it wasn’t. There were complications with handling the male body, especially during the baby’s delivery. They almost lost the child, and the poor lad ended up contracting a raging infection. The healer wrote that potions just barely saved his life. I also found some notes about another wizard from an earlier time who carried a child to term, but in the end he gave birth to a stillborn baby, and he died soon after from massive hemorrhaging.”

“What made you think I would be comforted to know all that?” Severus said, a little more rigidity in his tone.

“I’m only telling you what I know,” said Poppy. “Besides, that was during a time when most women had a fifty percent chance of coming out of childbirth alive. There have been plenty of advancements in Medical Magic since then.” She slowly waved her wand over Severus, and he felt the tingling sensations of her diagnostic charms. “And for now, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Your baby’s development is coming along just fine.”

“For curiosity’s sake, how big is the fetus?”

“It’s about that long, I’d say.” Poppy held up her littlest finger. “It won’t stay that way for long though. Your robes are going to be put to the test to see how long until you need Filius’s help.”

“I can handle my own Glamour Charms just fine, thank you very much.” Severus shook his head in his own pride.

“I don’t doubt that, dear,” said Poppy with a smirk. She rose to her feet to stand over the younger wizard, who was starting to push himself up. “Don’t move just yet, Severus. I have one more test I need to perform. Wait until you hear this.”

Poppy pointed the tip of her wand at the bulge at Severus’s middle, and very slowly waved it in a small circle without as much as a whisper. Severus lay still, waiting, not feeling a thing. But then his breath went still when he heard the soft _whoosh-whoosh-whoosh_ that had suddenly filled the small hospital room. He felt his chest muscles tighten.

“Is…is that…?”

“Yes Severus, that’s the baby’s heartbeat,” Poppy smiled down at him. “And it’s good and strong!” She allowed both Severus and herself a few long minutes to listen and take in that swift little noise. But the visibly delighted Mediwitch was quite unaware of the quiet anxiety that was clenching Severus’s heart. It took nearly everything he had to maintain his straight face.

Soon enough, Poppy waved her wand in the opposite direction, and the little heartbeat dissipated into silence. She leaned over and patted Severus’s stomach. “If I know one thing, it’s that you have got yourself a very healthy baby in there. You should be proud of yourself, Severus.”

To Severus, the elderly witch’s praise was mute. As soon as she moved away from the bed to review his file, his hand came up to cover his bump. It was one thing to know that there was this tiny form growing inside him, distorting his body. It was another thing entirely to listen to the sound of its heart. Suddenly, it wasn’t some inanimate thing anymore. That little sound made it seem more human. For the first time since his condition was discovered, it dawned on Severus that he really was nurturing a new life.

The baby, his child, really was there…and it was alive.

**~HP~**

“Professor Snape, are you alright?” asked Rose, looking up from the array of jars and packages set out in front of her. The Potions master had politely requested that she take all of the ingredients that were scattered about his classroom and re-alphabetize them on their proper shelves. Snape meanwhile was sitting at his desk, attempting to use some insignificant paperwork as a means of distraction.

“I’m fine, Miss Beckett,” he said, his voice low. Fine, as fine as he could be anyway. “Why do you ask?”

“You just seem really distant, like your mind is somewhere else.” The quiet, earnest concern in Rose’s tone didn’t lessen, even as she turned her back to set a jar of ginger root on a high shelf.

His mind couldn’t have been farther from that room, from everything around him. It seemed that whenever he found himself in any sort of relative silence, he still could hear the baby’s heart beating in his ears. Who would have thought that such a small noise could be so consequential? Now he found himself revisiting all of his supposed plans for the future. He knew that he would be giving up a child in the end, but now it actually felt like there was way more to it. There was more to lose now; it wasn’t just any child he was carrying. If there was one word to describe Severus’s cluttered head, it was confused. Even Rose’s appearance to him after dinner didn’t help. Her presence was calming, warm, and all he really wanted for his evenings, but there was only so much she could do to keep his thoughts off his condition. If he could only trust her to keep her mouth shut about his pregnancy. That way she could be of the most help that her sweet little heart could hope to provide. As much as he cared for her, Severus still had the capacity to know that was just not possible.

“I have a lot on my mind tonight,” Severus explained. For once, he tried to keep his gaze away from Rose’s enchanting eyes. He didn’t want to worry her any more than he already had, although whether it was for her sake or his was a little cloudy.

“Would it be too much to ask what it is?” asked Rose.

_‘Oh, just that I’m having a baby that I was going to give up at birth, and now I don’t know what I’m going to do with it,’_ Severus callously thought to himself. Since Rose was waiting for an actual answer, the wizard shook the black hair out of his face and said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?” Rose went on, causing Severus to look up at her. There was a noticeable wrinkle in her light brow, which was enhanced by the shadows. “I’m sorry Professor, but it’s the look on your face. You’re killing me over here.”

“You just cannot resist, can you? You and I might be on friendlier terms, but that doesn’t mean you are entitled to anything.”

“I know that, sir. But you looked so down that I just thought that I’d give you the chance to say something.”

“That’s very kind of you, but it’s not something that I can speak of easily with anyone, let alone you.”

“You’re not dying, are you?” Rose asked out of the clear blue, taking Snape by shocked surprise. “What? No.”

The Gryffindor sighed with relief. “That’s good to know. I knew that was just a stupid rumor.” Severus shook his head at her before letting his eyes fall back down to the parchment before him. “You know better than to believe everything that you hear in your common room.”

“I do, but it’s like what Harry says. We never can tell with you.” Rose realized her mistake as she watched Snape’s face get longer as she spoke. She set aside the package of knotgrass in her hand and walked up the length of the room toward Snape’s desk. “I’m sorry, Professor. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“That’s alright,” said the Potions master. He took the quill in his hand and placed it back into its well. He also pushed the stack of parchment off to the side. He knew that he couldn’t focus, so what was the point in even trying?

Rose found her way to her favorite sitting spot, and hoisted herself up onto that desk. She leaned in over herself, resting her elbows on her thighs. “Come on, Professor. What’s going on? You know I won’t say anything.”

Severus thought hard. Rose wanted to help, but she wasn’t allowed to know what the problem really was. The truth be told, she was probably better off not knowing. But still Severus wanted for her to comfort him in that way that he had come to desire. There had to be another explanation for his dispirited state, an explanation that she could understand without having to dig too deep.

“It isn’t any one particular thing, Miss Beckett. It hardly ever is one thing. But you shouldn’t have to listen to my ramblings. It’s more than you need to know.”

“But I don’t want to know for me. I want to know because you need to get it off your chest. Professor, I’ve never seen you like this. I don’t like it either.”

“It’s difficult to explain…”

“Then try your best.” Rose leaned over further, somehow staying on top the desk. “I’m listening.”

Severus took a deep breath in, using the moment to gather together his thoughts so that he may produce a believable excuse. “I’m just frustrated with the state of my life. I already told you how the war has left it in shambles. I hate to admit it, but I still have days where I struggle to adjust. Today happened to be one of those days.”

“How so?” asked Rose, her voice quite small.

“That’s private,” said Severus. Rose nodded, obviously not wanting to push harder for an answer. “All I will say is that it’s my fault that I have such a hard time these days. I anticipated that I would have changes to adapt to, but I just wasn’t ready for them. I could go on for days about how the rest of the world is attempting to make my life miserable, but at the end of the day, I couldn’t be more frustrated with anyone than myself.”

Rose frowned. “Aww Professor Snape, I know how that feels. I think a lot of us could sympathize actually. None of us came out of the war unscathed. We all had something to lose.”

“Yes, but did you realize that beforehand? Were you prepared to lose everything you had? Did you think of where you would find yourself after the fact?”

“Well…yes and no. At least that’s the way it was for me. When I left for school last year, I knew that I might have left Meadow Hill for the last time. I knew there was a chance that I would never see my mother again. I knew that I could have died at any time for any reason, and I was ready for it if the time came. But…but it never crossed my mind that I would escape with my life but lose my friends in the process.” A certain glimmer seemed to appear in the corner of Rose’s eye, and her words got harder like they were caught in her throat. “I didn’t think that Natasha and Jonny would up and leave like they did. I never thought…I never thought there was such a possibility…to lose all of them. Talk about big adjustments, that was a huge blow!”

Severus listened carefully, picking up on the subtle change in Rose’s demeanor. It seemed like she was beating around some unseen bush, that she wasn’t telling him the full and honest truth. And whatever it was, it was obviously upsetting to her. But she was telling him something. She didn’t press him for information, and so he would not to the same to her. “And so what did you do?”

“I just trudged on,” said Rose, blinking away the glimmer. “I didn’t think I could make it without…without my friends. I was miserable over the summer. I’ll be honest with you, Professor. I was that close to giving up on Hogwarts. But then my mum sat me down and had a long talk with me. She knew I was having a hard time, but she didn’t want to watch me waste away on that sofa.”

“What did she say?” Given what he had heard of Rose’s mother, Severus was curious about this.

“She told me that I had to move on with my life. Shit happens, yes. There’s no denying that. But I couldn’t let that stop me. It was awful in those first few weeks, but that didn’t mean it would be that way forever. My mum talked about how things were for her when I was little, how she went through bad times back then. But she said that it would get better, even if it took a world of work to get there.”

“And you listened to her,” said Severus. “This is the same women who you once referred to as a lunatic?”

Rose giggled just a tiny bit, raising her eyebrows. “It had to be her most lucid moment to date. But she was right. You can’t let life get you down, because _sooner or later_ , it will improve.” She smiled at Severus, enchanting him from across his desk.

“So now you’re ready for whatever life has to throw at you.”

“Most of it, yes. I mean, now that You-know-who is gone for good, what’s the worst that could happen?” Rose slid off the desk and straightened her skirt. Severus watched her return to her disorderly collection in the back.

It certainly made a lot of sense. He remembered how important those particular former students were to Rose. He recalled how many times he came across them in the halls, how she hardly ever travelled without at least one of them. So it was foolish to think that their desertions would go unnoticed. And yet, Rose still carried on. She found new friends, she reacquainted herself with the staff, and she got herself back on track to a career. If she could come back from that, then she could possibly do it again. But Severus still wasn’t totally convinced.

“Take it from me, Miss Beckett. You are still young, and there are a great many things that life can try to screw you over with.”

“Name one,” Rose challenged, and Severus was perfectly willing to accept. This was his one window of opportunity to get out his real concerns in a somewhat ambiguous manner. “Alright, Miss Beckett, you asked for it. Let’s say – purely hypothetically – that you accidently became pregnant.”

Rose flinched, shooting Snape a bemused look. Her brow contorted as she processed his statement. She was quiet for a long moment before she finally shook her head and said, “You’ve seen it happen to that many students?”

_‘Oh thank God!’_ Severus proclaimed silently. She took the bait! “I have seen it enough times for it to come to mind. But never mind that. What would you do if you found yourself in that situation?” Rose put away a wrapped package of porcupine quills and then turned to face the Potions master.

“Well…goodness, what would I do? If I found myself pregnant – which would be strange considering I’m single – I would take a good, long look at my life, and then I would try and figure out how a baby could fit into it.”

“Just like that?” said Severus. He was astounded by the coolness in the girl’s voice. “Forgive me for thinking that’s a little naïve, but if that were to happen to you so suddenly, I doubt it would be that simple.”

“Well you know Professor, if I did have a bun in the oven, I wouldn’t exactly be innocent in the matter. I would have to take some kind of responsibility for my actions.”

_‘But what if you had no say in it?’_ How desperately Severus wanted to ask her, but everything was holding him back! If he got too specific, then she would get suspicious. Frustration rose up as caution battled with his longing for her to win dominance in his being. But ultimately, he had to keep his condition a deep dark secret. He couldn’t risk Rose even getting a vague idea. Even if she would keep it to herself, the last thing Severus wanted was for her view of him to change because he gave her a weird feeling.

“Even if you were still a student?” he asked her, the only thing he thought appropriate to say. Rose nodded her head. “Even if I were still a student.”

“But you have your whole life ahead of you. What if someone told you that the right thing would be to give the child up for adoption?”

“I would tell them to go fuck themselves because I would never do that.”

“Alright Miss Beckett, watch your language,” said Severus. He would regret this, but it was the rules, and a lady didn’t have to talk like that. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

“Sorry sir,” said Rose, sighing her surrender. “But mean it. I could never give up a child. I don’t care how many people tell me that it would be the best idea.”

“Why?”

Rose trotted up to the front of the classroom again, this time choosing to lean her on top of Snape’s desk. “That’s easy. It’s because that would be my child. It’s like what my mum says about me, nothing can take that away. I couldn’t bear the thought of giving it away to someone else! If anyone is going to be raising my child, it’s going to be me!”

“What if it came at the expense of your career or your social life?” Severus leaned in closer, propped up on one forearm.

“That’s why I would have to rethink my life. There could be a way to have a family and a career at the same time. It’s not like it’s impossible. And as for my social life, I would have to consider a lot of things. The only people who I would want around me would be people who would support me, and not pass any kind of judgment. And if they were willing to help me, that’s a plus. Hypothetically speaking, I think I’ve got a pretty good batch of friends if I did get into that kind of trouble. We are still being hypothetical, right?”

Severus nodded. He had a hard time looking her in the eye again; her honesty almost hurt. But there was still one more thing he had to know. “In that sort of predicament, wouldn’t you be afraid?”

Rose nodded slightly, glancing down at her hands on the desk. “I would be, yes, although I wouldn’t have anything more to fear than those church-going relatives of mine.” She offered the wizard a cheeky little smile. “I know that having a baby is a huge change, so yeah, of course I would be scared. Who wouldn’t be? But I would try my best to prepare myself for it mentally. After all, nine months is a long time to think things through.”

“That it is,” said Severus with a sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were planning on getting pregnant by year’s end.”

“Oh no, sir!” Rose laughed hard. “I might not be seeing anybody now, but if I were, I wouldn’t go and do such a stupid thing. I would at least like to get out of Hogwarts before popping out any kids.”

“Indeed,” said Severus, sinking back into his seat. He felt those troubling emotions creeping back in, though he tried hard to show as little of it as he could to Rose, just inches away from him. But being that close, of course she would see a touch of it in his face. Rose reached out her hand and laid it flat on the wooden surface so that she almost touched Severus’s arm.

“So you see,” she said. “Life will do that to you. It tosses out the most unexpected things at the most inopportune times, and they’re not always good things. But you have to learn to roll with those punches. It’s like me getting pregnant. It could happen now, it could happen ten years from now. It would still be catastrophic at first. But still, I couldn’t do a thing about it, could I? And also, there would be a silver lining in that particular situation. So I would work hard to see it. It has to be easier than what happened this year. Think about it, Professor. I didn’t expect that I would have to start all over again with different friends, new teachers, and a further broken family. Life as I knew it was over! And yet here I am, trying my best to build a new life for myself, no matter how hard that might be.”

“That’s very admirable of you.” The Potions master glanced out of the corner of his deep, black eye to catch sight of those stunning blues staring straight at him. He shuddered to see her hand so near, wanting her fingers to inch just a little closer.

“It’s what works for me. If you ask me, it could work for you too. I cannot imagine what you have been through the last few months. But there has to be some good in it somewhere. I think if you learn to see that, then you won’t be so unhappy. I mean, if you survived an attack like that, it had to be for good reason.”

**~HP~**

Severus stretched out on the sofa in his small sitting room. One hand was cushioning the back of his head while the other rested very gently on top of his slightly raised stomach. He had actually been there for the better part of two hours, and the nearly finished cup of chamomile tea on the table beside him was a testament to that. But then, he couldn’t do much else. He couldn’t write, he couldn’t read, and he certainly couldn’t sleep. All he could do was ponder everything that was doing nothing for him but bringing on what was surely to be a hell of a headache.

Rose was right. She had no idea that she was right, but she was still right all the same. Severus knew that she had been trying to lift his spirits. What she ended up doing was helping him to realize that all he had been doing for weeks was trying to escape what was happening to him. Even when he presented his very problem to her, she laid out a plan to make it work. And strangely enough, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. It was almost as though Minerva had rehearsed it with her beforehand.

So it was possible, wasn’t it? As unfeasible as it seemed now, there could be a way to make it work. However, that would mean a lot of sacrifices that he wasn’t ready to make. But then, nine months – or in this case, six – was a lot of time to plan things out. Rose was right about that too. He had the support of very reliable people, people who were practically throwing themselves at his feet to help. With time and a lot of effort and planning, it could be that a baby could somehow have a place in his daily life.

But would he be able to bring it up well?

He thought about what Minerva had said some days before. In his youth, he had thoughts about what he could pass onto his children, what lessons he could instill in them. He would be losing out on that if he gave the child up. He wouldn’t know what they were being raised to think. If it were given to a Muggle couple, he wouldn’t want his child to not know their true heritage. As tarnished as it was by his father, there was still some old Wizarding honor there. He once thought of how he could raise the next great wizard. His son or daughter could end up being greater than Potter, and he would never get to see it as he should, as their parent. And Minerva had been right to say that the child would one day return to the castle, doe-eyed and ready for the start of the rest of their life. He couldn’t comprehend the thought of facing him or her when that day came, watching that life from afar.

He wanted to be a father, he always had. But how could he be any good at it after what his father had done to him and his mother? As Dumbledore had put it, there wasn’t any way of knowing until trying. The simple thought scared Severus, only seeing the worst possible outcome. He didn’t want any harm to come to this baby, least of all by his own hand. But why must he give up before the child was even born? If you treated them right, children had a way of loving you unconditionally. He never felt that for his father, but he wanted to feel that for himself. He wanted someone to look at him like he was the greatest thing in the world. And though he felt great affection for Rose, a relationship with her or anyone else was not looking very likely. This pregnancy really was his one chance to have all of that, and he thought to give it up. Rose had said that there had to be a reason he survived the war, perhaps it was fatherhood.

He paused suddenly. In that silent, lonesome moment, Lily’s spiritual words to him finally started to make sense.

Severus eased himself up off the sofa and made his way to the front door of his quarters. Shutting himself out into the dark, empty dungeon corridors, he immediately took off in the direction of the main stairwell. He started up with a quickened step. Higher and higher he climbed, passing few people and ghosts as he went. He felt the strain on his body, but Severus did not give into exhaustion, even as he passed each level by, along with ample chance to rest. He finally reached the seventh floor, but still he did not stop walking. Only when he stood in front of the imposing gargoyle that guarded the headmaster’s office did he pause to catch his breath.

He uttered the password in a low, tired voice, and allowed the stone figure to reveal the path up to the door. He climbed that one last set of steps and knocked on the door steadily. _‘Please let him be awake…’_ It seemed that luck was on Severus’s side because the door slowly swung open on its own accord. The room was dark, and Fawkes had his head tucked under his red wing as he slept. Albus sat before a wide open window, repeatedly looking down the peephole of his grand brass telescope.

“Severus,” he said, looking up. “What brings you up here at this hour?” Severus was a known night owl, but the headmaster did sound genuinely surprised to see the younger wizard so long into the evening.

“I needed to speak with you, and I’m afraid that it couldn’t wait.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Albus stopped what he was doing and swiftly made his way down to sit in front of his stately desk. He motioned for Severus to step forward, indicating the empty chair across from him. Severus slowly and cautiously did as he was told. Once he was sitting almost-comfortably in his chair, Albus spoke. “What is it, my boy? Tell me what is on your mind.”

“Well…” Severus was slow to start, hesitation getting the better of him. “I have been thinking a lot recently…about this.” He gestured towards his stomach, prompting Albus to raise his brow. “I have gone over all of my options, given everything a fair amount of thought.”

“Have you decided what you are going to do?” Albus asked, and Severus nodded nervously. “I have.”

“And?”

Severus’s arm came up from his side to wrap around his abdomen in a subtle way that was almost protective. “I am keeping the child, Albus.”

The elderly wizard didn’t say a word. Though Severus was a little relieved, he was also quite puzzled. It wasn’t like Albus to be so quiet about anything, let alone something this important. But soon enough, his face relaxed, and those eyes gave off that familiar twinkle. Albus stood up and walked around his desk with a smile. Severus watched as he bent over to go into one of his drawers, and then return holding a small box. He held it out to the Potions master.

“For you, Severus. Go on, open it.”

Severus was terribly suspicious, but still he did take the box from his colleague, who sat back down across from him. He peeled off the delicate lid and parted the wrappings inside. He paused when he laid his eyes on the headmaster’s gift. His insides felt a bit out of sorts as he picked up the pristine white knitted booties with light blue trimming, small enough to rest in the palm of his hand. He looked back up at Albus.

“I started on those just after we found out that you were expecting. A newborn needs a good pair of socks.”

“You knew?” asked Severus, finally able to get words out again.

“I had the sense that you would come around, although I would have supported you either way.” That touch of whimsy began to creep back into Albus’s voice. “But Severus, I am so pleased that you made this choice. It will be delightful to have a baby among the staff again. If I might ask you, what was it that swayed your decision?”

“It was some wise words from a very understanding person,” Severus replied, running his fingers over the soft wool in his hand. The face of that understanding person appeared in his mind. The corners of his mouth twitched up, and Albus beamed.

Severus’s thoughts further wandered to Rose, sleeping up in her tower dormitory. He thought of her encouraging words, her warming presence, her fair face. With such unwavering compassion and natural beauty, there was no one else in the castle worth noticing. And on that night, there was no one else in the castle as far as Severus was concerned. There was only her…god, he wanted her. He wanted to have her beside him at all times. He wanted to feel her hand on him again. And he wanted her to know just how moving her words were. Intense flutters inched their way up to wrap his heart in warmth, and Severus let it meld with the moment to create a true, genuine smile. He was going to be a father, and he was potentially falling for a new woman! If that wasn’t life looking up, what was?


	32. The remains of a broken crest

Rose craned her neck to look over her shoulder and glance up at the Head table. She watched as Snape reached for his second helping of eggs, and his third slice of toast. Though she hid it well to the other Gryffindors around her, she was utterly delighted to see him eating with full vigor once again. Whatever illness it was that troubled him so had obviously passed, which was a huge relief for Rose. He also looked much more content with himself, not as unhappy. He was still his same old sneering self, but he wasn’t glum. And Rose was utterly delighted to see that. Perhaps he took her words to heart the other night. And if he did, what did that say about her? Snape didn’t listen to every student in the castle, if any at all.

She felt favored before, but now she just felt special.

The Potions professor ran his fingers through his black hair, which was still visibly damp from a shower. This made two mornings that she noticed Snape’s new cleanliness, or at least that he was bathing on a more regular basis than before. She was puzzled as to why he would want to give up the greasy look after – what? – twenty years of making it his thing, but she couldn’t exactly complain about it either. He looked better when he had clean hair, added more appeal to his dark, mysterious looks. Please, he looked great now that he was eating more and his face wasn’t so gaunt. He was still a little on the thin side, but he was on the right track. The shudders of attraction worked their way up Rose’s body, tickling her stomach and staining her cheeks pink. If she hadn’t been sitting at breakfast, she probably would have taken delight in grinning.

“He’s doing it again,” Ron said in a song-like tone, talking through a mouthful of bacon. Harry looked up from his Transfigurations book and blinked hard, much the way anyone would after just waking up. “Who’s doing what again?”

“Snape, that’s like the third time he’s reached for more food.”

Harry’s green eyes rolled behind his glasses and he yawned. “Okay, so he’s eating. Big deal.”

“Actually Harry, Ron’s right,” said Hermione, glancing up in Snape’s direction. “He’s never eaten that much in one sitting before, especially this term. Come to think of it, he didn’t seem to eat much at all the last few weeks.”

“Since when did you two take a particular interest in professors’ eating habits?” Harry asked.

“Well Harry, it is strange,” said Ron. “You can’t deny that. I mean, he goes from practically starving himself to that!” He jabbed his thumb at the Potions master.

Suddenly, Rose whirled back around and pushed down Ron’s hand. “Don’t do that,” she said. Ron raised an eyebrow to her. “Why not? You’ve been watching Snape as much as Hermione and I have. Not to mention that you see a whole lot more of him than the rest of us. Don’t you think that’s bizarre?”

“I do,” Rose reluctantly admitted. “But I don’t think we would want Snape knowing that we’re talking about him.”

“We’re just talking, that’s not a crime.” Ron carefully yet playfully pried Rose’s fingers off his skin. “Besides, I don’t think Snape cares much what we say. If he did, half the school would be in detention.”

“Sorry for warning you on the off chance that he does.” Rose cautiously looked back up the hall, trying to add a little weight to her words. “And just to throw it out there, I think he does.”

“Down girl,” the male ginger teased. “No need to go defending Snape. I mean, look at him!” They did, now joined by a number of their housemates. They could see that Snape was glaring at something, or someone more likely. Rose scoffed breathily, giving her a rather snobbish air.

“So your point is?”

“He looks like that all the time. Why should we assume that it’s us? Maybe it’s got nothing to do with us.” Ron chuckled in a dozy, but suggestive way that encouraged those around them to provide their own puns. Harry also muffled a little laugh behind pressed lips.

“Yeah,” Seamus spoke up. “Maybe he couldn’t get it up for himself last night or something.”

Everyone around them had their own unique reactions to that. Dean and Ron agreed with Seamus that that was terribly funny and laughed out loud. Harry, like several others that included the likes of Neville and Parvati, was practically choking on suppressed sniggers that were half-hidden by a hand over his face. Hermione and Lavender seemed to finally agree on something as they both rolled their eyes and shook their heads. And though it was well-hidden, Rose was horrified. How dare Seamus say something so rude, so bluntly?

“Shut up, guys!” she commanded. “For all our sakes, leave him alone.” But they did not quiet down.

“Sorry Rose, but it’s just too easy.” Seamus paused for a moment to catch his breath. “Since you’re in that kind of mood today, what do you think is up with Snape?”

Rose looked up. Snape had set his fork aside and his head was down, almost like he was deliberately ignoring their table. She felt a slight sinking in her stomach. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Do you think that it’s another effect of whatever it is he had last month?” Parvati offered up. Hermione nodded at her. “Could be.”

“Maybe he has the Wizard’s Flu,” said Dean.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Hermione, almost laughing. “If he had that, he wouldn’t be eating at all.”

“He wouldn’t be able to stand either,” said Rose. “You remember, I had the Wizard’s Flu back in fifth year. I was flat on my back in the hospital wing for over a week! And Hermione’s right. I couldn’t eat a thing for at least three days.”

“Oh yeah,” the boys hummed, retreating into their minds to rummage through their limited medical knowledge.

“Dragon Pox?” Ron suggested. Harry snorted in response. “Believe me, Ron. We would know it if he had that. He’d have a scaly rash all over his body.”

“Ah Harry,” Seamus laughed deep in his throat. “You have no idea how badly I’d like to see that.” Everyone else giggled at that, some quieter than others. Rose also laughed, though it was more to throw off her housemates. Inside, she just wanted them to stop. They shouldn’t ever have to talk about Snape like that. Her grin hid an overwhelming urge to protect her beloved professor.

“Guys, just cut it out,” she said. “Whatever it is that’s going on with Snape, it doesn’t affect us. For all we know, he could be back to complete perfect health and we’ve just never seen it before. Just drop it before it gets back to someone and I have to make excuses for you all.”

“I refuse to believe that Snape would believe you totally,” said Seamus, shaking his head.

“Hey at least we know she would try and defend us,” Ron added, and Rose smirked. “That happens when you’re an only child. I have no siblings to lie for, so I’ve got to make up for it sometime.”

Owls flooded in through the windows and started dropping what became a rain of letters and newspapers. Rose looked up and was pleased when a great gray owl dropped what turn out to be a lengthy letter from her old friend Natasha. She was half-way through lovely descriptions of Gloucestershire in the fall when something else landed in front of her with a light _thwat._ She looked up at the smaller, rectangular parcel now sitting on top of her food. Her name was clearly written on the attached envelope, but once again, there was no return name.

“Not this again,” she said, sighing.

“What, no name again?” asked Harry.

“Yeah,” Rose sort of nodded and shook her head at the same time as she peeled open the envelope. Lavender leaned over her own mail to get a better look. “Has your secret admirer struck again?”

“Chill Lav,” said Rose. She pulled out the parchment inside and recognized the same delicate handwriting from the letter that came with her green jacket.

_Rosie,_

_So, word has it that you like my last little gift. I just want you to know how much joy that brings to me. I know that you so wanted that jacket and it was my pleasure to provide it for you. A darling girl deserves to be happy once and a while. You especially deserve it more than anyone else. Here is another token of my appreciation and fondness for you. I hope it suits your beauty as well as your jacket. Enjoy…_

_All my affection_

Rose held her breath before blowing it out slowly. All my affection…is that all they would say? It was short, but still profound enough to bounce around in her head. It really was sweet; her female sensitivities would not allow her to deny that. But Rose still didn’t know how to handle it. She had been so focused on Snape for a while that she nearly forgot about the first letter. Actually, a part of her had hoped that it would stop with the jacket. Now this was just unsettling. And why did they have to call her Rosie? Why?!

She handed the letter off to Hermione for her to read, and then went to work at untying the knots in the twine and unwrapping the brown paper around the box. Given the unusual shape, Rose couldn’t help but wonder what this package held. It seemed that Lavender and Parvati were thinking the same thing because they couldn’t take their eyes off her hands. Tossing red hair over her shoulder, Rose finally got her fingers on the box and carefully pulled off the top. Every girl within five feet was heard as she looked upon the brilliant blue silk scarf that gradually faded to a vibrant green, and then a rich purple.

**~HP~**

Up at his place at the Head table, Severus could hear every bark of laughter from the Gryffindor table, saw every curious stare in his direction. Tugging his robes over his body, he pushed his half-covered plate away. Remus, who was sitting beside him, slowly lowered his cup of coffee from his lips. “What’s wrong, Severus?”

“They’re laughing at me,” said Severus, his voice low and blunt. Having been consumed in a letter from Andromeda Tonks about his little Teddy, Remus was a bit out of the loop. “Who is?”

“The Gryffindors, they’ve been looking at me all morning. Just listen to them, Remus!”

“I hear them, but I doubt that they’re laughing at you. They’re kids; they can find the slightest innuendo to be absolutely hilarious. Nah, it’s probably nothing.”

Severus shook his head. “I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to take meals up here. All it takes is one observant child to get them going like that. They had to eventually notice something.”

“Ignore them,” said Remus, pulling the plate back closer within Severus’s reach. “They’ll get over themselves, or someone will talk some sense into them. Your condition isn’t even obvious yet. We can hope that they forget about it by the time it is.”

“As if it’s not obvious enough,” Severus sneered. He eyed the food in front of him, and Remus smirked. “You know it won’t kill you to have one more bite.”

The Potions master sighed, swallowing the saliva that was starting to accumulate. “Yes, I know.” Remus chuckled and pulled the plate even closer. “Eat, you obviously want it, and I imagine that the baby does too. Enjoy it now that you can. Besides, I think the kids have already moved onto something else.”

Remus pointed to the Gryffindor table, particularly at the suddenly distracted Seventh years. He then went back to drinking his hot coffee and reading his long letter. It would be a while before Severus could pick up his fork again. He just had to take a long moment to watch Rose delicately run that scarf through her fingers, testing the smooth material. His heart soared when she turned her head enough for him to see the smile that broke out across her face.

**~HP~**

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to wear it,” said Lavender as she strolled beside Rose. They along with Parvati had just left Divinations, and they were headed outside. All three of them were wrapped in their black cloaks and house scarves; for late October, it was proving to be bitterly chilly. “If your secret admirer bought it for you, I would think that he hoped to see it on you. He probably assumed that you would with how cold it’s getting outside.”

Though Rose had decided against wrapping her new eye-catching scarf around her neck, she still wanted to show it off somehow. So instead, she tied it carefully to the strap of her schoolbag. “I don’t know, Lavender. I’m still not so sure about this whole secret admirer thing. And besides, it’s silk. It wouldn’t keep my neck very warm for very long.”

“Oh yeah, I guess you’re right. I still think you should wear it. I was the one who pointed it out to you in _Witch Weekly._ Rose, I’ve been telling you for weeks how good that scarf would look on you.”

“That was before some nameless person bought it for me as a token of fondness.” Rose’s brow wrinkled at the thought. “Come on, Lavender. Isn’t that just a little bit disconcerting to you?”

“I think it’s adorable,” Lavender said, her voice pitching up. Rose rolled her eyes. “Of course, _you_ do!”

“Give it up, Rose,” said Parvati. “We know you like it. If you didn’t, you could have just sent it back.”

Rose sighed softly. Her friend was right. She loved both the scarf and the jacket, and she never thought about returning them. But there was still always sitting at the back of her mind. “Parvati, it’s a bit hard to do that when there’s no name to send it back to.” That sounded like a legitimate reason, right?

Lavender scoffed in a terrifically lighthearted manner. “Why are you so uptight about this? A boy likes you, what’s not to love about that?”

“I dunno, maybe the fact that we have no idea who he is, or if he’s even a _he_ at all.”

“Stop that!” The blonde witch laughed hard. “You should take this for what it is. Somebody obviously cares about you, and he wants to show that to you.”

“It would still help to put a face to it. I mean, this is a big school. It could be anybody. For all I know, this could be a First year with more money than he needs.”

“I doubt it,” said Parvati. “Those letters seemed like they were written by someone older, probably our age.”

“Are you sure that it isn’t one of our boys?” asked Lavender. Rose nodded. “I like to think that Harry, Ron, and Neville are committed to their relationships. We’ve seen Seamus’s idea of courting someone. Lots of talk, but nothing else. And I have enough reason to believe that it’s not Dean.” She oh-so-subtly nodded to Parvati. She knew that Dean had his eyes on her, and for quite a while at that. He was just waiting for the right moment to make his move.

“It really could be anybody, couldn’t it?” said Parvati as they turned the corner into the hall that led to the courtyard.

“It would seem that way,” Rose sighed. “Really girls, all I want is a clue. I mean, whoever this guy is, why does he have to be so secretive?”

“Maybe he’s just shy,” suggested Lavender. “I mean, you’re not the most outgoing of us girls either, but you do have your moments. He’s probably nervous to approach you, so he’s showing his fancy in another way.”

“It’s a funny way of showing it,” Parvati said with a wrinkled brow. “That scarf wasn’t cheap either.”

“What do you think, Rose?” Lavender stopped walking, causing her friends to do the same. Rose sighed through her teeth, her eyes shifting around. “I wish I knew what to say, Lav. Yes, it is a nice gesture, and I do appreciate it. I just don’t know how I really feel about this. It’s not very often that this sort of thing happens, finding that someone fancies you and then they reach out to you from who knows where.”

“Does it make you feel special?” asked Lavender in a tone that was impregnated with friendly love.

Rose’s gaze fell to the floor, color creeping into her cheeks again. “Yeah…”

“Pardon me, ladies.” The three Gryffindors spun around at the sudden sound of Snape’s voice. The Potions master had practically appeared out of nowhere to stand by the archway behind them, wearing his thicker, woolen robes. That same menacing, yet strangely casual sneer was etched into his face. “I hate to interrupt what was _surely_ a terribly intellectual discussion, but I must speak with Beckett for a moment.”

“What about, Professor?” Rose asked coolly. She straightened her back and grasped her bag with both hands. Lavender and Parvati followed her example, still a bit intimidated by Snape and hoping that Rose had the right idea about how to act in his presence.

“I need to discuss the Restoration Potion you brewed the other day. Don’t look so fretful, Miss Brown. You will have her back later. In the meantime, I do hope that you can contain yourself for more than ten seconds. The same thing goes for you, Miss Patil. Now Miss Beckett, if you will come with me.”

Rose was a little confused; she was sure that there was nothing wrong with her potion when she left it to ferment in the Potions classroom. So of course there was the fear that something unforeseen that happened since then. Calmly, she turned to her housemates and told them to go ahead without her and that she would see them later. She then followed her professor down the hall.

“I don’t understand, Professor,” she said. “What’s wrong with my potion?”

“Nothing is wrong with it, Miss Beckett,” Snape told her, further confusing the poor girl. “It is progressing exactly as it should.”

“Then what am I here for?” Rose paused in the middle of the hall, and Snape slowed to a stop beside her. His black eyes travelled up and down her body, occasionally glancing at the orange/red scarf that stuck out at her waist. A shudder worked its way up Rose’s spine in a way that couldn’t help but excite her.

“I have been informed that there is a large patch of knotgrass on the edge of the forest by the lake, and the student stores could stand to be replenished. Since you are already dressed as such, I assumed that you wouldn’t mind taking a little walk to retrieve it.”

Suddenly, Rose’s flaxen eyebrows perked up. She glanced over her shoulder before turning back with a small smile. “I could do that.”

**~HP~**

“Do you miss your friends?” Snape asked Rose as they strode on the shores of the lake. The castle was a ways behind them, and any other voices had dissolved into the brisk Scottish air. Rose giggled. “Lavender and Parvati? Ha, it’s a bit difficult to miss someone when you’re going to see them in a few hours.”

“I was actually referring to those who are no longer at Hogwarts.” The Potions professor’s tone only slightly hardened in a _don’t-be-smart-with-me-Beckett_ sort of way.

“Oh…them,” The Gryffindor adjusted the house scarf around her neck as she looked out over the water. “Of course, I miss them. Natasha and Jonny were my friends, how could I not?”

“ _Were_ your friends?” inquired Snape.

“I haven’t seen them since May,” Rose explained. “After the war ended, both of them did what they had to do to get their lives back on track. And for them, it was to start their lives over completely. Jonny left Britain so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to talk him out of it. And though Natasha’s still in the country, she’s pulled back from socializing with just about anybody. She’ll be gone for good by the end of the year. They were out of my life before I could really comprehend it.”

“Ah…that had to be hard.”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said that the other day. As much as I love my housemates – and I do – they really were the only people who I could call my real friends. We put aside house loyalty for each other, and we were there for each other through everything Hogwarts had to offer. So yes, it has been tough to build a life without them because I never thought that I would have to.”

“I suppose I could say that you are lucky that you have sympathetic housemates to rally around you.” Snape didn’t say that to be sinister, and a glance at his face confirmed that. Rose shook her head with a half-smirk. “Contrary to what you might believe, sir, I was friendly with them all beforehand. I’ve just gotten much closer to them in recent weeks, and yes, I admit that some of it was because of Jonny and Natasha leaving. They all knew how important they were to me. I guess I am lucky to have them in my life.” Snape noticed the soft smile that Rose was unconsciously giving, and the shine in her blue eyes. He felt a certain warmth come over him, even in the bitter October air.

“They mean a lot to you, don’t they?”

Rose nodded. “You have no idea. Hermione Granger might be a know-it-all who needs to put a cork in it to you, but she’s honestly one of the best friends I’ve ever had. And I certainly didn’t think that I would one day find myself hanging out with the likes of Harry Potter. And it’s not just them either. It’s Ron, Lavender, Neville, Parvati, it’s all of them! None of them could ever replace my old friends…” She trailed off, like a thought had suddenly come to her. Her face fell as she glanced up at the Potions master in silence. She was slow to finish what she had been saying. “But it is wonderful to have great people who care about me like that.”

_‘If only you knew,’_ Snape thought.

He thought back on all the times he had seen Rose in the halls, and he couldn’t help but notice something. He knew who her former friends were, many people did. He also knew that there were three of them. So far, he had only heard of just the two, Natasha Moschovitz and Jonathan Cederman. There was still one other young man who was barely seen without Rose in his company, and this young man happened to have been of Snape’s own house. Strange that Rose would care to mention the Ravenclaw and the Hufflepuff, but not the Slytherin. Severus wasn’t offended; it was just strange, and a bit unsettling at that.

“I still find it unusual how four students from four different houses could bond together in such a way.”

Rose again looked towards the lake, letting go of a deep sigh. “To be frank Professor, it never made a difference to me. We were just four kids who connected. Actually, I met the three of them before any of us were sorted, on the train, on the boats. I knew them before we knew anything about our house’s reputations, so we were unbiased towards each other. We liked each other either way. I still think they put way too much emphasis on house placement. Hell, if they didn’t, I wouldn’t have had to drive myself half-mad over potentially not living up to Gryffindor’s name. If you ask me, when it comes down to it, we’re not all that different.”

“So you mean to say that you and I are one in the same?” Both Snape and Rose came to a stop. The Gryffindor gazed up at her professor as a gentle wind blew their hair out of their faces. The way the setting sun hit Snape’s face seemed to bring out his features more than when he was in the castle, and there was a certain look in his onyx eye that was quite enticing. Rose used the conversation to her advantage and smiled at him, trying not to betray those pesky butterflies in her stomach.

“In a way, yes. Now that I know you better, I can’t help but feel that we’re actually more alike than we might have realized. Nowadays, I don’t look at you and immediately see a Slytherin. I just see you as another person. You’re the head of Slytherin house, and yet you’re one of my favorite professors. The same was true for Natasha, or Jonny, or Da – or anyone else. It’s about who we are, not who we represent.”

“If only more people could think like you do, Miss Beckett,” said Snape as he got them walking again. He caught that little hesitation just there, and by the way Rose was looking to the distance, it seemed that she wanted him to ignore it. Unfortunately for the poor girl, he couldn’t. As much as Rose tried to sway him, something was wrong here.

“What was it about your former friends that appealed to you?” he asked, wondering if she needed a little push this time.

“Oh, many things,” said Rose. “They were good kids, and they great people to be around. If anything, I liked them because they were as offbeat as I can be sometimes. None of us wanted to get into generic magical professions. We all wanted to do something different, like me working with Muggles. They actually exposed me to a lot of things here at Hogwarts. Jonny for example, he was fascinated by magical creatures from the time we were eleven. His mother was a unicorn breeder, and he wanted to branch out more from the family business. He spent a lot of time reading up on monsters from who knows where, and I swear, there were times when we all thought that the squid in the lake was his real best friend, the way he just stood out here tossing out crackers and toast. Thank Merlin that he drew the line at keeping illegal creatures as pets. He could be a bit of a nutter sometimes, and I’ll never forgive him for convincing me to take Hagrid’s class third year, but it was that spontaneity that brought out the best in him. He was just so upbeat all the time, I don’t know how he did it. If you ever needed a laugh, he was your go-to guy. Natasha on the other hand had a way of keeping us all in line. You could say she was wound too tightly, but her father is from St. Petersburg. That’s just the way she was raised, structured and rigid. That didn’t make her any less pleasant. She really was a lovely person. If she was ever critical of us, it was out of love. And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was absolutely brilliant. She wouldn’t allow us to be confused with any subject, not while she was around. It’s because of her that I ended up taking Divination, and I’m still there. She would be proud to know that she’s influenced me that much.”

She paused for a moment, letting herself get lost in a thought or two, lingering on one particular face in her mind before she sighed slightly. “All in all, they were everything I could have asked for in friends, more than what I got from those few Muggles in Meadow Hill when I was young. No one was the odd one out among us. We liked each other for everything that we were and…and we would do anything for each other. I feel really lucky for the time I had with them. They were the most important people in my life. Like I said, no one could possibly replace them, but I was fortunate that there were others compassionate enough to try and fill that void.”

Now Severus was feeling a tugging of empathy in his chest. The way Rose was talking, it seemed that she had lost her whole world, and she was obviously still coping with being the last woman standing. He heard that in her soft voice, saw the longing in her eyes. And even in such a lengthy explanation, she still could not speak of the lone Slytherin that completed their Hogwarts crest. Deeper pondering led him to a horrendous truth that he had somehow overlooked. Moschovitz and Cederman left on their own accord, that poor boy was killed in battle!

Well, that made more sense! Of course, Rose wouldn’t want to talk about him in light of that. At least she had the chance to hear from the other two again. She probably didn’t want to be reminded of the pain of losing a friend to death, and Severus couldn’t have been more sympathetic to that.

“How very endearing, Miss Beckett,” he said, quite unsure if that was the right thing to say. “I am sure that your presence is as greatly missed by them both as well.”

“I kind of doubt that,” said Rose, her tone hitching up slightly. “If I mattered that much to them, then they would have thought about me before they decided to up and leave. They didn’t consider that I would be here alone, that I would have to fend for myself. I hoped that we would be together for life, and it hurts that they would throw that away so quickly.”

“You said it yourself that they wanted to start a new life. Would you not want that for them?” Again, Snape came to an abrupt stop, and Rose followed his lead. Both their robes rustled in the grass. Rose shook her head. “I want them to be happy.”

“And I am quite sure that they want the same for you. I imagine the decision to leave Hogwarts was not one made lightly, and though you might think otherwise, you probably did come to their minds. Maybe Moschovitz and Cederman didn’t want to leave you, but they realized that they had to take care of themselves first. They know you better than anyone out there. Perhaps they thought that since you are slightly more headstrong than they were, you would be better equipped to handle yourself. I don’t know your friends’ intentions for sure, but something tells me that they thought that you would be alright in the end. And yes, I do believe that you left as big a void in their lives as well.” Severus gazed down at Rose, marveling at the beauty that her vulnerability helped to bring out. The desire to touch her face was almost too much to bear. In the end, he threw caution to the wind and carefully reached out to tuck long strands of red hair behind her ear, almost as a parent would for their young child. Rose didn’t even flinch. “You are a kindhearted young woman who always remains loyal to those you care for. What isn’t there to miss?”

Rose was looking up with what appeared to be some sort of wonder. She breathed shallowly and swallowed.  “You don’t really mean that.”

“I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. It’s not very often that one comes across someone like you, and Cederman and Moschovitz probably knew that too. If they were ever passing through these parts again in the future, I would not be surprised in the slightest if you were the first person they wanted to see. Keep that in mind, and you may find that you won’t resent them as much.” Snape casually touched Rose’s shoulder, coaxing her to walk again. Rose tightly gripped the bag at her side. “Now come on, we’re losing light faster than I anticipated.”

**~HP~**

That night, Rose sat cross-legged on her bed, leaning slightly against the headboard, with a quill in her hand. She had a book in her lap, which she used as a hard surface to write on. Her new scarf, now a deep midnight blue, draped delicately around her neck. The only light in the room came from the bedside lamp. Hermione was already asleep in her bed across the tiny room, the only noise coming from her being a quiet, steady breath.

She had intended to write a quick response to Natasha’s letter before going to sleep, but she just couldn’t to keep her mind off of Snape. It had been a long time since someone had so consistently given her compliment after compliment, and for it to be someone so unlikely made it so much better. It seemed like every time she saw the Potions master, he would say something that gave her confidence an extra boost. Very few people had been able to do that for her. It only helped that such praise was coming from a man who could be devilishly handsome, even if he didn’t realize that himself. Oh, Rose could feel the rush even there! She absentmindedly stroked the silk hanging at her breast.

She never thought that she would ever feel this again. Only one person had ever made her feel so noticed…so special. No one could fill the hole in her heart so easily, and yet it happened without her even realizing. There was more to Snape than his dark looks. As much as he tried to disprove it, he was a good man. Rose felt connected to him, more deeply than anyone else in her life. She had the support and friendship of those around her, but all she really wanted was Snape. She wanted to hear his soothing voice, feel the careful touch of a skilled Potions master. She felt her heart racing just at the thought, and she touched the tip of her quill to the parchment.

She was never going to hear the end of this, even if it was from hundreds of miles away.

_Dear Natasha,_

_It was great to hear from you again. Glad to hear that all is well with your family, and that your moving plans are going smoothly. Before you leave, be sure to invest in plenty of wool and fur robes. We think the winters are cold here in Britain, I hear that’s nothing compared to Moscow in February. I look forward to hearing how you adjust to your new settings._

_On another note, I actually have something to tell you. Back in June, you made me promise to write to you whenever something major happened in my life. I don’t think either of us could have counted on it happening this soon, barely three months into term. But I did make a promise, and if anyone has the right to know this, it ought to be you, Tasha. You’re probably not going to believe me when you read this, but that’s okay. Just do me one favor and don’t press me for an explanation. I haven’t said this to anyone else, and I’m not sure if I can give it to you just yet._

_I don’t know when it happened, but I think I have a crush on Professor Snape…_


	33. The tale of Alistair Beckett

The Seventh year students propped themselves up in various positions at their desks. Some were leaning on their elbows, while others reclined back into their seats. But as lethargic as such stances might have looked to someone who happened to be walking by, they would have changed their minds when they got a look at the brooding, contemplative faces that stretched out across the room. These young adults were beginning to realize just how involved a proper Defense against the Dark Arts lesson could get for them.

Lupin leaned against the edge of his desk at the front of the room. With the wide range of experience that these kids had, with or without the war, he had taken to engaging them in scholarly discussions in place of a traditional lesson. That way, he could gage the temperature of the room; get an idea on who was ahead and who was falling behind. This would help him in deciding what to do with them next, while at the same time allowing the students to voice their opinions on topics that were becoming increasingly more current. This happened to be one of those days, and the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on his desk served as the lesson plan. Another arrest had been made in the search for Lord Voldemort’s followers.

“As I’m sure we all know by now, not everyone being questioned is an actual Death Eater,” he explained. “I know, there are still quite a few out there, and it’s pretty exciting when Aurors catch one. However, a true, marked Death Eater is only one out of every few dozen people arrested.”

“It should be more than that,” said Seamus, hunching over his desk. “I mean, we know exactly who the slick gits are. What stopped them from rounding them up within a month of the battle?”

“Because they are slick gits,” Harry said as he looked back to the Irishman’s desk, blunt but serious at once. “Seamus, these people were hanging around with Lord Voldemort. Did you honestly think that they wouldn’t have a plan to prevent being caught?”

“Excellent point, Harry,” said Lupin, pointing at the messy-haired Head Boy. “The reason that it is difficult to find the remaining Death Eaters is because those that are not in Azkaban have gone into various states of hiding. Obviously, some are proving to be harder to track down than others.”

Seamus rolled his eyes, leaning back and crossing his legs under his desk. “It’s still ridiculous.”

“Oh yeah,” Ron murmured. “It’s either nobody can find them, or they’re just getting off scot-free.” He looked across the room, where Malfoy sat glaring back at him. The Slytherin’s hands were clenching together as he pulled them closer to his thighs.

“Ron,” Hermione began in an attempt to prevent a row. “The Ministry can’t imprison everyone that they bring in.”

“Hermione is exactly right,” The werewolf professor jumped in, further squashing any conflict this touchy lesson could be building up. “It is the job of the Ministry to look over each case presented to them. They must examine every little scrap of evidence that they can get their hands on, and then they must decide what can and must be done. And as rarely as it happens, sometimes it just doesn’t warrant prison time. That’s just the process of law and order. For example, a number of people were questioned under Veritaserum and they were found to have been under the influence of the Imperious Curse when they committed their respective crimes.”

“Yes, but not all of them,” Rose said in a hard tone, she too glancing over at the blonde Slytherin.

Lupin shook his head. “That is quite enough, thank you Miss Beckett.” Using her surname seemed to snap Rose out of that creeping animosity. She turned back to him and Lupin continued. “In any case, there are a number of reasons why people have been let go, but I will not discuss them here for we don’t have the time it would take to explain them all. That’s another topic for another day” With another batch of kids, he silently added. It was delicate enough to have Harry and his friends in the room. The young Malfoy made delaying that conversation more of a priority.

“Getting back to my original premise, there were more to Voldemort’s circle of followers than just his Death Eaters. Those others that have been discovered might have had looser ties to him and were not involved in most of the violence, but they did still take part in his regime in other ways.”

“How do we know that for sure?” asked Harry. “How do we know that they weren’t just Death Eaters in training?”

“Trust me, Harry,” said Lupin with an arched brow. “That theory has been explored. However there still isn’t much evidence to support it. If any suspects are thought to have been involved in that way, the courts tend to lump that into a conspiracy charge. But it is still only theoretical. It’s difficult to prove intent without that scar on their left arm.”

“What exactly do they do to get arrested?” asked Parvati. “All the papers say is that they are suspected of being involved with the Death Eaters.”

“Well, many things actually. Since the first war nearly twenty years ago, the Auror office has expanded on what they should be looking for. Those being sent to Azkaban today are there because they have committed a series of lesser crimes either at the command of Voldemort, or in his name. These include providing funds, spying, and harboring fugitive Death Eaters in their homes.”

“These people just seem to come out of nowhere,” said Dean. “How do Aurors know to find them?”

“As I said, they question everyone under Veritaserum. This includes the highest ranking Death Eaters. Quite frequently, it was them who gave everyone else up. They told Aurors who they were, where to find them, and what they did to help.”

“And in doing so, they outed some pretty unlikely folks,” Dean was interrupted by a snort caught in Seamus’s throat. “Not as unlikely as you think, mate.”

Several people, mostly Gryffindors, nodded their agreement. Lupin rolled his eyes in spite of himself. “I hate to agree, but yes, there were a few witches and wizards that I thought should have been questioned a long time ago. There just wasn’t enough evidence to warrant an arrest.”

“Well, they got it now, don’t they?” said Neville, making more than a few laugh. The professor brought up a hand to quiet them down again. He then took to walking up and down the aisle of desks, explaining as he went.

“Mister Thomas is still right though. What makes some of these felons unlikely is the fact that they were society people instead of seedy skinheads down Knockturn Alley. Whether they be prince or pauper, more often than not, they were living a secret private life where they identified with parts of Voldemort’s ideology.”

Eyes once again gravitated to Malfoy, and the Slytherin finally snarled. “Quit staring at me, already! I don’t know those sods. And in case it’s missed you, I’m not the only one caught up in this crap. You should be asking Beckett about her father, considering that he’s one of these _surprise felons!_ ”

Rose snapped her head at Malfoy, squealing from a dropped-open mouth. Harry and Ron also voiced their detest with incoherent shouts. Of course, Lupin was not going to let that one slide. That wasn’t an opinion as much as it was an attack. “Now Mister Malfoy,” he tried to reason, but Seamus raised his hand.

“Actually sir, he’s got a point. These convicts are unlikely, but what’s more unlikely than someone in your own family? Rose, you didn’t know that your dad was involved, right?”

“No, I didn’t,” Rose said, turning to look down at her desk. Seamus motioned to her back from his seat. “Then some of these guys would have to be pretty crafty to get by under their family’s noses.”

“If you knew my father, it might not be that surprising.” Secretly, Rose wished that she knew her father a little better. That way, she might have actually believed what she was saying. Alistair Beckett’s imprisonment had been as much a shock to her as anyone else in that room. Rose continued to avoid eye contact in the hopes that it would quench her classmates’ interest in her dysfunctional familial relations.

“What was your dad convicted of again?” Dean asked, and Rose suppressed a groan. She glared out of the corner of her eye, glancing over her shoulder.

“Yeah Beckett,” Malfoy sneered. “Why don’t you share with the class?”

Rose dropped her voice down as she spoke. “Aiding a fugitive…and conspiracy.”

“Ha,” Goyle dozily laughed. “Sounds like Daddy was working for the Dark Lord all along.”

“Oh, look who’s talking!” Rose growled, forcibly turning her upper body around to Malfoy’s henchman. “Your dad probably plays cards with mine in the Azkaban rec-room! And you –,” She jabbed a finger at Malfoy. “You are not exactly innocent either, or your parents!” Thankfully, some weren’t shy to back her up, if their loud voices were any indication.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Lupin barked. He returned to the front of the room and turned to face his class. “Clearly, we are letting this get a little too personal. Mister Malfoy, I’m sorry. Miss Beckett, I’m sorry. To wrap this up, it goes to show you that the Ministry is taking every one of these wizards much more seriously than they would have twenty years ago. If they have any connection to Voldemort, no matter how slight, then they will have to face the consequences. Some punishments are lighter than others. Miss Beckett, forgive my intrusiveness, but how much time was your father sentenced to?”

“Ten months,” Rose answered.

“Then he will be out by the spring. Some may not agree with giving such short sentences to these people, but it is still something. They realize that when they mess around with that kind of dark magic and go along with such hate, you will see the repercussions. As for those who you feel got off easy, the most that can be said is that they have been found to have been more beneficial to our side than Voldemort’s. As I said before, their deeds are varying, but they did happen. And we the people don’t have the right to question Ministry decisions, that’s that.”

Rose tried to stay focused on her teacher, but it was a bit difficult after a conversation like that. It was probably coming to her anyway; she just wished she had been better prepared. But then, how could she? She couldn’t exactly defend her father, not while he was still locked up. But she also couldn’t tell the honest to god truth. She just did not know her father as well as she should. He never gave her the chance to get to know him, to see all sides of him. His arrest had actually told Rose more about Alistair than anything else could. True, he was never the greatest example of wizards, or men in general. Actually no, he was a pitiful man. But how could she have missed something like that? Her dad was detached and callous, but she never thought he was a criminal.

And people actually compared her to that…

Lupin snapped his fingers, attracting her attention back. “We shall continue this discussion later in the week, and I must say that we will continue in a more civilized manner. Now, open up your books to page three hundred and three and take out your wands.” He walked around his desk, tapped the board with his wand, and proceeded with the planned lesson.

**~HP~**

“Professor Snape, can I ask you a question?” Rose asked, sitting across from the Potions master in his office. He had just finished showing her the finer points of Felix Filicis while working on an example to be shown to his Sixth years, and now they were waiting for it to finish stewing.

“I don’t believe you have to ask permission anymore,” said Snape in an oddly amused way. “But anyway, what is it?”

The Gryffindor began to twirl her red hair around her pale fingers. “Remember back when we had that fight in class?”

“Of course. How could I forget it?”

“You know how you said that my father and I are alike, how we’re both stubborn and other things like that?”

“Yes?”

“Is there more to it than that?”

Snape was a little struck by the inquiry. He had spent many evenings with Rose, had a plethora of conversations with her. But seldom did Alistair Beckett come up, especially this suddenly. Most of the time, it was because Snape thought it prudent to leave it alone, given the tense circumstances. And even when Rose did speak of him, it was usually to complain or to assert the apparent truth of how they were _not_ alike. Why the sudden change?

“Why do you ask?” he asked her, quite curious as to what was going on.

“I don’t know,” said Rose. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it also wasn’t a complete lie. “I’ve just been thinking about it lately. I thought you’d be a good person to ask; you know him better than I do.”

And like that, their little chat changed. Rose wasn’t looking for another reason to compare herself to her father to boost her confidence. She just wanted to hear about him. At first, Severus wondered why she would ask him at all. She had met the man after all, and she had spent portions of her life around him. But if this parent/child relationship had been as divorce-strained and limited as he had heard, it shouldn’t be a surprise for the child to be curious about the parent. Severus also realized that he was probably the first person that Rose could safely talk to about Alistair in a very, very long time. He knew that if he were to indulge her, he would have to try his best to set aside his feelings for her. This wasn’t the young woman he longed for, but a child looking for answers.

“As much as some might be tempted to say that you are a chip off the old Beckett block, I am not. However, there are times when I look at you and I do see elements of your father’s personality. It doesn’t happen very often, mind you. But you can’t help but notice it every now and then. As I have told you before, your stubbornness is definitely one of them. Miss Beckett, your father is a mule, possibly worse than you are. The rest of them are little things, things even you probably don’t see.”

“Like what?” Rose inched up to the edge of the cushion.

“Well, for one, his grip on polite language is a little lithe.”

Rose caught the chuckle in her throat. “Uh – um – he isn’t shy about saying what he means.”

“He never was,” said Snape. “I can’t tell you how many house points he lost because he couldn’t watch that mouth of his, and at least in the last few years, you have done well to follow him.”

“I’m not that bad,” Rose blushed.

“Tell me that the next time you slip in front of me. In any case, it really is difficult to explain because it isn’t one obvious trait that you two share. But I will say this to you, dear. You are more like him than you know. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that you were Alistair’s child, and I didn’t need your surname to tell me that.”

“Don’t tell me that I look like him, because I don’t think I do,” said Rose, looking as though she was trying to push down a sudden feeling of horror.

“No,” Snape lightly chuckled. “You’re not a spitting image – thank goodness – but I do see a resemblance. You look like an Irish Beckett, that’s all. That family is a bunch of good-looking people, and you’re lucky that it seems to be a dominant trait.” Rose blushed even harder, causing Snape to pull back a little. He had to get a hold of himself before he said way too much to her. Merlin, before he knew it, he’d be yammering like a lovesick schoolboy.

Rose slid off her wingchair and sat herself down on the floor before Snape’s feet. She crossed her legs, rested her hands in her lap, and looked up at her professor. “What was my dad like when you were at school? I know you were here at the same time, so you had to know him back then.”

“I was a year ahead of him, but yes, I did.” Snape relaxed back into his chair. “Although, I should tell you that I never was as chummy with your father as others.”

“I’d still like to hear what you have, though. Not many people talk about him, and I don’t usually ask.”

Severus let go of a sigh. Rose knew what her father was like as an adult, so there was no easy way to tell her the tale of a time before she was born. There wouldn’t be much difference, if she was even looking for that. He gently tapped his knee as he thought. “Your father…your father was much the same person back then as he is now. Even when he was a First year, you could tell what type of person he would be. He was very proud, very tenacious, and very vocal. And they all came together to make him very, very annoying.”  

“Sounds to me like you didn’t really like my dad,” Rose said sarcastically, and Snape shook his head. “I don’t like anybody who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

The student nodded with a strange tweak in her face. “See, that’s a bit odd to me. When I was at my dad’s place when I was younger, he didn’t really talk that much, for a whole weekend too. By now, I guessed that if he couldn’t say something nice, then he shouldn’t say anything.”

“If that’s true, then Alistair has learned to restrain himself. When we were students, or even when we were young adults, he ran his mouth at everyone. I can’t tell you how irritating his voice could be while you were cramming for exams, and that laugh…don’t get me started! That’s another thing you’ve inherited from him, you have the same laugh.”

Rose’s eyes shifted slightly to the left, pretending to watch the bubbling cauldron on the other side of the room. _‘Well, that explains why Mum calls it a cackle.’_

Snape continued. “I guess the best way to describe your father in his youth was ambitious. However, I don’t think he ever quite figured out how to handle that. I remember how he used to parade around these halls, thinking he was the best thing since sliced bread. I assure you that very few shared his sentiments. So to further himself socially, he took to following others and going along with what they had to say.”

“What sort of people did he hang around with?” asked Rose.

“No one outside Slytherin house, that’s for sure,” said Snape. “Miss Beckett, from what you do know of him, who did you think your father associated with?”

“Who do you think?” Rose asked right back in a subtle challenge. She knew that Snape knew exactly who they were both thinking of, even if Snape secretly wished that she had remained unaware of the obvious. She knew damn well that her father had mingled with Death Eaters on more than a few occasions.

Severus briefly hesitated, but then he remembered that it was Rose who started this discussion. She wanted to know everything he knew. “He was particularly drawn to those who eventually became Death Eaters. I seem to recall him being unable to detach himself from Lucius Malfoy’s leg for much of his first year. And not to mention that he followed Rodolphus Lestrange so much, you would have thought that he was in love with the guy. Good for him that he made no secret that he was straight.”

Rose wasn’t at all surprised, but she was still a bit puzzled. “Why did he hang out with those guys? From what I’ve heard, they were bad news long before they joined You-know-who.”

“Because they were the in-crowd, and according to Alistair, he was part of that in-crowd. Like them, he had come from a prestigious background, had the privileges of wealth, and…and he seemed to agree with their ideas for society.”

That was when Rose’s heart started to sink into her stomach. He agreed with them. Her dad actually agreed with those slimy, vile bigots. Sure, he had told her that it was way better to be of pure blood. He had criticized her for _so cruelly_ being born a half-blood. But Voldemort preached that those like her, as well as countless innocent Muggle-borns, were absolutely nothing in comparison. They deserved the harshest of treatments, or worse, death. The idea of her dad going along with that was sickening. She was related to that vile scum!

“You said that he made no secret that he was straight,” she said. Having had enough of hearing about her father’s flawed principles, Rose thought it best to change the subject.

“No, he made damn sure of that,” said Snape. “Your father was a lady’s man in every sense of the word. He didn’t hit on everything that moved, but I think he might have stooped that low if the girls hadn’t agreed with him. He had his first girlfriend by his third year, and a second one by his fourth. He didn’t limit himself to his own house either. As long as she was drop-dead gorgeous, it didn’t matter.”

Ah, that didn’t help! “What about blood status? Didn’t that matter?”

“Not as far as I could tell. If ever there was a time he dated a Muggle-born, it didn’t last very long. Actually, none of his school relationships lasted long. He just got what he wanted out of the poor girl, whatever that was, and then he moved on to another. To be frank Miss Beckett, I was shocked when I heard that he had married. Imagine how dumbfounded I was when I found out that his wife was a Muggle, or rather his ex-wife by that time.”

“Surprised he managed to keep that a secret,” said Rose, rolling her eyes.

“He had to.” Snape leaned forward to better look into Rose’s blue eyes. “And I’m sure you know why. But don’t think on that too mu–,”

“No!” Rose suddenly snapped. “I’m tired of half-truths and beating around bushes. Just say it! He never told anyone about my mother because of Voldemort!”

Suddenly, Rose’s hand flew up to cover her mouth and her eyes could have passed for saucers. He had to use her free hand to stop herself from falling back. It was hard to believe that saying the Dark Lord’s name could cause a reaction this intense. Snape for his part appeared to be rather unaffected, like he saw this every day. “It feels good to get that off your chest, doesn’t it?” he calmly said.

“I…I don’t usually say his name,” Rose stammered, straightening herself again.

“Understandable.” Snape allowed Rose a minute, or perhaps two to cool down. He could sense the anger and resentment starting to circulate the room, and for once, he wished it was his. With all that built up angst, he couldn’t blame Rose at all. He wished that he had better information for her, things that would make her feel better as opposed to what she had been made to endure since May. But for now, the best he could provide was simple distraction. He looked at the clock sitting on the edge of his desk and he instructed Rose to get up and stir the potion five times clockwise. No sooner than ten seconds passed before she was back on the floor at his feet, closer this time.

“I have to ask,” said Snape, his mouth unexpectedly getting a little dry at this new nearness. “I must confess that I have been wondering this for a great many years. You certainly don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but how did your parents meet? I mean, their marriage…how did that happen?”

Rose let out a noise that was half-way between a sigh and a short laugh, and she inched closer to the Potions master’s leg. “You’re not the first person to ask me. I have to say, it’s a little complicated…but then again, everybody’s family story is to a certain degree, isn’t it?” Snape nodded with a small smirk. The Gryffindor waited a moment before beginning. “They met in London, on a street corner. My dad was just coming out of a building which turned out to be the Leaky Cauldron, and my mum happened to be walking by. She had just moved to the city, right out of school and was about to begin university. Dad never said that much about the day they met, but what he did tell me was that when he saw her, he thought she was beautiful, beautiful enough to forget that she was a Muggle. And by some stroke of some kind of luck, something fell out of her handbag. So he called out to her. Mum turned to him, and she thought he was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. She always said that they don’t breed those kinds of guys in Meadow Hill.”

It seemed that Rose was comfortable because she reached up and rested her forearm on Snape’s leg. The wizard flinched, and Rose pulled back. Her face flushed a bright pink. “I’m sorry Professor…getting too settled in.”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Snape settled back into his chair, allowing her to rest against his leg again. He felt a small shudder as she very gently cupped his knee in her hand. “Go on, Miss Beckett.”

“They dated for a few weeks. I can’t tell you what they did on those dates, but I can’t imagine that my dad was terribly thrilled with any of it. She was a Muggle, so he couldn’t take her back to his world, just his flat. But still, they were very smitten with each other. Mum used to tell me about how he charmed her without degrading her. It was as though they had known each other for years, not a few weeks. They had a pretty heated relationship for so short a courtship, so I guess they were compatible physically. Dad in particular was…well he was…shall we say, eager? Of course, that makes a lot more sense now, from what you tell me. Did he at least treat those girls with respect?”

“For the most part, until he found something better.”

“Argh…isn’t that like Daddy Dearest. Mum however could not be swayed so easily. She was a virgin, and she had been brought up with certain morals. She was waiting to be married before having those kinds of relations. So she told my dad that if he wanted to sleep with her, he would have to marry her.”

“I don’t know your mother, but that sounds more like a threat than a proposal.”

“I’m not saying that it was. You have to understand Professor, my mother was madly in love with him. She didn’t want to break up with him, or give him any reason to leave her. She _wanted_ to marry him. She just thought that he was one of those guys that needed a little motivation.”

“But she didn’t know that there was more to it than a fear of commitment,” said Snape. Rose shook her head. “It would be a long time before she would find out that she married a wizard. In any case, I don’t know what was going through my dad’s head at that time. With everything he had in this world, I don’t know why he would even consider being with a Muggle, let alone marry one! But I guess his mind wasn’t in his head, but rather in his trousers because a week later, he came back and proposed. They got married in a London courthouse.”

“I still don’t understand,” Snape muttered. “I know Alistair isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I don’t see how he could be so hasty.”

Rose sighed. “You and everyone else in Wizarding Britain. The way people have tried to explain it to me is that he was very young and very foolish. Both he and my mother were no older than eighteen when they met. But still, he had a woman who loved him, took care of him, and pleasured him. I suppose it’s tough to argue with that logic.” She paused when she felt a hand on her upper arm, and she looked up at Snape’s rather serious expression. “Women are worth more than work around the house,” he said. “I sincerely hope that you mother taught you that as well.”

“Don’t worry, she did.” Rose paused to take a few breaths, gently gripping Snape’s knee. “By all appearances, they were both happy, or at least they were in those first few days. But time went by, and that’s when Dad started to come back down to earth.”

“He realized what a mistake he had made,” said Snape, unknowingly finishing Rose’s thought.

“His words exactly.” The grip on the professor’s knee started to noticeably tighten. Rose’s pretty face took on a harder look. “The one time that I asked him, that’s just the way he described his marriage…a mistake. He couldn’t believe that he had been stupid enough to marry a Muggle. He said to me that he couldn’t comprehend that he had gone against everything his family taught him and eloped with something so inferior. Yeah, he actually said that to my face.”

“Why didn’t he try and break it off right there and then?”

“If I knew, I would tell you. He didn’t even realize just how deep in it he was until just about a month later, when my mother came to him and told him that she was pregnant. They conceived on their wedding night, and I was born nine months to that day.”

“March the fifteenth, correct?” asked Snape, and Rose looked up, quite surprised. “Yeah, how did you know my birthday?”

It would have been a lot easier for Severus to tell Rose if he didn’t know just how upsetting that information could potentially be. As far as he knew, all that Rose knew about her father’s involvement with the Dark Lord was what the Ministry told her, what the papers wrote. He was just an accomplice to other people’s war crimes. For her sanity, or perhaps her innocence, Severus didn’t want to tell her just how entangled Alistair was in that web. But then, what if she already had her suspicions?

“Miss Beckett, how long were your parents married?”

“A little under two years.”

“Well, during those two years, was there ever a time when your father seemed to disappear for the night, maybe even a day or two?”

Rose thought for a while, recalling those long conversations with her mother, all the times the harried woman vented to her daughter. “Yeah, there was. Mum said that he would vanish every now and then, and she was unable to contact him. She thought he was cheating on her. But Professor, what does this have to do with my question?”

“It has everything to do with it because it’s how I remember the night you were born.”

Rose’s mouth dropped open a touch, and a cold stare emanated from her ordinarily warm eyes. “That was when he was working with Death Eaters, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, for the most part,” said Snape with a sigh. He mustered up some courage for what was surely going to be a hard story to tell. “It was during those years that he did a majority of his work for the cause. A few of us knew that Alistair had a wife at home, but he didn’t talk about her at all, and he certainly didn’t give any indication that she was expecting. The night of March the fifteenth was meant to be a big night for him because that was the night he was invited to his first Death Eater meeting.”

“He was invited…my dad was invited?” Again, Rose stammered like she didn’t want to believe it.

“At the Dark Lord’s request. I was there as well; I remember that night as clear as day. We had all gathered together and all we had to do was wait for Alistair to show up because he was late. A majority of us knew him, so we almost expected that. So we waited. An hour passed, two hours, three…the Dark Lord was starting to get very angry at your father, and that meant all of us were in trouble. He said that if Alistair didn’t show within that hour, then he was as good as dead. Finally after four hours, the poor sod Apparated into the sight. Of course, the first thing he did was fall before the Dark Lord’s feet, begging for forgiveness. The Dark Lord just glared down at him and asked why he had showed such disrespect by being so late. Alistair looked at him straight in the eye and said, _“Forgive me, my lord, but something else prevented me from being here on time.”_ The Dark Lord, the egomaniac that he was said, _“What could be more important than being here to serve me and our noble cause?”_ And I swear, I will never forget the look of utter humiliation on Alistair’s face as he said, _“My wife was in labour, and she wouldn’t let me leave.”_ Well, it seemed that the others thought this was terribly funny because they laughed up a storm. The Dark Lord only seemed slightly amused, but he did put his wand away. He then said, _“Was it at least a boy?”_ He had this thing about his followers producing sons so they could be raised to become Death Eaters. And your father turned a bright shade of red before he said, _“No…it’s a girl.”_ And then they all laughed harder. If it comforts you, Miss Beckett, he never gave us your name. The Dark Lord never truly knew your identity. He just knew that you existed.”

Rose pushed herself off the floor and turned her back to her professor. Snape noticed the way her hand clenched up at her side. He also heard her breath coming in hard puffs. “He would rather be fraternizing with Lord Voldemort than be there for the birth of his child…I don’t believe him…that bastard!”

“Calm down, Miss Beckett,” urged Snape. “It isn’t your fault that your father could not sort out his priorities.”

“I know it’s not my fault, but you try to stay cool when you find out your incarcerated parent really was doing what people say he was. You know, there was a part of me that was hoping that they were wrong. He never actually met the Dark Lord, wasn’t a major part of what those monsters did. To actually hear that it was true…” Rose turned back to face Snape. There was a glassy sheen in her eye that she quickly blinked away, and the seated wizard felt his heart knot up.

“I’m sorry that I had to be the one to tell you,” he softly said. Rose looked away again, beginning to pace the floor. “While we’re on the topic, what sort of things did he do for that snake? What sick errands did he have to run to please him?”

Snape leaned forward in his chair. “Miss Beckett, why do you want to know all of this if it clearly upsets you?”

“I just want a clearer picture. That man has been hiding from me all these years. He’s never given me a chance to know who he is.”

“You want closure?”

There was a long stretch of silence, the tick-tocking of the clock cutting through. And then, “…yes.”

Alright, this hurt! Severus had seen Rose in a vast range of emotional states, but he hated to see her like this. She was teetering on the edge of tears, but still clinging to control. That alone was enough to dishearten the Potions master. From what Minerva had mentioned over the years, Rose did not cry easily. Like Alistair before her, likely because of him, she attributed that kind of emotional outpouring to weakness, and her pride was not going to let anyone see that. If rumor was to be believed, Rose had to really trust someone to cry in front of them. Inside, Severus was kicking himself, feeling like Rose was shutting him out again.

“Are you sure that you want to know?” he asked, and Rose nodded. He motioned to the second wingchair, urging for her to sit. The conversation had grown too serious for her spot on the floor. The young woman obeyed, albeit slowly. “Alistair started out by providing funds to the Dark Lord’s cause. Death Eaters often delved into the black market, and with his family’s fortune, it was no trouble. He then took to passing on the names of Muggle-borns he knew. And by the end of the first war, there was talk that he would be brought into some of the action.”

Rose swallowed hard. “Professor Snape…was my father a Death Eater?”

“No…but he sure wanted to be one.” Snape almost expected Rose to excuse herself into the open loo so that she could weep without him watching. But instead, she kept her composure, taking deep, controlled breaths. She did also blink a few times, keeping her eyes free of mist. But what he couldn’t see was that Rose’s heart was now sitting deep in her pelvis.

Never before had Rose been so disappointed in her life. She wasn’t angry at Snape for telling her this, she wasn’t even angry at her dad for wanting to be among those masses of black robes and masks. If she was angry at anyone, it had to be herself. Maybe she was naïve. She had to be if she never thought one of her own could be one of them.

“But he never could achieve that,” she finally said, glancing up to look Snape in the eye. The wizard ran his fingers through his black hair. “No. For some reason that I never cared to find out, the Dark Lord did not see him fit to officially join. But that didn’t stop Alistair from trying. All I can say is that whatever fire that was in him at eighteen seemed to have faded with age. During the second war, he returned to providing funds and putting people up in his family home. He did not attend any more recent meetings, instead communicating through Lucius Malfoy.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Rose asked earnestly.

“The spring of 1996, at Malfoy Manor. What about you?”

“Christmas 1995, though I don’t know if I could say I actually saw him. I was alone for most of that weekend. And now I have an idea about what he was doing, who he was with. To think that when he finally stopped sending me letters towards the end of that school year, I thought it was because of me. How could I have been so stupid?! He-who-must-not-be-named returns and I haven’t heard from him since!”

“I hate to challenge your theory,” said Snape. “But I believe there might be more to it than he was just ignoring you.”

Rose scoffed. “Oh, is that so? Professor, he’s treated me like crap for most of my life. You expect me to believe that he had to abandon me to return to the Death Eaters?”

“If he hadn’t, I doubt that you would be alive tonight.”

That was obviously enough to stop Rose in her verbal tracks. Her back hit the back of her chair as her jaw dropped down. For his part, Snape did not regret saying that. That was because there was no longer any threat, and Rose ought to know just how lucky she was. Alistair was a screw-up in many pure-bred ways, but it was his very shame that kept her out of harm’s way.

“There was a reason that he never told anyone about your mother, why he didn’t openly claim you as his child. You know how ruthless the Dark Lord was, and his followers were not exempt from that. If they went back on him, the consequences were most severe. And in those cases, the penalty was death. If the Dark Lord had found out that Alistair Beckett’s wife was a Muggle, and that their union had produced a half-blood child, all three of you would have been murdered in cold blood. With such high stakes, Alistair could not be exposed for the traitor that he was.”

“But You-know-who…I mean Voldemort, he could invade people’s minds like it was no one’s business,” said Rose, rubbing her temple. “How did he keep that hidden?”

Snape glanced around the room, as if there was someone else there to eavesdrop. “As it turns out, your father has been somewhat trained as an Occlumens. He’s not very good at it…believe me, I know. But he was just good enough to protect his family’s identities, even if it was just to protect himself.”

“It doesn’t surprise me. He barely treats me like his own blood, and he doesn’t have a single nice thing to say about my mother.” Rose looked towards Snape’s desk, examining the clock from her seat. “That potion should be done by now.”

Snape followed her eye-line and noticed the time. “So it is. Come…” He led her to the other side of the room, and Rose leaned against the wall to watch him bottle the delicate little brew in its delicate little phial. Snape looked up at her, his pulse quickening in both affection and concern. “My deepest apologies again, Miss Beckett. I doubt that this was your idea of an enjoyable evening.”

“Don’t feel bad, Professor,” Rose shrugged. “I needed to know sometime, better while I’m still young. I actually appreciate you telling me what you know. It’s easier coming from you than from someone else. It still doesn’t make sense though.”

“What doesn’t?” asked Snape, carefully corking the golden potion.

“Why he left my mother when he did. Voldemort was gone by that point. He didn’t have anything to be scared of.  Why would he just abandon his family, without any reason?”

“Was it really that sudden?” asked Snape.

“Yes,” Rose answered tersely. “Mum says that one day she came home with me from a visit with my grandmother, and Dad was gone, and he had taken all of his things with him. All he left was a note basically saying that he had had a change of heart, and that their marriage was over. It took weeks to track him down again. He filed the papers, and once the divorce was final, he disappeared into the Wizarding world. There was no explanation, there was no apology.”

Snape let go of a long sigh, shaking his head slowly. “I told you that he was spineless. I can’t say for sure, but he must have given marriage a fair chance if it lasted two years.”

“Even if their marriage was a sham,” Rose interrupted.

“I never said it was. But perhaps when he really thought about it, there was something about our world and his old life that he preferred. He probably wanted to get back to the society life that he was used to, and he thought that you and your mother would hurt his reputation. That being said however, it was wrong of him to end it in the way that he did.  Alright, so Alistair screws up and makes what he considers to be a huge mistake. But abandoning your family does not make them go away. Running away does not right your wrongs.”

“You’ve got that right,” Rose muttered. Her voice got ever so louder as she spoke. “The least he could have done was treat me like I wasn’t a mistake. I get it, I was an accident. But you don’t need to look down on me because of it. And my mother…I wish he would talk about her like he could have loved her at one time. He could appreciate that she even let me see him growing up. He could acknowledge us in public!” Now Rose had raised her voice to the point of a near-shout. “Stop treating us like a mistake, for God’s sake!”

“It could have been a lot worse,” Snape spoke up above her, doing his best to quiet her down. He put down his vials and tools and walked around the small table. “He could have left while your mother was still pregnant. He could have cut all contact, and you never would have known him at all. At least he stuck around for as long as he did, and that he tried to salvage his situation. Did he ever tell you why he stayed, initially?”

“He said he had to, Mum was pregnant. They had grown up in different worlds with different morals, but that was a shared sentiment. As much as he wanted to deny it, he had to take responsibility. Of course, he went on to say that it was his responsibility and nothing else. Not because he cared…I hate him. I hate him so much.”

“Well, I’ll be…the little bastard has a conscience.” Snape carefully placed two fingers under Rose’s chin and eased her face up so that he could look into those deep, but still so brilliant blue eyes. “Miss Beckett, I understand what you are feeling, and I feel terrible that you had to go through that. But you must look at it in another way. Your father is a screw-up, but you are not. He did not play a major role in your upbringing, perhaps even refusing to do so. But by not being there, he allowed you to become who you are today.”

“He doesn’t like what I am now.”

“I believe he lost the right to pass that judgment a long time ago. All that matters is that you turned out to be a far better person than he ever was. Given the circumstances, you could have been very wary of people, resentful even. But instead, you try and treat people with respect. When people compare you to your father, you should try and spin that into a bit of a compliment.” Deep down, Severus wished that he had been able to do the same thing for himself when he was young.

He gently touched her shoulder, coaxing a small smile out of her. There, that was what he wanted to see! He turned away to walk over to his desk when Rose’s soft voice stopped him in his tracks. “Do you think he could ever change?” Snape’s chest ached; the little Beckett child was back.

“There is always that hope, I suppose,” he said. “He could be released from Azkaban a sedate man. But I don’t want to get your hopes up. In my experience, I have found such human reform to be a rarity.”

The truth was that Severus had very little faith in people’s abilities to change. With what he had endured in his youth, it was incredibly difficult to think in any other way. His home life didn’t get better as he got older. James Potter left other people alone, but not him. And Sirius Black continued to antagonize him right up to the day he died. But who was he to make Rose believe the same? At eighteen, she still had many years’ time to make amends with her father. In fact, a small part of Severus’s soul hoped to see that happen. She was too good to live with that for the rest of her life. And who knew? Prison had a way of breaking people down, especially sad little weaklings like Alistair Beckett.


	34. Rose's deepest desire

It seemed that luck was on Rose’s side for a few days because no one around her, whether they be friend or foe, thought to bring up Alistair again in conversation. The other Gryffindors had received a good whipping in the common room from Hermione, with surprisingly unexpected backup from Lavender. They reminded their less thoughtful male counterparts that Rose hated to talk about her incarcerated father, and Hermione especially made damn sure that they remembered it. The only thing that would have made it better would be if Rose had been there to see it, instead of hiding in the dungeons. Oh yes, Hermione was definitely a friend worth keeping, Lavender too! The Slytherins were also rather quiet, actually avoiding her for a while. That however might have been due to their Head of House’s now apparent favor for her. Snape had maintained a certain unpredictability that labeled everybody fair game; they didn’t want to go barking up the wrong tree.

Rose might have thought to use Snape’s support for protection if she had been in her right mind. It took a day to recover from the emotional strain that she had thrust upon herself, something that not many blamed her for (again, thank God for Hermione.) She knew that Snape didn’t intend to hurt her, he was simply telling her what he knew. He was telling her the truth, and that truth just happened to confirm everything she had feared about her father. She was the daughter of a wannabe Death Eater, and that took a lot of getting used to. But Snape was right; she had to look on the bright side of things. If he said that she was a better person than her father, then it had to be true.

Snape…

The Potions master was now a near constant fixture in Rose’s thoughts. If she felt down on herself, all she had to do was think of him and all was right with her world again. It was actually starting to get difficult to hide her feelings for him in front of her friends. On one occasion while sitting with the girls in the common room, Lavender pointed out how his face was filling out a little bit, and how his hair wasn’t nearly as oily as before. Rose turned her blushing cheek away just in time to avoid a curious glance from Hermione, one of many she seemed to get these days. She also noticed how Harry and Ron seemed to pay particular attention to her during their Potions lessons, as though to study her behavior in Snape’s presence. It was good that Rose had good control of herself, especially after realizing this. It was one thing for those two to know she had a soft spot for the up until recently greasy git. Somehow, Rose did not see either of them reacting well to the revelation that she went weak in the knees when she thought of him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Gryffindor who likes Snape as much as you do,” Hermione happened to mention as she walked with Rose, bound for the library. “I mean, you practically hang on his every word in class.”

“You say that, and you hang on _every_ teacher’s word,” said Rose, bobbing her head from side to side.

“I mean it, Rose. Parvati could feed you a juicy bit of gossip under the desks, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.”

“And there’s a problem with that?”

Hermione shook her head with a smirk. “Well no, it’s just funny considering where you started with him. Actually, I think it’s rather cute.” Rose couldn’t do anything but smile at that comment. Cute…a little fondness was cute.

She almost felt guilty in keeping Hermione out of her secret. After all, she was the last of the people who she could truly trust with anything. Harry and Ron she trusted with her life, but Hermione she trusted with her dignity. She stood by her in those long days following the war’s end, one of the only Hogwarts students to reach out to her. In reality, Hermione was a large part of what swayed her to continue her education. And out of the many souls in the castle now, Hermione was the only one to see the tears that Rose sought to hide from everyone else.

But at the same time, Hermione already knew her other big secret. The Head Girl was the first and preferably only person to find out about Rose’s love for her murdered friend, and though she had sworn that she would guard it under pain of death, something wasn’t sitting right with Rose. It was like she lost something by letting that go, gave away a piece of her very soul. And Rose was not going to let that happen now. Snape made her feel better than she had in months. Her fancy and adoration for him lifted her spirits in a way she never thought possible. To be completely honest, Rose never thought she could feel this way for another man, just as she had told Hermione. She didn’t want to share that with anyone, even if it was the girl she now considered her best friend.

**~HP~**

Severus was still having trouble adjusting to the changes to his body. It was weird to look himself in the mirror every morning and see the gentle curve of his abdomen just before it was covered with black fabric. He almost couldn’t believe what a difference a couple of weeks could make. His internal organs had to have shifted around to allow the baby more room to grow, which it apparently had. At first, Severus was worried about gaining weight so quickly, but Poppy assured him that he was right on track. It was just his thin figure that enhanced how his stomach was growing, making it more noticeable. Severus again wondered what he had done to offend some higher power to deserve this.

At least his troubling symptoms had finally begun to dissipate. Aside from having to get used to his new rounded body, Severus had been feeling more himself lately than he had in a long time. His morning sickness was finally well and truly gone, much to Severus’s great relief. He now went about his mornings without even the slightest cramp or twinge of nausea. Trips to the loo were also becoming less frequent. But the best of all was that Severus was no longer crippled by his own exhaustion. He felt healthy again, and his growing bump probably served as proof of that. Perhaps this was what it was like to feel pregnant, as opposed to an invalid.

But even though his billowing robes hid his bulging middle rather well, they couldn’t stop the slight paranoia from setting in. Severus accepted both his pregnancy and his unborn child, but the fact that his stomach was swelling made him feel almost naked in front of a full room of students, or anyone else for that matter.

The teachers were beginning to talk. He noticed a few inquisitive looks down the table when he ate, no doubt because of his increased appetite. He got the same looks if any of them caught him eating so much as an apple in between classes. He had also overheard Aurora Sinistra and Septima Vector whispering in the staffroom about how his robes seemed to be suddenly filling out, and then proceeding to snicker at the idea of offering up some dieting suggestions. For Prospero’s sake, Severus thought. These were two grown women, and they were no better than the children. At least they knew how to talk behind people’s backs. Cassandra practically cornered him in the staffroom, just to comment on how good he was looking recently. Thank Merlin that Remus swept in to preoccupy her after the fourth chit-chattery compliment, giving Severus the opportunity to escape. That mangy werewolf was turning out to be pretty useful after all. But even so, Severus didn’t even want the remaining staff members who knew about his condition to notice that he was showing, fearing that it would re-trigger the need to smother him.

Although, it might have been a little late for that.

“I still believe you should consider moving your rooms up to the ground floor,” said Minerva. She had pulled Severus off to the side after lunch, and now the two walked side by side in a remarkably empty hallway. “You could use some more fresh air in your condition. It’s better for the baby, I think. Not to mention that climbing all those stairs cannot be too good for you. It might put too much strain on your body.”

Severus was only listening with one ear. He looked away from the deputy headmistress to gaze out the large windows that looked over the walled-in courtyard. “I’m glad you brought this up with me before breaking into my quarters to start moving my things upstairs. For your information, Poppy doesn’t have any problems with me climbing stairs, not now at least. In fact, she claims that it would be good exercise. Minerva, I have been down there for eighteen years, and nothing is going to persuade me to change that.”

“If you say so,” Minerva sighed. “I’m sorry Severus, but I can’t help but worry about you. It took you long enough to decide to keep the child. I simply wish to see you through the rest of this pregnancy as safely as possible.”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” said Severus, not wanting to create a dispute out of a reasonable claim. He tugged at the hem of his frock coat, not totally aware of what he was doing, before sliding his hands into his pockets. To his unease, he could feel his bump through his clothes.

“You know, if your robes are getting a little snug, I would be happy to order some new ones for you.”

The wizard cringed. Minerva couldn’t possibly have noticed already. The offer had caused Severus to slow to a halt, and he leaned his shoulder against the ancient stone that made up a balcony. “I haven’t gained any weight,” he flat-out lied to his colleague. “And even if I had, it would be a long time before new robes had to be commissioned. There is such a thing as magical alterations, you know.”

“I would be careful, Severus,” Minerva warned. “You should never overestimate the limits of Stretching Spells.”

“Just watch me,” said Severus, stepping further into the arch to watch the little souls crossing the cloister below. Minerva hovered just behind his turned back. “You’re still not used to that idea yet, are you dear?”

“I don’t think I ever will be.” And at this rate, that was probably true. Severus couldn’t even entertain the thought of what he would look like by the spring, and he couldn’t imagine that there would come a time when he would have to.

He looked down and noticed Rose at one side of the courtyard. She was talking to an unusually chipper Hermione Granger as the two of them leaned against the wall. The bright sunshine reflected off her red hair, and her natural fairness was enhanced in the daylight. The silk scarf he sent her – pink today – was still tied to the strap of her bag, still in remarkable condition when compared to the worn canvas fabric. She had been taking care of it. Severus could have even sworn he saw her wearing it the other night. Could it be that this secret admirer of hers had finally gotten her attention, beyond getting the gifts that she thought she couldn’t have? And if so, did that mean that Severus had a chance?

No…not even in his dreams. Even if Rose could feel the same deep emotions for him, unlikely in itself, Severus couldn’t touch her. Well, not in that sort of way. If he had any hope at all of actually getting a single date with her, it would have to be after she left school. But even then, his chances were slim. What would Rose want with a guy like him? Someone as beautiful and kind as her would have no trouble attracting attention, and she would no doubt find someone, the young man of her dreams. Severus doubted that her dreams included his age, his reputation, and his less than stellar looks. And that was without his rather unexpected baby.

Rose bid goodbye to Granger and the two girls set off in opposite directions, Rose heading across the courtyard while the Head Girl went back inside the castle. Severus’s eyes followed each step she took. But just before she could leave the square, Rose decided to quickly look up. She caught sight of the Potions master on the balcony and she stopped. For what could have been the longest minute of Severus’s life, the Gryffindor stared up at him with those sparkling blue eyes, and she offered him a warm, gentle smile. And for a split second, Severus felt like he was the only man in the world. His heart raced in his chest, and the flutters in his stomach made him swallow hard. Rose then continued on her way.

Now there was a certain ache in Severus’s chest. If he didn’t know that was how Rose looked at anyone she liked, he would have thought that he had a fighting chance. There was no way that she could ever really go for him, and Severus cursed himself for wishing. He never once dreamed that he would feel so strongly for someone other than Lily. Why did he have to fall for a girl that he couldn’t have?

**~HP~**

Halloween morning brought a bright blustery day, the overwhelming smell of pumpkin and cider, and another mysterious parcel for Rose. The box was larger this time, carried in by three large gray owls. And when they dropped it before her plate of pumpkin crepes, it landed with a pretty sizable _thud._ This time however, Rose didn’t hesitate before working out the knots in the twine to get at the note.

“Look at you, Rose,” Ron smiled. “Another fancy gift? Merlin, whoever this poor bloke is, he must be bloody enchanted.”

“Be nice, Ron,” Hermione playfully scolded before pecking his cheek.

“She’s right,” said Rose. “It’s not like I’m telling _All-my-affection_ to send me these things. He just does it on his own.” Rose had taken to referring to her secret admirer as _All-my-affection_ , inspired by the way he ended his letters to her. It was originally Lavender’s suggestion; she felt that this guy needed some sort of identity. And Rose surprisingly agreed. As strange as it seemed, by giving him a name, he suddenly didn’t seem as mysterious. It was like the uneasiness was lifted slightly when they tied a name to the invisible face.

Speaking of Lavender, the blonde, curly-haired girl was currently straining her neck around Parvati to see what Rose was doing. “Well Rose, is it from him? Is it from _All-my-affection_?” Rose shoved her nail under the flap of the envelope and tore it open with a swift flick of her wrist. She pulled out the letter inside, and shook it open. With pink-flushed cheekbones, she read it aloud to her curious friends.

_“Rosie,_

_I’m pleased to see that you have made some use out of that scarf. I can understand if you didn’t want to wear it in uniform. I do hope however that you will be able to flaunt it soon enough. And just in case you haven’t figured it out yourself yet, there is a spell to manipulate the color to match your ensemble, if you would like to look into it._

_I heard about what happened in one of your classes, how a few other people brought up your father in discussion. I know what happened to him, and I can only imagine what his prison term has inflicted on you. I am sorry that those thoughts had to be stirred up again. I sincerely hope that this makes up for some of that. Just know that no matter what people say about him, you are not your father. His faults are not yours. And from what I’ve heard about that man, you are obviously a much more pleasant, appealing person. Remember that, love!_

_All my affection”_

“Did he actually just call you love?” said Harry, an odd quirk in his brow to match the tweak in his mouth when he noticed how Rose didn’t even flinch, not even at the dreaded R-word. “Oi, Ron’s right. The poor guy’s fallen pretty hard.”

“I don’t know Harry,” Neville jumped into the conversation as Luna floated over from the Ravenclaw table to sit at his side. “I don’t think he’s gone that far yet.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Rose, folding the letter back up to stow away in her bag. Neville leaned forward to prop his elbow on the tabletop. “Well, if he truly was crazy about you, I think he would be showing his feelings for you in a bunch of different ways. He’s just been sending you presents and writing pretty tame notes.”

“I agree,” said Luna, slowly nodding her head. “If I were a secret admirer, I would be going out of my way to show my feelings for you. I would be leaving other little trinkets in other places, places where you usually spend time.”

Rose’s uneasy eyes shifted to Hermione, and then back to Luna. “Right…so he’s got to start stalking me to know that he’s serious?”

“Not necessarily,” Neville corrected his girlfriend. “I think what Luna is trying to say is that he would be doing a lot more to show you how much he cares. He might even give you some clues to his real identity.”

“I think that he’s just shy, or maybe he’s scared to approach Rose,” Hermione offered up, taking a sip of chilled cider.

“See, that’s what I said.” Lavender wagged her finger at them. Hermione nodded to her, though not without a quick roll of her eyes. “And as far as the letters go, I can guess that he’s smart enough to know not to fill them with personal fluff. He wants to show his fondness for Rose, not scare her.” The aforementioned ginger girl cocked her eyebrow in a way that almost said, _‘Who said anything about me being scared?’_

Harry turned to his right and looked at Rose. “What do you have to say, Rose?”

“I don’t know,” Rose shrugged, going back to work at the twine. “I can’t stop him from doing this…and I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I want to.” A small grin broke across her face as she tried to hide her blush behind her hair.

“Well, what do you know?” Harry smiled, gently nudging her shoulder. “Way to go, Beckett. After all that shit going on about your dad, you deserve to have someone make you feel special. He’s right, by the way. You’re not like your dad. I don’t know the guy, but you’re the better person in the family if he’s in prison and you’re not.”

“Thanks Harry,” said Rose with a weak smile. She finally got the string untied and out of the way, and she tore the paper wrapping off the box. It had a lid on it, which Rose lifted off very carefully. Inside was a pair of women’s black boots made of softened leather. Reaching up to the middle calf, they had a thick heel of an inch or two, and they laced up the front with thin satin strips. Intricate designs in black thread were stitched around the ankles and up the sides. They were quite the stark contrast to the black Mary Jane heels that Rose ordinarily wore.

“Damn!” Rose exclaimed, unable to say much else.

“Damn, I wanted those!” Parvati groaned.

“Damn, me too!” Lavender agreed with a near whine.

“Damn, they’re just shoes!” Ron said sarcastically, swiping his hands through the air. Rose looked across the table, lifting one of the boots out of the box. “These are more than just shoes, Ron. These are from a special, limited collection at Madam Malkin’s, and they’re only sold through _Witch Weekly_. Not that many pairs were made, so these are hard to come by.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Women…always making mountains out of molehills when it comes to your clothes.”

“And you don’t do the same thing with foreign broomsticks?” Hermione teased, though her tone was laced with sarcasm. Ron sneered at her with a mischievous grin. “Hey don’t start with me, Mione.”

 Rose swung her legs over the table and started to unbuckle the shoes she wore. She then went to work on the laces of her new boots. Carefully she slipped them on her feet, one by one, and slowly tied them up again. Once she was finished, Rose sat back and stared down at her new fancy footwear. They looked good in the pages of a magazine, but they looked great on her. If only she were wearing jeans instead of a pleated skirt, because then she would look fantastic. These were not going to come off, Rose didn’t care how many points she lost for uniform violations.

By some impulse, she looked up to the head table and found Snape sitting in his usual spot. He ran his fingers through his hair, exposing his face, and make Rose’s heart do a quick flip. But it also got her thinking. This poor boy, whoever he was, was trying so hard to grab her attention. And in many ways, he had succeeded. But just because he had her attention did not mean that he had her heart. As much as Rose wanted to feel something for this guy, Snape stole anything she might have had. A simple glance at her in class, or even in the halls seemed to make all of her troubles go away. Even though her love had been stolen long before, the Potions master was doing a mighty fine job at distracting her from those sad memories. He did that while remaining blissfully unaware of it all.

If _All-my-affection_ wanted to earn _her_ affection, he certainly had a bit of work cut out for him. After all, Snape had her swooning, and he didn’t have to buy her anything.

**~HP~**

Severus never was much of a holiday person, and Halloween was no exception to that. With the kids all jacked up on more sugar than their scrawny little bodies could handle, it was enough to make Severus want to lock himself in his office, and push his ingredients cabinet up against the door. Oh, and soundproof the room to block out those exceedingly aggravating voices. He always took some time to try and figure out which one of his colleagues he had to strangle for giving the little monsters sweets before sicking them on him. And that was any ordinary year. This year, his irritation was made worse by the fact that his pregnancy cravings were driving him crazy. At least three different times, he confiscated chocolate bars from unsuspecting students for things that they didn’t even know broke school rules. They were then eaten during Severus’s brief breaks.

Thank goodness that Albus noticed Severus’s changing palate and took pity on him. After lunch, a pair of house elves popped into the Potions master’s office with a basket filled with various sweets, mostly different varieties of chocolate. Severus shook his head and rolled his dark eyes at the little gift, but he did not send it back. As irritating as that old man could be at times, he could be so useful when he needed to be.

And it didn’t hurt that the object of Severus’s affection was a self-confessed chocoholic.

“Professor Snape, you are awesome!” Rose proclaimed as she inspected each of the bars her professor had laid out for her on his desk. He had just told her to take what she wanted, while keeping the remainder of his stock hidden away in his office. “Professor Flitwick didn’t even give us this much. Where did you get all of these chocolate bars?”

“Well Miss Beckett, you know how the headmaster loves his festivities. He’s also the type of person who won’t take something back once he’s given it to you.”

The Gryffindor swished red hair out of her face and picked up two large bars before hoisting herself up onto the front desk. “I believe that, sir. Am I the only one that you’ve given this stuff to?”

“Actually no,” Snape shook his head. “Mister Malfoy helped himself earlier. He said it was important.”

Rose laughed in her throat, an evil little sneer creeping across her face. “He needed something to pacify that girlfriend of his, didn’t he?”

Snape rolled his eyes, though not without a smirk. “Given how Parkinson can be on _very certain_ days, even I have to feel sorry for him. But other than him, you are the only other student.” The schoolgirl malice disappeared from Rose’s face, replaced by a relaxed glance and a kind smile. She thanked him politely, though she didn’t have to say a thing. Severus could tell what she was thinking just by looking at her. Rose was one of those people whose eyes seemed to speak louder than words.

Rose had come to discover that there would be no work, no petty chores for her that night. Actually, all Snape seemed to be interested in was getting at one of those toffee chunk bars. It was as though he had been waiting for the chance all day, which was likely considering Rose never saw him eating sweets any other time of day. Was it out of character? A little bit, yes. Was it bizarre? Oh yes, of course! But did it sway Rose? Not in the slightest. If anything, this little weakness made Snape more human. And that only made her adore him more.

She decided to make herself comfortable before tearing into her own chocolate. She pulled her legs up onto the desktop and crossed them under her skirt. “I must say, Beckett,” she heard Snape say. “Those are an interesting choice of footwear.” Rose looked down and realized that she was still wearing the boots she received that morning. She blushed as she looked up at Snape’s arched brow.

“Oh, you think so? They are interesting, aren’t they sir?” Rose stuck a foot out to admire the leather wrapped around it. She bit off a mouthful of chocolate for unneeded emphasis.

“You obviously think so since you have been wearing them all day, blatantly ignoring the school dress code.”

The Gryffindor swung her leg off the desk, rolling her blue eyes. “I didn’t want to take them off, I love them too much. Come on Professor, look at them. They’re too nice to sit in a box for weeks! Besides, you know that Professor McGonagall deducted ten points. Come to think of it, I’m surprised that you didn’t take any more from Gryffindor when I was in your class.”

“Like you said,” replied Snape. “I already knew what your Head of House had done so. Let’s be frank, why deduct points twice for the same stupid thing?”

“Because it sounds like something you would do.” The teacher and the student laughed together, and Rose peeled off more of her wrapping.

Privately, Snape was thrilled to hear that Rose liked the boots. Better than that, she loved them! It had been another expensive gamble, and once again, it paid off. Pride swelled up in his chest, fighting for dominance with his rapidly beating heart. But still he felt a bit insecure about whether or not this was Rose’s taste speaking. “I’m guessing that those boots are new since I haven’t seen you wear them before. Not to pass any judgment on you, but those look pretty pricey.”

“Well…” Rose hesitated, her face twitching. “I can’t really deny that. Believe me, Professor. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have these. I can’t really afford them on my own.”

“What happened then? Did your father leave you some money that you’ve finally decided to spend on yourself?”

“Actually, they were a gift,” said Rose, curtly. She diverted her eyes to the side of the room, avoiding Snape’s gaze. Of course, she heard the Potions master’s voice asking the obvious question. “From who? I doubt that your mother has overlooked the trouble you have stirred up in recent weeks.”

“I…um…actually,” Rose stammered, blushing hard. She looked to the floor and cracked a smile before looking up at her teacher again. “You remember my green jacket, and the scarf I’ve got on my schoolbag?”

“I do,” Snape nodded.

“They were all sent by the same person. I…I can’t believe I’m telling you this…they were from my secret admirer.” The Gryffindor noticed how Snape’s ebony eyebrows arched up, unaware that he had been expecting that very statement. Snape feigned surprise for both the sake of his own cover, and just to keep Rose happy. He didn’t want to take any chances that indifference would offend her.

“I must say, that is something that I don’t hear every day. Secret admirer, I suppose it would be prudent to say that you don’t as of yet know who this young man is.”

“That’s right Professor, and that’s my trouble. He’s sent me several packages, and he sends a note with each one of them. But he never tells me his name. He doesn’t even give me clues. It’s totally anonymous.”

Severus breathed a very secret, very silent sigh of relief. As much as he adored Rose’s cleverness, for once he was glad for her cluelessness. “What does he tell you, if not his name?”

“Just that he fancies me,” said Rose, breaking off a square of her chocolate and stuffing it into her mouth. “He tells me how lovely he finds me, although he seems to like my personality more. He keeps going on about how kind and compassionate I am, how I deserve to be appreciated.”

“Is that so?” asked Snape, not-so-cynically sneering. “He must be quite fond of you considering how expensive his gifts appear.”

“Harry and Ron said the same thing this morning,” Rose mentioned, giggling briefly. “And he obviously knows that I like them, since I’m not exactly shy about wearing them.”

“How does he know what to get you?”

“A friend of mine lost my _Witch Weekly_ a while back. I had the shopping section all marked up. The assumption is that he found it and got ideas from there.”

Snape nodded. He bit into his own freshly unwrapped chocolate, chewed and swallowed. “You know, for a lady who is possibly being stalked, you are taking this awfully well.”

“That’s because it doesn’t really feel like I’m being stalked,” said Rose.

“What do you mean?” asked the Potions professor, almost inching to the edge of his seat. Rose leaned back, propped up by her arms. “ _All-my-affection_ – that’s what I call him – he doesn’t mention any intimate details, like he knows what I’m doing every minute of every day. He doesn’t say that he desperately wants to be with me, that I’m the only one for him. All he really does is tell me how special he thinks I am, and that he wants me to feel good about myself.”

“And does it work?”

Rose was quiet for a moment or two before she smiled bashfully and nodded. “Yeah…it really does.”

Severus’s heart just about sang when he heard that. He had officially accomplished everything he had intended to do when he thought to send Rose those gifts under the guise of an infatuated teenager. He made her realize just how wonderful she could be, made her happy. That however was not going to deter him from doing it again. He made a mental note to confiscate the first copy of _Witch Weekly_ he could get his hands on.

“Well, rightfully so,” he told her. Rose’s little admission had left him with a surge of courage, probably helped along by the sugar and caffeine coursing through his body. His hormones might have also had a thing or two to do with it. Under his desk, Severus’s hand brushed against his stomach. “I can understand why this boy would fancy a girl like you. For one, you are quite a lovely girl. I’ve told you that once before, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. And as I’ve observed countless times, both here and out in the halls, you have a personality that a lot of people could admire. In terms of choices around these parts for a sixteen or seventeen year-old boy, I would say that someone like you would be pretty enticing.”

“Professor Snape, don’t make me laugh,” said Rose, looking down again so that her hair veiled her grin.

“Hard to believe, Miss Beckett, but I was once a teenaged boy myself. And I’m not ashamed to admit that I did tend to prefer the nicer girls to the Parkinsons-of-the-past.”

_‘Oh…oh my god!’_ Rose thought to herself. Did Snape actually just say that? She kept reality in mind, of course. The twenty some years since had probably had an effect on Snape, and she obviously knew that his romantic attentions had long since been drawn elsewhere. But if the saintly Lily Potter had not existed, he might have gone for someone like her. And he said that she was lovely! Sure it was just a compliment, but he did say it. Intense shudders overtook her insides, and she was washed over with a wave of warmth. It had been a long time since she had felt like this, and it was wonderful to experience those emotions again.

But no matter how in the moment Rose was, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to the last time someone had made her feel so adored. She wasn’t going to let those memories get the better of her again after so many revisits. But they would stay with her for the rest of the night.

She was focused on Snape, but she was letting her mind wander back to him.

**~HP~**

_The darkness of deep night engulfed her in its sea of soothing stillness. She looked up at the full moon hanging high above her head, a brilliant pearl resting in midnight blue sprinkled with sparkling gems. She saw the branches of the old dogwood hovering over, the course bark creeping ever downward to become the support for her body. What would be dying red leaves had become the pink and white flowers of spring. There was barely a sound on the air beyond her quiet breath._

_But she was not alone._

_She leaned back into a broad chest and felt the warmth of his body against hers. She breathed in deep, taking in the smell of his cologne. Spices… parsley and cloves. They relaxed her, turning her tense frame into a giggling mess of jelly. A careful arm came around her shoulders and across her chest, enveloping her in a loving embrace. Together they rocked where they sat, and she rested her head against his collarbone. He tucked her head under his defined chin. She heard him humming his pleasure, felt his larynx vibrating against her skin. She smiled in return. Oh, how he soothed her without lifting a finger!_

_“The moon doesn’t compare to you, Rose. I don’t think it ever could.” His voice was soft, yet still so sound in the quiet of the night…just as it always was. “Love you…”_

_She brought a hand up to clasp the ring hanging on a chain around her neck. His ring… solid silver bearing the crest of the Slytherin snake. A snow white hand came up to cover hers. She felt his soft, delicate lips touch her forehead._

_Darkness…_

_They were running across the grounds by the lake. The castle was merely a silhouette in the distance. He held her hand in his, tugging her on their way, though not hurting her. On a hill, he stopped to gather her in his arms and twirl her around. She held onto his neck, giggling the whole time. He set her down on the ground, but she wanted to be playful. She tugged his shirt and they both went rolling down the hill. They came to rest at the water’s shore, side by side. They were nearly overcome by their laughter._

_She turned over to lay across his body. She rested against that well-built frame, and he held her closer. She stroked the soft skin of his pale cheek, ran her fingers through his thick, brown hair. She felt his gentle breath on her face as she gazed into his eyes…his incredible blue eyes. It was as though he could see right through to her soul. His smile begged her for more, and she brought their lips together. She felt his hand cupping the back of her head. He flipped her over onto her back and deepened their kiss._

_Darkness…_

_She suddenly found herself in a long stone hall. Pillars stood like ancient sentries on either side. The air was dense and bitter, and the quiet that was once pleasing was now quite troubling. She looked to her right side, and then her left. There was no one there. He was gone. She was utterly alone._

_At the end of the room, she saw something. A great, tall mirror seemed to be propped up on thin air at the center of the floor. Curious, she carefully stepped forward. She felt the shadows creeping over her like phantoms, desperate to feel the warmth of the living. Her footsteps sounded more like gunshots in such dense silence. As she got closer, she saw the cobwebs dangling from the sculpted designs of the frame. This mirror was old, really old. And yet, despite this decay of age, the glass was spotless, shining off what little light there was. She got closer still, and now she could see words carved into the wood, above the arch._

‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi’

_She was struck with a sudden bolt of recognition. Harry once described a mirror exactly like this, with words like that. So had Ron. They looked into it and saw more than their own reflections. Ron saw greatness while Harry saw a family long gone. They saw their true desires, known and unknown. She knew that she would look into the glass pane and would see what she desperately wanted, whether she liked it or not. Gulping down hard, she stepped up to the mirror, prepared for the haunting image she knew would be there. She walked up expecting to see his beautiful face, his piercing eyes staring at her from the beyond._

_Her eyes widened at the sight she was met with._

_She saw the face of Severus Snape. Black hair seemed to fall just around a pale, but not sickly face, and his eyes held all the warmth she knew was there, deep down. He was the picture of perfect health, his stare was peaceful, and he was smiling. He was smiling at her. She felt that fluttering in her stomach and she smirked. He was handsome, free of the harsh scorn that the world saw and expected._

_She watched as Snape gently touched the arm of her reflection. She noticed the glittering smile on her face, and the certain sparkle in her eyes. She watched Snape slowly turn her body to face him, and he wrapped his arms around her slim torso. Her mirror-self flung her hands around his shoulders and nuzzled into his neck. Snape tightened his embrace and buried his face in her red hair, letting his eyes drift closed. He planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head._

_She felt her heart twist and sink, a familiar tension grasping her insides. She panted, feeling the heat that had suddenly come over her. And she pawed at the image before her, only to be blocked by cold glass._

**~HP~**

Rose woke with a start, slowly pushing herself up to sit in bed. The soft t-shirt she slept in was dampened with perspiration, as was her face. Rose wiped a hand across her forehead as she tried to get a look of her surroundings. The room was dark, the sky outside the window still pitch black. She could hear Hermione shuffling her sheets as she turned over in her sleep. Only when she settled again did Rose let go of the breath that she had been holding.

She couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was the same dream that had plagued her for weeks. It was the same dream that tortured her in her waking hours. It was the dream that made her miss her sweet friend, long for the relationship that never happened. But never before had she seen that mirror. She just couldn’t believe it. That mirror was supposed to show you your deepest desires, and she thought that it would be her lost friend. And yet, she had seen Snape. Even there in bed, she could feel his touch, that kiss. The thought of Snape’s hands on her made her gasp for breath as quietly as she could. To see him hold her like that caused her gut to twist in a way that she knew all too well.

And suddenly Rose knew...she was in love. As she lay her head back down to sleep, that was all she could think of, and it kept her tossing and turning for another hour. She was in love…she was in love with Severus Snape.


	35. No pain is deeper

Rose found herself in a slight daze for a few days since Halloween. It wasn’t a drastic change, nothing that her friends would attribute to anything more than a chocolate overdose. But she did spend quite a lot of time thinking. Realizing her true feelings for Snape had left her with a bizarre sensation. On one hand, she was happy. She was in love with another man after months of sorrow. She felt connected to a man who made her feel more special than anyone else alive, and in just a few short weeks. He captivated her in a way that made her heart sing each time he spoke to her. But on the other, she was infatuated with her teacher. Rose could bend the rules like the rest of them, but there were rules that were just not meant to be broken.

All Rose could do was keep this new love as secret as her first. Not only would that save her from persistent torture from her housemates, but it would prevent anything from getting back to Snape. The last thing she wanted to happen was for him to find out how she felt. She just didn’t know if she could take another broken heart.

But hold on a second, she kept saying to herself. She didn’t even know if the love she was feeling was the real thing. Her feelings for her late friend happened over the course of several years, getting stronger and stronger as time went by. Though she had known Snape just as long, her love for him seemed to pounce on her when least expected, and so soon after losing her first love. What if her emotions were just playing tricks on her? The vulnerable mind did have a way of twisting things around.

“How do you know when you’re in love?” Professor Wicker said in between sips of tea. The question was an echo in response to Rose, who was sitting directly opposite the little glass table at the far side of the very florally decorated office, stirring a lump of sugar into her cup. “I don’t think there’s a definitive answer for that one. I’ve met a great ragtag of people over the years, and they all handle those emotions differently.”

“I assumed that much, Professor,” said Rose. “But how can you tell when it’s actually love you’re feeling, not just a crush?”

Wicker smiled, her big brown eyes shining in the midmorning light. “Forgive my nosiness, but are you asking me this because there’s a certain someone that’s caught your eye?”

“Why else?” said Rose, not really in the mood to lie to the Muggle Studies professor. She just hoped that Wicker wouldn’t try and get a name out of her.

“Well, isn’t that delightful!” Wicker was bubbling with glee, a white grin stretching across her face. “Would I be so fortunate as to get to hear the lucky lad’s name?” The Gryffindor rolled her bright blue eyes. Why did she even try?

“No,” Rose said casually, but with a certain firmness in her voice. “Technically, he doesn’t even know that he’s the lucky lad.”

Wicker nodded her understanding. She tucked loose strands of her brunette hair behind her ear. “I see. Well Rose, I think the only person who can tell for sure is you.”

“But that’s my problem. I don’t know if I can.”

Rose certainly wasn’t begging for a solution, but she probably had slunk down to the level of pleading. Wicker seemed to understand without words that this was not the first time that Rose had been infatuated with someone. She also probably guessed that her past experiences either didn’t end well or went un-pursued. In any case, she took a long moment to think before opening her mouth to speak again. “All you have to do is listen to your heart. I was eighteen once too; I remember the hard crushes I had in school. But I’ll tell you, the first time you genuinely fell in love with someone, you know it!”

“How?” asked Rose, forgetting her now lukewarm tea.

“It’s the little things, dear. It’s the little things that tell you that it’s more than just a fancy. You think about that person in ways beyond sheer physical attraction. It can be tough to keep your mind off them all together. Do you think about this boy often?”

“More than I should,” Rose admitted, and Wicker giggled. “Don’t we all? Do you know him well?”

“I do,” said Rose, nodding her head. _‘Or he knows me well, at the very least.’_

“Well, I think you have something when there aren’t secrets between you anymore,” said Wicker as she poured out another warm cup for herself. She reached for the sugar dish and her usual three spoonfuls. “You also feel spectacular when you’re around this person. You feel like you are the only people on earth when you’re with them, you don’t have eyes for anyone else. You want this boy for everything that he is, and you can’t picture your life without him.”

Rose swallowed. At least she knew that her first love was real.

“I think what you’re feeling is probably something very genuine, Rose. Emotions can be a fickle thing, but love is too complicated to pin on just anybody. He just has to give you what you feel that you need, and then some. Does he treat you well when he’s around you? Does he make you feel special when he speaks to you?” Rose nodded to both questions, and Wicker continued. “Then I’d be surprised if you didn’t find yourself over the moon. Just take it day by day, and soon enough, it will all come together and make sense. I’m a firm believer that real love doesn’t happen without good reason.”

Rose stopped herself just short of asking what to do when that real love was more than likely – no – most definitely unrequited.

**~HP~**

She had been walking from the Muggle Studies classroom on her own when she was stopped by a great shout calling her name. Slightly jolted, Rose turned around to see Harry jogging up to her. He slid the last few feet before stopping in front of her and leaning against the stone wall.

“Thank Merlin that I found you,” he huffed. “I was hoping to catch you before class.”

“Breathe, Harry,” Rose coached with a chuckle. “What’s going on? I mean, what’s so important that you had to run after me?”

“I thought you’d want to know this sooner rather than later.” Harry finally got his second wind and straightened himself off the wall. “I just got back from talking with Demelza. Emily’s got a nasty stomach virus; they just took her out of Herbology class. Madam Pomfrey wants to keep her in the hospital wing for two or three days.”

Rose’s brow perked up at the mention of the Fourth year’s name. Emily Block was one of their chasers, and she was sick. The first Quidditch match of the season was that weekend. “So that means…”

“That means you’re playing tomorrow,” the Head Boy finished for her, nodding his head. Rose couldn’t stop herself from cracking a smile at the news. She liked Emily and all, and it was unfortunate to hear that she wouldn’t be eating much for a day or two. But that didn’t stop her suppressed mean streak from rising up to revel in someone else’s misfortune. She was actually going to play a match for crying out loud!

Harry smirked at her. “I told you that you’d want to hear that now. Tell the truth. You didn’t think that was going to happen, did you?”

“Not really, no,” said Rose, shaking her head. Harry rested a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I just want to get in one last practice this afternoon, so you’ll be ready. It’ll just be you, me, Ron, and Dean. I want to be out there immediately after Double Potions. You know, if you happen to run into Snape, do you think you could persuade him to let the four of us go early?”

“I don’t have that kind of power, Harry. Besides, we shouldn’t be leaving early. You never know if it could screw us over down the road.”

“Good point,” said Harry. He looked down at his watch. “Alright, I’ll let you go. Remember, immediately after classes let out!” The two of them said their goodbyes and turned to head in opposite directions. Rose had to work pretty hard to contain her excitement. As much as she wanted to, it didn’t seem that appropriate to go skipping down the halls. Nah, too much Schadenfreude for one day.

**~HP~**

For some reason, it felt like time was starting to speed up because Rose felt like she had to rush for the rest of the morning. After leaving Wicker’s class, she rushed off to find a quiet spot to write very fast letters to Jonny, Natasha, as well as her mother. She then dashed up to Owlery to send them off before Transfiguration. She was all out of breath when McGonagall tapped her desk to wish her early luck.

The upcoming game was the hot topic at the Gryffindor table at lunch, and Rose was more than happy to contribute for once. Hermione warmheartedly joked that this was the most enthusiastic Rose had been about the sport in years. Ordinarily, some might have been offended that she was so delighted to be playing Quidditch, considering that something had to happen to someone else for it to take place. But Harry had seen it happen enough times over the past several years to call it normal. It was the nature of being a reserve player. They worked hard in case they were needed, and now one was needed. They had the right to be a little eager.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose looked up to see that Snape’s seat was empty. She briefly wondered where the Potions master was; he had looked fine that morning at breakfast. And frankly, she didn’t want to wait to find out. Feeling a quick bolt of energy that rushed to every part of her body, Rose quickly finished up her meal and grabbed her things to make for the door. “Where are you going?” asked Hermione.

“I’m going down to talk to Snape,” said Rose, rather casually.

“Again?” The Head Girl wrinkled her brow. In the past few days, Rose seemed to be spending quite a deal of her time with their Potions professor, a great deal more than every odd evening. Rose however was quick to produce an excuse. “I want to ask him a question about last night’s homework assignment, just in case he brings it up in today’s lesson.” She turned to go.

“Hang on, Rose,” Harry spoke up, causing Rose to stop in her tracks. She turned around to look at him with a less-than-amused stare. “What?”

“I don’t know about this. We’re going up against Slytherin tomorrow and Snape’s probably heard by now that you’re standing in for Emily. What if Snape tries to get some of our strategies out of you to pass on to Malfoy?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Rose laughed. “It’s nice to know that you have such _immense faith_ in my ability to keep a secret.”

“I – uh – fine, whatever, go,” Harry stuttered, waving his hand at her. “Just whatever you do, _don’t talk about the match_. I can’t afford to have Slytherin get the upper hand on us.”

“You have my word.” Rose then spun on her heel and headed off. Behind her turned back, her housemates couldn’t see the crooked half-smile, half-frown she fought to suppress. She felt bad for lying to Harry; he would never betray her trust like that. But even though Rose had gleefully spoken to many that morning, there was no one she was more excited to talk to than Snape. If that man was going to find out about Gryffindor’s lineup from anybody, it ought to be her.

**~HP~**

She carefully pushed open the unlocked door to the Potions classroom and found Snape behind his desk, leaning over a cauldron. His head snapped up, looking a bit startled. But once he got a look at who his intruder was, he let his face relax. Snape blew out a quick little breath. “Miss Beckett, what are you doing down here?”

“I just thought I’d stop by,” Rose explained. “Didn’t see you up in the Great hall, and I wondered where you were.”

“Well, as you can see, I am busy.” Snape motioned to the tools and ingredients spread out before him. “Madam Pomfrey apparently has a violently ill student, and is in urgent need of Nourishment Draughts.”

“Oh,” said Rose, blushing. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later tonight.”

“I never said that,” said Snape, cocking his head to her. “Come to think of it, I could finish faster if I had some help. You have some time, I trust. Would you mind?”

“Oh no, not at all.” Rose floated over to the front, dropping her bag and books on an empty desk. Snape immediately set her to the task of dicing up a pile of nettle leaves. It wasn’t long before the Potions master started speaking again. “So I overheard your Head of House talking in the staffroom. She was harping about one of her chasers falling ill right before a match and how her one reserve has to fill in now.”

Rose caught the inevitable giggle, instead smirking at her teacher. “So you did hear about that,” she said. “Jeez, word does get around fast.”

“Only because Gryffindors have a habit of questioning their luck very loudly.” Snape stuck up a thin finger before Rose had a chance to protest. “That being said, Professor McGonagall did say that she had faith in your abilities.”

“As she should, I’ve been there for most of the practices. Harry’s worked me just as hard as everyone else. I’ve got this completely under control.”

“So you say now,” said Snape. “I’ve seen teams fall apart because the reserves couldn’t mesh with the full time players. It’s been the downfall of many a match in the eighteen years that I’ve been here.”

“If that’s the case, then it’s good that it’s Block who’s laid up in the hospital wing,” said Rose, shaking her head. She rolled her eyes and continued with her work. _‘At least I look to see who’s got the Quaffle before I go in to steal.’_

The two of them were quiet for a moment while Rose carefully added the little nettle bits to the simmering cauldron. Snape then told her to go into the cupboards and find five suitable bottles, which Rose did quite easily. She carefully carried them over to the sink to wash them out while the potion finished brewing.

“So how are you feeling now that you have a full match ahead of you?” asked Snape, attracting Rose’s attention back.

“Pretty good, actually,” she said, rinsing the glass bottles under cold water. “Harry thinks that we’ll be fine tomorrow, so I’m not that worried. Nah, I’m ready to go.”

“You’re not nervous at all?”

“Not a bit. If anything, I’m itching to get out there. That’s what said in the letter I wrote to my mum earlier.”

_‘So she did tell sweet Muggle mother,’_ Snape privately thought to himself. From what he had heard from Rose, the former Mrs. Beckett did not seem at all the type of Muggle who would take to their customs easily. Please, Rose said that the woman fought to keep her magic under pointless control. “Does your mother even know what Quidditch is?”

“She does, sort of,” Rose replied. Snape wrinkled his brow; he hadn’t expected that answer. “I tried explaining the rules of the game to her a few times, and she still doesn’t get it. At this point, I just let her assume that it’s like football on brooms.”

“I assume that you left out all of the ways in which people can be injured while playing, am I right?”

“Please, she’s worried enough about me flying. I wasn’t going to tell her how people can get their heads smashed in. That would be stupid! And furthermore, I wouldn’t tell her that those injuries often happen on purpose.” Rose looked at Snape out of the corner of her eye with a soft glare.

Snape smirked. “What’s that look?”

“I think you know, Professor,” said Rose. “When people get hurt during Hogwarts’ Quidditch, it always seems to be when Slytherin is playing.” She gathered the clean bottles in her hands and carried them over to the head desk.

“Hold it right there, Miss Beckett,” said Snape, stirring the nearly finished brew. “If you have a bone to pick with my house’s team, take it to them. I have nothing to do with that.”

Rose for her part was most skeptical. She drummed her nails at the wood of Snape’s desk. “You mean to tell me that you have no part in how Slytherin plays? You don’t tell them to fly around and knock people off brooms like a band of brutal thugs?”

“I only tell them to do what they must to win.” Snape shook his head at Rose. “I never tell them to resort to violence. They come to that conclusion on their own.”

“I don’t believe you,” Rose said in a firm, but teasing manner. Snape cocked his eyebrow at her in response. “And I don’t believe that you are totally worry-free about tomorrow.”

Rose’s grip on the bottle in her hand loosened. Whenever she thought she had everyone fooled, Snape was always the first to see right through her. As sure as she was of her Quidditch abilities, there was still some sense of apprehension nipping away at her. She knew that she could play; she could fly, hang on to the Quaffle, score points. She knew that she worked well with her teammates. But this was all based off what happened during practices. What if she got out there in front of the entire school population and choked for some reason? What if Slytherin was more cunning than they were ready for? What if she made some mistake that cost them the game? Rose kept on trying to put her worries out of her head. After all, none of her friends brought anything up. But the Potions master reminded her that there was just no shaking it.

Snape continued, bringing her back into the here and now. “What do you say to that, Miss Beckett?” It was almost like he was challenging her to confirm the suspicions that he no doubt had. Rose tried to smirk, but failed miserably, and Snape noticed right away. “Ah, not as confident as you let on, are you?”

“Well, you wouldn’t be either if you were in my place. It’s a lot of pressure to have on your shoulders.”

“I can imagine, considering how it’s my house you will be facing tomorrow. If it were Hufflepuff, I would tell you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about. But then, the Quidditch cup was mine for seven years straight. You wouldn’t want to let that happen again, now would you?”

“Not helping, sir!” Rose scolded with a crooked smirk. “And for the record, we are ready for anything your dastardly little snakes can throw at us.”

“Simple words, Beckett. I will be there tomorrow, so I will be the judge of that.”

Suddenly, there was a light clinking sound as a bottle hit the stone floor, somehow managing to stay intact. Rose blushed; she was the one who accidently knocked it off the desk. Drawing the offending hand closer to her body, she quickly glanced at Snape. “Oh, so sorry sir. How clumsy of me.” She bent over to pick it up as Snape moved to do the same.

“No allow me, Miss Beckett,” he said, rather politely.

“I’ve got it, Professor,” Rose fired back as they reached for the bottle at the same time. Their hands brushed against each other before either of them could touch the glass. Both the professor and his student froze for half a second, black eyes fixed on the blue. Rose then let out a quick chuckle and pushed the bottle closer to Snape with two delicate fingers. “You…you probably want to fill that up.”

“Yes, of course.” Snape grabbed the bottle and straightened himself again to get back to work. He prayed to every deity he could think of that there wasn’t any change to the pigmentation in his face. He already had to concentrate on keeping his breath quiet and even.

“So you are going to be there tomorrow,” said Rose. “I heard talk that you would possibly sit this one out.”

“Nonsense, I would never miss one of Slytherin’s games, especially against the likes of Gryffindor.” The Potions master watched her out of the corner of his eye while managing to keep steady control of his hand. He handed the filled bottle off to Rose, who was waiting with a small stopper in her hand. Snape then set himself to filling another. “It’s strange though. I don’t believe you would be as interested in my presence if you were on the sidelines.”

Rose glanced up to the ceiling and shook her head. She wiped a hand down the front of her face, partly to hide the pink in her cheeks. “Guilty,” she admitted. “I confess I do like to have certain people see what I can do. Professor Wicker already said she would be there – she’s all excited for me – and I hoped that you would as well.”

“So I can sit back and watch your house defeat mine, correct?” asked Snape, rather sarcastically. Rose lightly bopped her head to the side and smiled. “Of course.”

Severus smiled in return, turning his visual attention back to his work. He was washed over with pleasant warmth, and it wasn’t from the cauldron beside him. For a moment, he relished in Rose’s sweet presence. He could still feel the softness of her hand on his, sending shivers throughout his body. The pull towards her was unbearable. How he wanted to lay his hands on her, caress her beautiful face. Severus fought off the yearning to press his lips to her pale, freckled skin, and his chest ached in response.

“Professor Snape, can I ask you a question?” Rose spoke in a quieter, more tentative manner. It was still enough to bring Snape’s attention back, and he said, “Considering how you just did exactly that, I suppose you could.”

“Do you think I will be good tomorrow?”

Severus stopped what he was doing, lowering both the bottle and ladle in his hands down to his desk. Oh dear, now this was a problem! At first impulse, he wanted to tell her that she would be fantastic, that she would blow the other players out of the sky. But if he did that, Rose would suspect – no, she would assume – that she surpassed the Slytherins in his favor. If she thought that, she would have to wonder why. And only Lord knew what would happen as a consequence. Severus couldn’t risk anything, but he still wanted to shower this girl with the praise that he thought she deserved.

“I cannot say that having you play will improve Gryffindor’s chances at winning. But I don’t believe that Potter would have chosen you to be part of his precious team if he did not see some potential in you. If you think you are ready and up for the challenge, then chances are you will be. I have to agree with Professors McGonagall and Wicker, dear. I think you will be just fine.”

Rose just stood there for a minute, fiddling her fingers at her waist. It meant a lot to hear that from her housemates and closest friends. It might even mean a lot for her mother to write back her praises and best wishes. But it meant so much more to hear those words on Snape’s lips, in that deep intonating voice. She felt intense flutters in her stomach, and a grin broke out across her face.

Snape glanced up at the wall where the clock hung above their heads. “Well, that is enough of that,” he said. “Thank you for the help, Miss Beckett. Not that I mind your company, but if you want some time for yourself before classes resume, I suggest that you leave now.”

“I could run those up to the hospital wing for you,” said Rose, pointing to the five filled Nourishment Draughts on Snape’s desk. The wizard thought about it for a moment; that would allow him some time alone to read in his office before the Seventh years arrived for their double lesson, and solitude did tend to help preserve his sanity. But compared to how he felt now, that was a rather dreary thought. Rose would be back, he told himself. She would be back right along with the others, and he would have her for a full two hours. So for better or for worse, he nodded his permission.

Rose gathered the bottles in her arms after grabbing her other possessions and then turned to leave. But just before exiting out into the dungeon halls, she stopped. “Just one more thing, sir?” she said, turning back to Snape.

“Yes, Miss Beckett?” asked the Potions professor with an amused sort of smirk.

Rose bit her lip momentarily, mustering up a great big helping of courage before she started again.  “Do you think you could you call me Rose for a change?” She noticed how Snape’s brow hitched up considerably. It was as though he had never heard of such an idea before. “You don’t have to while in class, but Miss Beckett seems a little too formal when it’s just you and me in here. Please sir, it would mean a lot to me.”

The silence that followed was so thick that you could cut it with a knife, with Snape staring at Rose from across the classroom. But just when Rose was starting to think that she had pushed her luck one time too many, Snape opened his mouth to speak. “If it would mean something to you, then I think I could do that for you…Rose.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Rose, keeping firm control over her would-be jittery voice. She then started on her way, thrilled to bits that Snape had finally called her by her first name.

**~HP~**

“I really hate her,” Draco bit out as he walked beside Severus in the halls. The Potions master’s intimidating presence was enough to part the crowds enough for both of them to pass without collision. “I hate that snarky, redheaded Beckett bitch.”

“Watch your mouth, Draco, or I will be forced to deduct points.” Severus had nearly flinched at Rose being called such a name, but managed to keep his composure in the young Malfoy’s presence. “And I have a feeling that you hate the Beckett girl only because your girlfriend has a grudge against her.”

“No, it’s definitely more than that.” Draco’s face was as hard as mountain stone as he spoke. “She’s been marching around all damn day, all proud of herself just because she got lucky. And Potter’s been treating her like she’s his bloody secret weapon! He won’t talk about their strategies to anyone.”

“That I do believe is Potter’s way of attempting to prevent _you_ from overhearing anything about their game plan.”

“Like that’s going to stop us from destroying them. Saint Potter will realize that soon enough, Barmy Beckett too. Come on Severus, you saw her, grinning and batting her eyes like she didn’t know this could happen. How obnoxious can that tramp get?”

“Draco, I must insist that you save your ranting for more private company,” said Severus, trying to divert the conversation. But Draco wasn’t having any of it. “No, I won’t! Beckett is too cocky for her own good. She’s just another overly-boosted, arrogant bitch, thinking she’s great when she’s not.”

_‘You say that and you haven’t even seen her play yet.’_ Severus could feel his anger burning in his stomach. Draco had some nerve to say such audacious things in that very public hall, caring not a bit that everyone around could hear. But that was expected of him, wasn’t it? In any case, Severus couldn’t just stand there and let his godson insult his beloved Rose. Draco had no right to say those things, no reason. He didn’t know Rose the way that Severus did. He didn’t know the real, wonderful girl underneath that proud persona. Severus’s heart was crying out to defend her, but doing that would only betray his true feelings for her. Draco knew Rose was a favored student of his, but Severus could never explain that one away.

“I think perhaps you are letting Parkinson cloud your own personal judgment. You sound nothing more than a broken record to me; I’ve heard it all before.”

“Pansy isn’t the only one around here who thinks that Beckett needs to be taught a lesson,” said Draco, rather maliciously. “Someone has to put that ruddy half-blood back in her place.”

Severus stopped to glare down at the younger Slytherin’s thin face, trapping a growl in his throat. “Threats, even empty ones will not go unnoticed, Draco. Do not make me have to be the one to reprimand you, and don’t think that I won’t.” He turned to start down the hall again, but had only gotten a few feet when he heard Draco’s voice again.

“What’s the point in that? I’ll say what I want about Beckett, and everyone else. It’s not like you care.”

That did it. Severus felt a spike of rage jam through his heart, and it quickened his pace. Leaving a slightly confused Draco behind him, Severus rushed through the halls, up flights of stairs, with no real destination. On the fourth floor, he ran into a puzzled Remus, who offered up a very genuine “Are you alright, Severus?” But Severus didn’t answer. He didn’t even bother slowing down. He just kept going, not caring about the concern he would rile up. He could feel the tension in his chest, the burn in his eyes. He had to get away from everyone before he lost control.

Higher and higher he went, just searching for privacy until he found himself before the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. At half past three in the afternoon, there probably couldn’t have been a more vacant place in the castle. It was one more long flight of steps and Severus found himself in the middle of that open space at the tower’s topmost level. Alone at last, Severus gasped for breath, doubling over himself until he could regain his strength. He nearly choked on the hard lump in his throat.

He paced about the floor for a moment or two, breathing away the anger and frustration that had so suddenly gripped him. Pacing eventually became standing by the side railing and staring out over the mountains and sky. Severus did what he could to empty his mind of those disparaging thoughts, especially the fleeting desire to wring Draco’s neck.  Only then did the throbbing in his temple recede, and Severus let the tension in his body ebb away.

Behind him, a distant call was caught on the wind. Curious, Severus turned around and walked across to the other side of the tower room. From there, the view of the Quidditch pitch was clear and direct. And on that bright, almost cloudless afternoon, it was easy to pick out the figures zipping back and forth through the air. They were mostly males with a lone female weaving in and around them. Severus didn’t need to be told that was Rose. She had left his classroom after the last bell of the day, right behind Potter, Thomas, and Weasley. All four of them appeared to be in quite the rush.

Severus watched them all from his high perch, but his eyes were almost constantly locked on Rose. He saw how she flew through the air at swift speed, stole the Quaffle right out from under Thomas’s nose, and made a majority of the goals she attempted to get past Weasley. Severus wished that he didn’t have keep up that high wall of pretense when she came to him earlier, that he could tell her just how wonderful she was going to be. Yes, he wanted her to have a better game than his own house’s team, his own godson! Slytherin could lose, and he wouldn’t care that much. And he had to keep that locked up.

Rose…she asked him to call her Rose.

Why did she have to do that to him? Once again, she had to make him feel like he stood a chance with her when he did not. She didn’t want a first name basis for any tender reasons, except maybe that she wanted closer ties to him as a teacher. But the way she looked at him in his classroom, the softness in her voice when she spoke to him…the way she made his heart flip when she touched him. Severus’s chest clenched hard, to the point where it was almost painful.

Why did love always have to hurt?

Yes, he loved her. No one alive could make Severus feel the way she did. In his tight little world, Rose mattered more than anyone else. She had helped to bring him out of his darkest days of late, and had soothed him through his difficult first trimester. Without her, he might not even be keeping his unborn baby. It was as though his life was coming together now that she was in it. Rose was the missing piece he had been searching for. She was everything that he wanted, and there was nothing about her he would think to change. For a moment, it was as though he was a boy again, watching Lily from a safe distance and dreaming of a future with her.

But Lily never wanted him…

Severus had been cursed many times in his life, felt all sorts of pain because of it. But this was his true curse. Only twice in his life had Severus fallen in love, and both times it was in vain. He lost Lily because of his own selfishness and stupidity, sacrificing anything he might have had with her for an empty promise of power from the Dark Lord. And now he had to fall in love with Rose, a girl he would never have anything with, if not by law then by her own will. She was like Lily in some respect. Why would she go for a guy like him when she could have a man like Potter?

There was nothing about him that Rose would find appealing. He wasn’t handsome, he wasn’t athletic, and he wasn’t one for kindness. He wasn’t that daring either; if he were, he wouldn’t be sending those gifts to Rose anonymously. Rose would prefer a man much like herself. She would want someone who shared her compassion. She would want a man who took life by the horns, not one who ran away from it tail-tucked. She would want someone who made her happy. Severus knew that he could do that, and had. But it was only temporary. In a few months, she would set out into the world and meet that special someone. Perhaps she had already found him and she just wasn’t talking about it. And if that was truly the case, just as he had with Lily all those years before, all Severus could do was step aside and let Rose live her life the way she wanted.  The mere thought nearly sickened Severus, making him grasp the railings harder.

He had a life ahead of him, a life with his future child. With a little boy or girl to raise, he would never be alone again. There would be some happiness for him, and Severus laid a hand on his stomach at the prospect. But his life would never be complete without someone there by his side. As said, he had only fallen in love twice, and Severus doubted that it would ever happen again.  He would never be happy if he didn’t have Rose, if he didn’t have his sweet Rosie with him, loving him as much as he loved her. But what good ever came from a hope?

In his solitude, Severus made no attempts to stop the hot tears from running down his face and falling to the floor below.


	36. Bring me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of caution: Don't listen to the soundtrack for Wicked while trying to write a Quidditch match. It tends to influence your plans. You have been warned.

As it was in many long past years, the first Quidditch match of the season between Gryffindor and Slytherin had caused a considerable amount of hype in the days leading up to it, especially among those who knew of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Emily Block, who was still confined to the hospital wing. Students wondered very loudly if having a reserve player was a good or bad thing, which greatly annoyed the Gryffindor team, their lightning-scarred captain in particular. Harry didn’t know why people had to question his judgment like that, but he put up with it to a degree. Like Ron said, kids will be kids.

Saturday morning came bright and brisk, and the entire Hogwarts population, all bundled up, made their way across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. Severus was of course among them, wrapped tightly in thick wool robes. A few had discouraged him from attending, citing his pregnancy as reason. But the Potions master had sternly maintained that he be there for his house; he had never missed a Slytherin match in all his years at Hogwarts. Bugger on them to insinuate that it was a risk to watch Quidditch while expecting! It wasn’t like he was going to be playing! And though he was the only person to know it, nothing was going to stop him from being there for Rose, offering silent praise to her. All in all, it came together to turn Severus into a stubborn, reasonably grouchy wizard. And so, wanting to avoid provoking the Potions master’s testy moods, it was settled. Severus sat high up in the faculty stands, surrounded by his more knowing colleagues.

“A lovely day for a match,” said Remus, making light conversation. He was seated to Severus’s left, twiddling his gloved fingers to deflect from the fact that he was ready to grab his wand at any time. He was sure that Albus would have charms around their seats to protect them from any Bludgers or broomsticks that might come flying at them, but you couldn’t be too careful. Severus noticed this and rolled his eyes slightly. Sometimes Remus took his oath to protect him and the baby a little too seriously.

“Of course you would say that,” he said. “I’m sure Potter wishes it were raining. At least then, he could blame a terrible team on the weather.”

“Oh stop that, Severus,” said Cassandra. The Muggle Studies professor was sitting directly behind her DADA colleague, sipping tea from an insulated thermos. “Remus and I watched them while they were practicing a few times. They know what they’re doing. And even if they’re not, they sure make it look like they do.”

“We will see soon enough.” Severus looked out over the pitch and sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter. Actually, he was rather nervous to be there. He was nervous for Rose, and he was nervous for himself to be watching Rose so closely surrounded by others. He had to put on a pretty good performance that morning in order to hide just how far away his mind was, in Gryffindor tower to be more exact. Unconsciously, he rested his hand on the raised bump at his middle.

“Are you feeling alright, Severus?” he heard Remus ask, ever the concerned comrade. “You look a little peaky.”

“I’m fine, Remus,” Severus answered. What was he talking about? He wasn’t alright, not as long as he had that sickening adoration for that one redheaded girl. He couldn’t think of being content while forcing himself to suppress his love in public. “It’s just that my pre – that my body has become more sensitive to temperatures as of late.” Severus had briefly forgotten that he couldn’t talk about his pregnancy in public either. In addition to Cassandra, Aurora and Septima were a few rows behind, and he did not want to give those witches something to gossip about – not that they needed any help with that.

Remus nodded his understanding. “As long as you’re okay,” he replied. It was short and it was to the point; he felt that Severus had had enough of people telling him how concerned they were. But his statement wasn’t empty in the slightest. “You put up quite the fight to be here, I would hate to see you being forced to leave halfway through.”

“No need to worry about that. I am staying here until that last whistle blows.” Severus looked further away, hoping to the high heavens that the werewolf couldn’t smell his unnerve.

**~HP~**

Rose blew out a long breath to calm the jitters in her stomach as she strapped on her tough leather armguards. Her scarlet red robes hung about her slender body, and her hair had been tied back in a French braid by Parvati. The broom she would be riding was propped against wall. She paced the floor of the Gryffindor locker room, worrying that she was starting to wear a track in the old wood floor. It had been a long time since Rose had been this nervous about anything, probably not since she sat for her O.W.L.s. It had been fine the night before and she was calm at breakfast, but it was getting hard to maintain that now that she could hear the crowds gathering in the stands outside.

Just before the game was to begin, Harry called his teammates together for his customary, often unneeded captain’s pep talk. “Alright guys,” he began. “This is going to be a tough one. I haven’t heard anything about Slytherin’s game plan, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t up to something. They could already have a mission to take us out, or they could make it up as they go along. I want you guys to stay as focused as you can on your positions, but at the same time, you have got to keep your eyes open and moving. Watch out for Goyle and O’Rourke, they’ll be aiming for our heads no doubt. Dean, girls, I know you’ll be roughed up, so do what you can to stay on course, even if you have to fight back.”  

“Within reason of course,” Demelza spoke up. “We can’t sink down to their level.”

“It obviously works for them, Demy,” said Seamus, swinging his beater’s bat to warm up his shoulder. “How else do you think they held onto the cup for seven straight years?”

“And look at what that’s done for their reputation,” Harry added, regaining control of the lecture. “Anyway, we have to stay on our toes and stay within our limits. Above all, don’t let them distract you from our game. Demelza, Dean, remember to work with Rose like you would with Emily. And Seamus, Ritchie, be careful about where you’re aiming when you’re swinging at the Bludgers. We don’t want another close call. Slytherin is going down!” Harry stuck out his leather-clad hand, and Ron placed his on top. The others followed one by one, and then they broke apart with a hearty, “Go, go Gryffindor!”

Ron strapped on his helmet, grabbed his broom, and made his way over to the closed gate. Dean and Demelza followed him, and Seamus and Ritchie were not far behind them. Harry was about to grab his Firebolt and head out to lead his team when he noticed Rose standing rather still, kneading the handle of her broomstick in her hands. He approached her and touched her arm. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Rose. “Just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be,” said Harry, lightly shaking his head. “I said it before, and I will say it again. You’ll be great – no – you’ll be fantastic.”

“We’ll see,” Rose walked over to the small window at the side of the room and looked out. Even from there, she could see the tops of the stands and the cheering crowds occupying them. She swallowed. “I don’t get that many chances to impress my peers, and I don’t want to blow them when I do.”

“Oh Rose, you won’t,” Harry encouraged. He was a humble guy for the most part, but he could guess that it would be easy for someone else to feel a little lackluster when they stood behind him, Ron, and Hermione, and Rose had been more a shadow for them than anyone else. “I wouldn’t have put you on the team if I didn’t think that you could play. Those people who’ve been talking about you would be foolish to say anything different. Think of it this way. You want to prove them wrong, so then play as such.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Harry, it’s not as though my whole reputation depends on this match.”

“Ah, you’re worth more than a few frustrating rows in class, Rose. Actually, I have to tell you that I’m prepared to write a snobby letter to Azkaban just to brag about you.” Rose turned to Harry, wide-eyed in an emotion caught between shock and amusement. “Oh Harry, you wouldn’t!”

“Oh yes, I would. We wouldn’t want your dad to go about his day without another reason to regret his bad parenting, would we?” Again, Harry rested his hand on Rose’s shoulder, gently squeezing it. “Forget about everyone else. How do you feel when it’s just you that you’re thinking about?”

Rose thought for a moment, letting her eyes trail away. It was impossible to ignore those like Parkinson, Malfoy, and certainly her father. She could hear the would-be criticisms that they would no doubt hand her if given the chance. But then there were people like Harry and Hermione, Ron and the other Gryffindor girls. They all stood by her and defended her, her pride, and her worth. She had the support of McGonagall and Wicker, the latter especially making no secret of it. But above all, Snape believed in her. He commended her and her skills, regardless of his position as Slytherin’s Head of House. Maybe, just maybe, he thought she was better than his own players. And he would be watching her the whole time. The thought could have melted Rose’s heart. So after a long moment’s deliberation, she spoke.

“I feel like I’m ready to play Quidditch. I know that I can play. I’m part of an amazing team, and they’re not going to bring us down. We’ll win!”

“That’s a girl!” Harry smiled. “I’ll add to that. You’ll help us win. We will play like we’re the greatest team that Britain has ever seen.” Rose smiled in return and the two of them exited the locker room together, brooms in hand. She also couldn’t hold back the snigger in her throat; as if they could play better than the British World Cup players!

At the gate, Harry stepped up to the front of their group to stand beside Ron and mounted his broom. His faithful followers did the same, and Harry took one last look over his shoulder at Rose. She now had a firm look of determination across her face. _‘That’s it Rose,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Because there’s no turning back now.’_ The gate slowly creaked open, letting in the bright sunshine, and the Gryffindor team kicked off the ground into the open air.

The Quidditch pitch was packed, and the noise of their cheers was almost deafening when combined with the bitter wind that blew against them. Flashes of green and red filled the skies as the players from both teams zipped around the area, getting used to the feel of their brooms and the quality of the air. Rose stuck close to the stands, looking down on the spectators below. She flew past a screaming Lavender and Parvati, and then she saw Neville, holding Luna close to his body. Several feet more and she felt the cold stare of Pansy Parkinson, now aided by her pack of Slytherin girls whose names she always seemed to forget. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction, Rose made a sharp turn and cut across the field, as well as Malfoy’s airspace. Seeing the obvious look of distain on his face, she sneered at him as she flew by.

“Hello students and faculty of Hogwarts! Welcome to this season’s first Quidditch game!” Justin Finch-Fletchly’s amplified voice echoed over everyone’s heads. By popular opinion, it had been decided sometime before that a newer, more alert commentator was needed, and Lavender’s boyfriend was the top pick. Luna had not been bitter in losing the position. In fact, she was happy to hand it over. She preferred to just watch the games anyway. “This is the start of what is sure to be a fantastic race for the Quidditch cup. Today we have the reigning champions of Gryffindor against Slytherin.”

Rose flew close to the faculty stands, and immediately started scanning over the faces for Snape. Sure enough, there he was between Lupin and Sprout, staring up at her from his seat. That in itself was an extra boost of confidence that only the Potions professor could provide. Rose just resisted the urge to smile at him when she heard Madam Hooch’s whistle, calling them into position. She flew over to the center of the field and steadied her broom to the left side, beside Dean. All of the players looked down at Hooch, who was holding the Quaffle. As always, there was a stern warning of good sportsmanship as those hawk-eyes glided over every one of them. And then, the red ball was tossed up into the air.

“And they’re off! Gryffindor takes position of the Quaffle – Dean Thomas passes to Demelza Robins – Robins to reserve chaser Rose Beckett. Beckett is moving down the field, she passes back to Thomas – the Quaffle is stolen on the fly by Slytherin’s Mark Ruggins! He passes to Eddie O’Connell – Oi! O’Connell is hit by a Bludger from Seamus Finnigan! Thomas catches the Quaffle – passes to Robins – and Robins scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!”

The students of Gryffindor and their allies cheered. Demelza high-fived both Rose and Dean as she flew past. But in a second, they were back in the game. Slytherin had the Quaffle, by means of their third chaser Erik Byrne. Demelza swooped in to try and get it back, but Ruggins forced her out of the way. Dean went in, but he just missed being hit by a stray Bludger. Byrne would have scored if Ron hadn’t been so quick to block his shot. The Quaffle was back in Gryffindor’s possession, and Dean had the Slytherin goal posts in his sights. But alas, that was the only thing in his sights.

“O’Connell knocks the Quaffle right out from behind Thomas’s arm!” Justin shouted into the air, obviously as surprised as the rest of the crowd. “I didn’t see that one coming, and obviously he didn’t either.”

Flying close together, O’Connell and Byrne started rapidly passing the ball back and forth between them, giving Gryffindor little chance to take it back. Goyle and that wall of muscle called O’Rourke also stayed on top of them, more ready to use their bodies than their bats. Rose had to duck to avoid a blow to the head from O’Rourke. She followed behind the two rival chasers, her eyes locked on the Quaffle. She timed her opponents’ throws, and realized that she literally had half a second and the width of her shoulders to do it. There was a window, but it was only open so far. Rose steadily picked up speed, feeling the sting of the wind on her face and the thumping of her heart in her chest. Byrne went to throw it back to O’Connell, who would then take on Ron in the scoring zone. Suddenly, there was the massive noise of wood on air as Rose’s broom burst forward like a bullet right out of the barrel.

“Beckett’s got the Quaffle! What a steal! Absolutely amazing, ladies and gentlemen!” Justin’s voice could barely be heard over the roar of noise from the student crowds.

Rose gripped the Quaffle tightly to her side, quickly weaving in and around other players. She would have gone for the goal if Ruggins hadn’t tried to fly directly into her, forcing her into a sharp upward pull. Flustered and still ahold of the Quaffle, she looked around for any of her teammates. Demelza swiftly swooped in several feet below, and Rose immediately recognized her fellow chaser’s strategy.

“Beckett tosses the Quaffle straight down to Robins!” she heard Justin say. “That’s an age-old technique there, folks. A staple for Gryffindor for decades.”

Demelza sped off for the Slytherin scoring zone, leading Ruggins and Byrne in a close chase. Rose surveyed the scene from above. Dean was being blocked by O’Connell, so he couldn’t come to Demelza’s aid. Two hunters then became one when Seamus hit a Bludger at just the right angle to knock Ruggins off course. But Byrne was not giving up in the slightest. She glanced over at a hovering Harry, who was looking rather desperate at the fact that he couldn’t do much except keep his eye out for that bloody Snitch, which had yet to be sighted by either team. But Rose noticed something else. Slytherin seemed to be awfully focused on Demelza, every one of them including the beaters and keeper. No one really thought to look up.

Rose plunged down in a deep nose dive, pulling herself up just short of the goal posts, and then cried out Demelza’s name. Demelza looked up to see her outstretched hand, and instantly tossed out the Quaffle over Byrne’s head. It wasn’t in Rose’s grip for a second before she turned to Slytherin’s big burly keeper and hurled it out with a grunt.

“Gryffindor scores!”

In the stands, Gryffindor house was all shouts and excitement. Hermione had finally sunk to Lavender’s level, because she was screaming right along with her and Parvati for their mutual friend. Rose quickly flew over their heads with a fist in the air and a grin across her face. It was amazing to hear the crowds cheering for her. For her, not Harry! She felt the mass encouragement seep into her bones, pushing onward over the field.

In his seat in the faculty stands, Severus’s toes twitched in his boots as he watched Rose. Most of his body had been tense while watching that game play, that fantastic steal. That was replaced with a sense of elation immediately after she made the goal. His heart was quite merrily thumping away in his chest. Severus worked hard to stop himself from grinning, but one corner of his mouth still tweaked up in a small, subtle smirk. He imagined how Rose felt to finally have the praise she had wanted, even if it was more for her house than her individually. And even if she didn’t pay much mind to it in that mild-mannered way of hers, that certainly wouldn’t stop him from feeling delighted for her.

The game once again recommenced, and Slytherin finally managed to get a goal for themselves before Gryffindor took possession of the Quaffle again. This time, Dean was quite determined to hold onto it as long as possible, and Rose and Demelza were just as determined to make that happen. The two girls got on either side of him, flying in a distinct triangular angle. Bryne, Goyle, and O’Rourke were all forced to the side. Dean picked up speed, racing for what was surely their third goal. But then there was a tremendous crash as Ruggins rammed into his side, nearly knocking Dean off his broom and making him drop the Quaffle.

“Oi! I don’t care what house you’re in, that’s got to hurt! That’s a penalty to Gryffindor – Beckett gets the shot – and she puts it in!”

“Oh, would you look at Rose go!” Cassandra said excitedly as though she were watching her own daughter up there.

“Good on Harry for picking such a capable reserve player,” said Remus, gently elbowing Severus’s arm. “I knew she could play, but I didn’t know she was so quick.”

“There are a lot of things that people don’t know about Beckett,” said Severus, clenching his gloved hands in his robes. “Somehow, this doesn’t surprise me.” No, not in the slightest, he silently added to himself. It appeared that Rose was actually starting to emerge as the chaser to watch for Gryffindor, which of course he had no objections to. But Severus felt his stomach drop when he realized what happened to star chasers in Slytherin games. Even from there, he could see the angry glares aimed at her from Ruggins and Malfoy above.

There was a hustle and bustle in the air around them that briefly distracted him from Rose, and he looked up to see both Potter and Malfoy rapidly descending. The Snitch had finally been spotted, and now a new race was on.

Gryffindor played another old tactic, one where all three of them travelled a certain length down the pitch before handing it off to another chaser. Demelza handed off to Dean, who handed off to Rose, who nearly scored another goal if she hadn’t been blocked. O’Connell immediately took hold of it and sped off down the field. Rose however shot off after him, as fast as the chilly wind blowing them around. The rival chaser was twice her size, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She had to quickly jerk away to avoid O’Connell’s elbow, probably robbing her team of another penalty shot, but she still found a quick chance to punch the Quaffle right out of the crook of his arm, and then plunge down to catch it.

“Bring her down!” Malfoy shouted out to his teammates. “Bring her down!”

Rose saw the Bludger coming, and in a move as quick as it was foolish, she swung herself off the seat of her broom and locked her legs to dangle off it. Upside down, she saw Dean pass under her, and she tossed the Quaffle down to him. Another goal, and Gryffindor was leading forty to ten. Satisfied, Rose hauled herself back up.

The score became forty to twenty when Byrne got past Demelza and Ritchie to score for Slytherin. Everybody was feeling the intense competition, egged on by the crowds around them. The game was also starting to get more complicated now that players had to dodge the seekers that now soared erratically among them. Rose made damn sure that she let nothing distract her from the Quaffle. There was no way in hell that she was going to let her team down now.

“Gryffindor has possession – Robins is racing down the field – ducks to avoid a Bludger – ducks again to avoid O’Rourke – she passes to Beckett, who is off like a shot – she’s nearly to the posts and – oh!”

Ruggins had gotten up alongside Rose, grabbed her broom handle and pushed her with great strength. This sent Rose into a terrible spin, and the Quaffle went flying. Ruggins then grabbed it and went on to a failed attempt at a goal. Rose gripped her broom, finally managing to get ahold of herself long enough to stop the spinning. She came out of that ordeal feeling rather ill with a slight case of double vision.

“You okay, Rose?!” Harry shouted, but all Rose could do was nod with pressed closed lips. She did not want to be sick in front of the entire school.

“Penalty! That’s a penalty!” Remus stood and shouted to Madam Hooch, who blew the whistle in response before he could finish. The werewolf sat himself back down and leaned down to Minerva, seated in the row in front of them. “Despicable, I tell you!”

“When you’ve been doing this as long as I have Remus, you learn to get used to it,” the deputy headmistress replied in a tone that was quite suggestive to those there to overhear, more likely directed at Severus. Severus for his part remained silent. Rose had come to a stop right by their seats, and he could see the look on her face. He knew that look so well after those long weeks of living with morning sickness; the poor thing was obviously trying to keep herself from losing her last meal.

_‘She’s okay,’_ he told himself, his eyes suddenly noticing Malfoy paying particular, very malicious attention to her. _‘She’ll be back at it in a few minutes. She’s okay.’_

The Quaffle was retrieved and was offered to Rose for the penalty shot. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go for it after her little whirl. But she looked down to see how close she had drifted to the faculty stands. She picked out Snape instantly, letting the flutters he brought calm her stomach. He gazed up at her with a look that just told her to keep going. She could almost hear his voice inside her head. _“It’s not like you to give up so easily, Beckett.”_ She swallowed hard, and then flew forward to take the Quaffle.

She stared down the Slytherin keeper, trying her absolute best to psych him out. Evidently, it wasn’t working because he was hardly moving, watching her as closely as she watched him. It was a game of cat and mouse, fifty feet in the air. At last, Rose made her move and got the Quaffle in with only millimeters to spare.

“Another goal for Gryffindor! They now lead Slytherin fifty to twenty!”

Rose cried out with excitement as she flew out to salute her teammates. Her pride and giddiness worked to quell her nausea, and she listened to the students shouting their agreement. But she wasn’t totally aware of her surroundings. Over the crowds, she didn’t hear Malfoy growling out, “You idiots! Knock her down!”

Demelza had the Quaffle, and Rose pivoted her broom to follow. But suddenly, there was a horrible crack on the air, and Rose cried out in pain. A Bludger had hit her directly on the broad side of her shoulder with incredible force, disabling most of her left side and sending her tumbling back off her broom. There was an audible mass gasp of horror as the school population watched her plummet through the air.

Rose held her breath, preparing for the impact of the landing and the pain it would bring with it…if she would be conscious long enough to feel it.

All of a sudden, she felt her ankle jerk up above the rest of her body, causing another sharp pain. She cried out again, but then she opened her eyes to see that the world was no longer rushing past her. As a matter of fact, it was perfectly still, just upside down. She was hovering in midair, suspended by her likely broken ankle. A swift act of magic had saved her from falling to the earth. Rose let go of a hard, terribly grateful breath; she had seen half of her life flash before her eyes there.

Severus stood in his seat, his wand pointed directly at Rose, his breath noticeably increased. Every part of his body was tense with that abrupt burst of adrenaline. It had been a long time since he moved that fast, whipped out his wand so quickly. He wasn’t the only one moving to stop Rose’s fall, but he would be damned if he wasn’t the one to actually save her. He knew that such a sudden _Levicorpus_ would do some physical damage, but it was far better than watching his beloved Rose land head first on the hard ground.

“You’ve got her, Severus?!” Dumbledore shouted up from his seat. It was more of an encouragement than a question, but he did need somewhat of a confirmation. Severus nodded his head tersely, his eyes still firmly locked on the floating Gryffindor. “I have her, Albus. She’s not going anywhere.”

“Well done, Severus!” Minerva said exasperatedly, a hand on her chest. “I was so afraid that no one would act fast enough to stop her.”

“Better me than one of the students,” said Severus. Please, better him than the headmaster himself! He breathed away the anxiety, his pulse finally starting to slow down.

Harry called for a timeout, prompting Hooch to blow the whistle. Players screeched to a halt as Madam Pomfrey rushed out onto the field, surprisingly followed by Neville. Once she was standing below Rose, her arms and braid dangling, the Mediwitch raised her hand above her head and motioned for her to come down. Severus recognized the signal and very carefully started to lower Rose down. Once she was close enough, Rose managed to get her uninjured arm around Neville’s neck, and only after he saw this did Severus release her from his spell. Rose’s body fell back into its natural upright position, causing Rose to hunch over in pain, relying on Neville for support.

Madam Pomfrey surveyed the injuries she had sustained from the Bludger, as well as her ankle. A quick diagnostic charm revealed that it was indeed broken, and there were also some broken bones in her shoulder. It was easy for the Mediwitch to say that Rose was in no condition to continue on with the match. Gryffindor would have to manage with their two remaining chasers. Rose had enough time to look up at Harry’s despaired, frustrated frown before she limped off of the field, still supported by Neville.

Severus watched her go, not turning back to the game until she was completely out of sight. Then he slowly lowered himself back down. That rush of energy had left his balance a little off kilter. He took in deep, controlled breaths, supported by Remus’s hand on his shoulder. But his thoughts still lingered on Rose, and would so for a great deal of time after. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t care who won now. If Slytherin lost even with a three on two match, that was their karma for deliberately harming the girl he loved so dearly.


	37. A place to belong

Rose completely resented being told that she had to stay in the hospital wing for a few hours. Madam Pomfrey could heal broken bones faster than Harry could clean his glasses, for Prospero’s sake! But the nurse had remained adamant that Rose wait this one out, give her body time to heal up completely. She also had to wait for the aching and limping to stop since she had decided to forgo a Pain Potion for an Energy Draught; it was generally a good idea to avoid mixing the two together when it wasn’t necessary. So Rose surrendered to her short prison sentence, resigning to listening to the cheers of the crowds outside, waiting for the game to be over. Occasionally, she would speak through the screen that surrounded the bed of the still very ill Emily Block, telling her version of what had happened during the game.

After two hours, people finally started to wander into the wing to see both her and Emily. Harry strode in with the entire Gryffindor team behind him, while the remainder of their year-mates corralled around Hermione.  All of them were in very visible, quite loud states of excitement. Seeing this, Rose shifted on her hospital bed to sit with one leg pulled in towards her, while her healing one stuck outward.

“We won the match!” Dean exclaimed, pumping his fist through the air.

“Yeah, we got the snitch!” Demelza added, uncharacteristically giddy. “The final score was two hundred and ten to sixty.”

“Bet Malfoy didn’t see that one coming!” Seamus laughed heartily. “Losing even with one extra man in the air. He had it coming, I tell you! That’ll teach those numbskulls to play nasty. We couldn’t have done it without you, Beckett.” He not-so-gently tapped Rose on her shoulder, making her wince.

“Ouch…” she squeaked out, nearly crossing her eyes from the quick throbbing pain that briefly took hold. Seamus quickly apologized for his misstep, his cheeks showing his embarrassment. He tried to recover from that by saying, “Anyway, we’re having a big victory party later tonight in the common room. You’ll be there, right? I mean, you did get us three goals.”

“Of course, I’ll be there,” said Rose. “Madam Pomfrey wants to keep me for a while, but she says I’ll be able to leave by supper. A few broken bones can’t stop me.”

“You’re not in a lot of pain, are you?” asked Hermione, standing to the right side of Rose’s bed.

“It’s better than it was before, still pretty sore though. I just hope that I wasn’t hit by friendly fire.” Rose glared sarcastically out of the corner of her eye at Seamus. The Irishman was quick to shake her off. “Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t me that hit you.”

“Alright, enough of that you two,” said Harry, stepping forward. “Could everybody clear out for a while? I’d like to speak to Rose alone.” Hermione and Lavender both briefly paused to give Rose a gentle hug, but then they left the hospital wing, taking many of the Seventh years with them. Like Seamus said, they had a party to get ready for.

Harry walked around the side of the bed and sat down on the edge, careful to avoid Rose’s ankle. Rose leaned forward, her frayed ginger braid falling to hang over her shoulder. “Well Captain, what do you have to say to all of this?”

“The same thing everyone else has been saying,” said Harry. “Rose, you were fantastic. We really couldn’t have gotten those goals if you hadn’t been so quick.”

“I have to ask you, what happened out there? I didn’t see who hit the Bludger that knocked me off my broom.”

“Actually as it turns out, Goyle and O’Rourke got behind that Bludger together, and they hit it at the same time. Believe me, Rose. When I saw it hit you, I felt your pain.”

“What happened afterwards, after Neville helped me off the field?” Rose asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Time-in was called right after you left,” Harry explained. “With one extra player on us, Slytherin managed to score twice with hardly any trouble. Needless to say, we fought back pretty hard. Dean ended up hitting the ground with O’Connell while they were wrangling for the Quaffle. We both got penalty shots for that one, and we both scored. For a while, I thought they were going to kill us. But we were ten points ahead when I caught the Snitch.”

Rose let out a joyful laugh before squeezing Harry’s arm. “I knew we would kick Slytherin’s arse!” she said. Harry patted her hand. “With a lot of help from you, of course.”

“Don’t make a big fuss about it. I assisted more than anything.” Rose shook her head, her cheeks flushing.

“I’m sorry Rose, but when you score three goals, there is a certain amount of fuss that comes along with it.” Harry got to his feet again, adjusting the fit of his robes. “I can’t thank you enough for giving it everything you had out there.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” said Rose. “I was just doing my job.”

“Then thank you for reassuring me that I picked the right people for our team. A few more games like that, and the Quidditch cup will be ours!” Madam Pomfrey approached Rose’s bed, and the Head Boy turned to leave. “I’ll see you at the party.” And with that, Harry left the hospital wing.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Pomfrey asked, setting a glass of water on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Pretty fair,” said Rose. “My ankle feels better, but my shoulder is still kind of sore.”

“Ah yes, I would expect that for a few more hours yet. I would advise you not to let anyone else touch you there.”

“So do you think I’ll be able to leave soon?”

“Not so quick, Beckett. You’ve still got some healing up to do.” The Mediwitch stepped up to the foot of the bed, her dress sweeping the floor as she went. “Actually, I came to tell you that someone outside wishes to speak to you. Do you feel up to having another visitor?”

“Sure, send them in.”

Madam Pomfrey excused herself and left the room. Rose watched the door through which she left, half expecting a congratulatory visit from McGonagall, or Wicker bearing get-well-crumpets. But Rose was quite surprised when she caught sight of black hair and even blacker wool robes. For a moment, Rose thought Snape was there to see someone else. Eddie O’Connell and Erik Byrne were both undergoing concussion tests in another closed off area of the wing. But her insides were all flutters and butterflies when the Potions master slowly stepped toward the foot of her bed.

“Professor Snape,” she said, the professor’s name all she could get out. “Wha…what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I’ve come to check on the invalid.”

“Don’t you worry about being seen talking to me as opposed to one of your own knuckleheads in the other room? Wasn’t Madam Pomfrey curious?”

“Of course she was. I however have found that many people have stopped questioning my favor for you. Frankly, many of my colleagues seem to agree with me.” Snape stepped closer, making Rose pull her leg in closer to her body. She could clearly see healthy hue in the Potions professor’s face, the cold weather probably having a thing or two to do with it. “Well, I must say that was a game well played.”

“I’m surprised you would say that considering Slytherin lost,” Rose smirked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Only because Potter managed to pay attention long enough to catch the Snitch.” Snape ignored the deliberate, over-exaggerated offense in Rose’s face. “In any case, since you gave me such grief yesterday, I thought that I come and tell you what a fine job you did.”

“Really?” asked Rose, a bit sheepishly.

“Of course. I assumed that you could play a decent game of Quidditch, but needless to say, you far exceeded my expectations. I haven’t seen a player that fast and agile in years.” Alright, so Severus might have been exaggerating just a little. But really, what better opportunity to convey his real adoration for her?

“Well…I…” Rose tried to say. It was easy to brush off compliments from close friends and allies. But it was something else entirely to hear it from the man she loved. When he said that, she felt like she could single-handedly outscore every last member of the Hollyhead Harpies, or every player in Britain for that matter. She played with the ends of her braid, slowly glancing up to meet Snape’s eye. “Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“You’re welcome, Rose,” said Snape, making Rose blush with the use of her first name. “Potter does have himself one reliable reserve, that’s for sure. When my house players target someone, I believe it to be more of a testament to their abilities than anything else.”

Rose smirked – no – smiled at her professor. “And here I was thinking that Parkinson told Malfoy to knock me out of the sky and kill me.”

“Nonsense, no one was going to let you die out there.”

“Thank Merlin for whoever it was that cast that spell,” said Rose, shaking her head. “The rate that I was falling, I didn’t think anyone would have enough time to catch me.”

“Well, when you have as much experience with that spell as I do, you find that it becomes second nature.” Rose almost brushed off Snape’s comment, but then her train of thought slammed into a solid wall. Her eyes widened slightly, not wanting to give away the full extent of her shock.

“That…that was you?” she asked. “It was you that saved me?”

“Yes Rose, it was me,” Snape admitted. Rose let her mouth drop open. Words could barely describe what she was thinking at the moment. For Snape to admit that he favored her was a big deal to her. That meant that he cared for her to a certain degree. But what did it mean for him to act when she was in danger, to stop her from being harmed? Could he really be that fond of her?

She searched her brain for the right words. “Oh – oh my god Professor, I don’t know what to say! How could I ever show my gratitude to you for doing that?”

“You don’t have to do anything, it was the least I could do,” said Snape. “I wasn’t going to allow one of my favorites to suffer a head injury or worse.”

Rose brought up a hand to cover her mouth. The stunned, yet still bashful smile across her face was beginning to get embarrassing, especially when it came back to her that they were in the wide open hospital wing, not the private settings of Snape’s classroom or office. She regained proper control of herself, looking up at Snape calmly. “Thanks anyway, Professor. You’re probably right. I would have been in a lot worse shape if it hadn’t been for you.”

“No trouble, Rose,” Snape replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Think of it this way. Now you have one hell of a story to tell your old friends the next time you write to them. They would be proud, by the way, all of them. The way you were playing would have had every one of them thinking they were a Gryffindor for a few hours.”

That statement actually made Rose stop and think for a moment. She hadn’t really thought about how her long-gone friends would have reacted to the actual game instead of just the mere fact that she was playing. But further reflection told her that Snape was most definitely right. Those three were supportive of anything that she did, so this wouldn’t have been different. All of them would have been decked out in red and gold that day.

He might have even turned his back on his own house for her…

**~HP~**

Gryffindors always had a certain reputation for merry-making. Their parties always seemed to be the most raucous, the most energy-fueled, the most fun really. It was easy to assume that this tradition (or bad habit, depending on who you spoke to) could have only started in Gryffindor tower. And this night and this batch of students would certainly not be any exception. The common room was filled with a white noise of loud music and incessant chatter. A space had been cleared out in the center of the room to form an impromptu dance floor, and bottles of Butterbeer had been brought up by the crateful. Under the nose of their Head of House and quite a few prefects, a few bottles of Fire Whiskey had also been snuck in by a certain Irishman and his certain black best mate. In the festive sort of spirit, Harry and Hermione agreed to let it slide as long as no one got hurt.

Rose made good on her promise that she would get out of the hospital wing by the early evening. She had missed a small portion of dinner, and she still felt the odd twinge here and there, but she was still there and she was ready to party. She now sat in a corner of the common room with Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, still wearing her Quidditch sweater. Her hair had finally been released from its French braid, and around her neck was the silk scarf from _All-my-affection_ , charmed to flash vibrant shades of her house colors. She was offered a shot of whiskey for each of the three goals she scored, but Rose was never one to drink in excess. She tipped back two of them.

If she wasn’t the center of attention before, she certainly was now. Countless kids came up to her claiming that she was the reason they won, all of whom were turned away with a shake of her head and a polite, reluctant smile. She also shot a warning glare at Seamus, Dean, and Ron, who appeared to be the ringleaders in this. It was luck and opportunity, she repeated for the umpteenth time. They could have won that game without her, and they could take that back to poor sick Emily. All Rose could really say to them was that she took what could be her only Quidditch match, and she made the most of it. Their victory was just an added bonus.

Of course, as Harry reminded her, there still no excuse to not have fun.

So have fun, Rose did. She talked, she danced (as much as she physically could), she drank, and she enjoyed the frivolity. Even when she ducked away into a private corner of the stairs, she still relished in everyone’s company. For the first time in eight years, Rose felt like she was truly part of her house. They all had a common link, a common joy. For once, she actually believed her own ideals and felt like they were one in the same. She had everything in common with dozens of people.

She felt the same way that she did when it was just the four of them.

**_~Flashback~_ **

_Rose wrapped the gold and red of her scarf tighter around her neck, nimbly traipsing down the dried out paths inside the castle walls. The mid-November air was just as dry, scratching her throat with every calm breath. The approaching winter seemed to suck the noise from the waterside valley. The gentle lapping of rippling waves on sand was all that could be heard on the grounds. The only thing that saved the day was the bright sun beating down on her red hair._

_She was out and about, and she was unafraid. Sirius Black got into Hogwarts once; he couldn’t possibly do it again._

_Her gaze kept shifting to the girl walking beside her. Her black hair was pulled tightly over her head, released in a ponytail in back. Thick ebony brows veiled dark brown orbs for eyes. Those eyes poured over a long roll of parchment, a detailed essay on palm-reading. Natasha Moschovitz struggled to keep her Ravenclaw scarf over her left shoulder._

_“Don’t take this the wrong way, Tasha,” said Rose. “But Divination still seems like a load of dragon dung to me.”_

_“You just say that ‘cause you haven’t been to a lesson,” Natasha said, her light London accent faintly punctured by the gruff lilt of Russia. “It’s beyond me why you decided on Magical Creatures.”_

_“Jonny said it would be a good idea.”_

_“Yes, and then you watch Malfoy get mauled the first day. If you ask me, stick to Muggles. There, now we’re even.” Natasha rolled up her essay and tucked it into a robe pocket._

_“Aye,” Rose rolled her eyes. “You could wait longer than one term before trying to talk me out of a class. I don’t want to leave Jonny alone, not with the Hufflepuffs dropping like flies.”_

_The girls found their way into a courtyard on the west side of the castle. They saw that others had braved the harsh air that day, sparsely spread out across the square. The only thing that sprouted up from the wall to wall grass was the old dogwood in the far corner. The bench underneath the tree was usually the first place to look if you wanted to find this particular crop of kids, no matter who you were, for whatever reason. Three years and this never changed, not even with the cold of winter._

_They discovered that their bench was already occupied, but thankfully, it was by fellow Third year Jonny Cederman. His dirty blonde hair was ragged, like he had lost a fight with a pair of terribly hexed scissors. Hazel eyes almost blended with the dying grass. His heavy bag rested against the tree trunk. “Hey, it’s about time you two got here,” he said._

_“I thought that you would be out playing with the giant squid,” said Natasha._

_“Nah, I haven’t got any food to toss out. I think he can tell if I do or don’t.” Jonny shifted over to let the raven-haired lass sit beside him. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to be out there alone, not with Dementors creeping around in the woods.”_

_“I would have gone looking for you if you didn’t turn up by dinner,” Rose smiled. Jonny looked up at her, his rounded face sarcastically amused. “Aww, isn’t that cute? The brave Gryffindor comes to save the poor Hufflepuff.”_

_Rose pointed a thin finger at the bridge of his nose. “Before you start that, get off me. If I did, it would have been the wise Ravenclaw’s idea.”_

_The conversation was broken by laughter as Rose sat down, squeezing Natasha in between her and Jonny. Around them, eyes were tossing and rolling. “You know, that joke is starting to get old,” the Ravenclaw commented. “We’re too obnoxious for our own good.”_

_“They’ll remember us, won’t they?” Rose inquired. Natasha shook her head with a trite “Tee-hee.”_

_The three bosom buddies relished in the afternoon peace. That is until a pack of young, but ravenous Slytherin girls wandered across the cloister. “Hey Ginger!” Pansy Parkinson called out, already getting a jeer out of her pals. “Don’t you know that color’s the mark of a dirty broad? Why don’t you go and burn the rest of it off?!” It was a brief attack, but it seemed that it was enough for Pansy. Ushered by the always sizeable Millicent Bulstrode, she led her gang into Hogwarts’ hallowed halls._

_“Merlin, will she leave you alone already?” Jonny griped. “That happened first year, for crying out loud.”_

_Rose played with the ends of her hair, which hung just below her shoulder level. It was moments like this that made her wish that hair took less time to grow back. “I suppose Snape isn’t going to let them forget about it. Oh ha, ha! The ginger girl sets her hair on fire, hilarious! Keep it going, it never gets old!”_

_“Don’t get your wand in a knot. I heard Pansy’s got cramps, she’ll stop.”_

_Rose’s gaze gravitated in the direction of the voice. Slytherin robes draped the boy approaching them. For the relatively young age of thirteen, he was a strapping young lad, growing into what surely would become strong shoulders. Soft dark brown hair brushed across the fair skin of his subtly sculpted face. And the eyes that were locked on the three companions were the most brilliant blue. Rose’s bright blues were relatively recognizable, but they were nothing compared to the piercing ice that this young man possessed._

_“Dante,” Rose acknowledged with a warm smile. She shuffled more to the side, nearly pushing Jonny off the edge of the bench. He stood up and leaned up against the dogwood, allowing Dante to sit down beside Rose._

_“I have a hard time believing there’s ever a time when Parkinson is sedate,” said Natasha. “That nasty bint will have her fun with anybody, any day.”_

_“Take my word for it,” said Dante, leaning forward to lean his elbow on his knee. “She’s always her worst this time of the month, but you know what they say. What goes up must come down. You just have to wait it out until then.”_

_“That’s easy for you to say,” Jonny sarcastically sneered. “You have the security of being in the same house as her.”_

_“You want a bet on that? She takes the mickey out of me all the time for hanging out with you three. She says that I should be socializing with_ “my own kind.” _Well, forgive me if I’m trying to be the civilized one in my year.”_

_“You already are,” said Rose._

_“Yes,” Natasha added, leaning closer to their Slytherin comrade. “And you don’t need Malfoy’s money to do it.”_

_Dante laughed to himself, flashing a set of fine white teeth. “I think my family and I can handle ourselves just fine, thank you very much.” And they probably could, they all thought. While they weren’t remotely close to the aristocratic affluence of the Malfoys, Dante’s family still managed to have a comfortable life by the shores of Devon._

_“Out of curiosity, where were you?” Rose asked, shifting to better face Dante. “You were the one who said we should meet up after morning classes. Why so tardy?”_

_“I was down in the dungeons, talking to Snape,” Dante explained. “He was complementing me on a well-brewed Shrinking Solution. I told him that it wouldn’t have been so well-brewed if you hadn’t been my partner in class.”_

_Rose’s eyebrow twitched up. “What did he have to say to that?”_

_“He said that it was just luck that you paid attention to what you doing and kept your hair tied back.”_

_“I told you!” Rose whirled around to point a finger at Natasha. “I told you that Snape was egging them on!”_

_“Unfairly if you ask me,” said Dante. “It was just one little accident, and you’ve gotten so much better since then. You practically saved me today, Rose. I don’t know why Snape doesn’t give you more credit.”_

_“He doesn’t give credit to anyone in my house.”_

_Dante shrugged at Rose’s comment; she did have a valid point. “True, but you at least deserve more credit than I do. I’m rubbish at Potions.”_

_“Then boy is it bad luck for you that your Head of House is the Potions master,” Natasha said with a certain smirk. Dante sniggered. “Shut up, Tasha.”_

_“You know Rose,” said Jonny, kicking his foot into the soil. “I hate to agree with a Slytherin, but Dante’s right. You do deserve better recognition in Potions.”_

_“Nonsense Jonny,” said Rose. “If anyone deserves credit, it’s Hermione Granger. I could never be as good as she is.”_

_“But you’re brilliant too,” Dante spoke up before Rose could protest. “You’re better at brewing than anyone else I know – sorry Tasha.” He ignored the slight offense in Natasha’s face before continuing. “You’ll catch up to Granger in no time. Sooner or later, Snape will see that too.”_

_“It’ll take years for that to happen, if it happens at all.”_

_“Come on, Rose. It will happen. You don’t give yourself enough credit sometimes, do you know that? I don’t care if we’re the only three people who think it right now, but a day will come when people recognize your skills. When you’re that good at one specific thing, you eventually get noticed for it.”_

_Rose thanked her lucky stars for the chilled temperatures. That way, she had an excuse for the pink staining her pale cheeks. Dante had a way with words, though he probably didn’t know that yet. For a Slytherin, he had a surprising talent for perking up your mood by telling you want you needed to hear. It had been that way since their first year. He had gotten her through some tough times in those first few months away from home. Along with Natasha and Jonny, he had been among the first to help make the transition into the Wizarding World, and he showed no signs of abandoning them. It made for an unusual sight, and an equally unusual friendship._

_She playfully cocked her head at Dante, lightly punching him in the arm. “If that’s the way you think, I suppose next you’ll be bragging that you could take on Sirius Black with nothing but your bare hands.”_

_Dante sneered in a very Slytherin manner, proving that he actually did belong in that house. “Maybe not with my bare hands, but I bet I could beat him in a magical duel.”_

_“At thirteen?” said Natasha, stating the obvious._

_“Sure, I’m not scared.”_

_“Can I be your backup when that happens?” Jonny asked, giggling._

_“Done,” said Dante. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. Rose, please tell me that you have some sweets on you.”_

**_~End Flashback~_ **

“You okay, Rose?”

Hermione’s voice pulled Rose back into the present time. Somehow, she had ended up standing at the balcony by the entrances to the dormitories, and the Head Girl was walking up the steps to meet her. Rose sighed, looking back out over her partying housemates. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had to get away for a little bit. I couldn’t hear myself think down there.”

“What were you thinking about?” Hermione asked, standing beside Rose and leaning on the stone ledge with her.

“I was thinking about Natasha, and the boys,” said Rose. Even now, she still couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud, especially with his face and voice so fresh in her mind. “I was thinking about what they might say about everything that happened today. You know, they did always say that I would be recognized one day, for one thing or another. Oh, if they could just see me now.”

“They were right to say that,” Hermione said with a warm smile. “Everyone deserves to have their time to shine.”

“That they do. It’s funny because…because he told me once that Snape would one day see me for more than that accident with my hair. I’ll bet that he never saw his Head of House whipping out his wand and saving my arse.”

“That was Snape?!”

Rose turned to Hermione’s shocked face, a small grin breaking out across her face. “He came to me in the hospital wing and told me so himself. He called me one of his favorites too.”

“I should have known,” said Hermione, shaking her head with a giggle. “No one could have been quicker with a _Levicorpus_ spell than Snape. He created that spell, did you know that? One of his favorites, he actually said that?”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” said Rose. Hermione gently squeezed her best girlfriend’s hand. “I know you won’t say it yourself, but Dante would be so proud of that. I mean _really proud_! I think he would have loved to see you get along so well with his Head of House.”

“I doubt he would have thought that after our sixth year, but if he were here today…” Rose paused. A knot was starting to work its way into her throat, though her eyes remained surprisingly dry. “You would probably be right. He’d be happy to see how we all turned out. I just wish that he was able to see it. I wish they all could.” She felt Hermione’s grip on her hand increase slightly, and Rose sighed. She was surrounded by people that she could call friends, and yet she still felt empty. All of the merry-making and all of the celebration could not take away from the absence of Jonny, Natasha, and Dante. The sense of friendly love from Hermione, her passionate feelings for Snape could not erase the heartbreak that Dante had left behind. He was the one who pushed her onward all those years ago. He said that she would have a purpose in this world, that she was worth more than what people thought.

If he had only lived to see the day when everything he said came true.


	38. Mummy Dearest

_Dear Rose,_

_Let me start by just telling you about the heart attack that your last letter nearly gave me. I told you that flying on a broom was ludicrously dangerous. How many times did I tell you that you could kill yourself doing that? I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but don’t say that I didn’t tell you so. You told me that you would be perfectly alright, and then what happens? You end up with a broken foot and shattered shoulder! I send my gratitude to this Professor Snape for saving you from being killed, and I really hope that those brutes who hurt you were punished for doing so. If not, your headmaster will be hearing from me personally._

_I can’t keep you from your team, but I sincerely hope that you consider my feelings. I have never been comfortable with you taking part in this sport, and I don’t think I ever will, especially now. You have been in enough danger in the past few years; I don’t want to see you deliberately put yourself in harm’s way. If I were in your position, I would do the sensible thing and resign from the team._

_On another note, I wish to inform you that I received my alimony payment a few days ago, right on time. Your father is a slimy git (May he rot in Hell for all that he’s done to us!), but he is very punctual in all of his payments. I must have the greatest divorce settlement in the world if not even prison can hinder that! You should be getting a letter from either your Ministry or the prison in the coming weeks about your personal account. Please let me know as soon as possible when you do. The agreement to help support you is valid until your twentieth birthday. Unless your father wishes to deal with my lawyers again when he gets out, he will do well to remember that._

_Give my love to your friends, and I look forward to seeing you at the holidays._

_Love always,_

_Mum_

Rose dropped the fold-creased paper down to the tabletop, and rested her head in both her hands. Reading that letter had given her a slight headache. But then again, some could argue that she had this coming to her. From the moment that the owls flew in and dropped the envelope down to her, Rose knew that it could be from no one but her mother. No one else would respond to a letter and send a return owl so quickly, which was remarkable considering she was a Muggle. And Rose also knew that there would be no loving in the response. After hearing what happened at the Quidditch match, Charlotte Waverly would take every opportunity to rub it in her daughter’s face that she was right. Rose was just foolish enough to hope that she would let it slide this time.

**~HP~**

“She wants you to leave the team?!” said Hermione as she, Rose, Ron, and Harry were walking to Herbology. Her eyebrows were meeting her hairline, and her shock was making its way into her voice.

“I told you she was mental,” said Rose, rather nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t expect much less from her actually.”

“You’re not going to listen to her, are you?” asked Harry. Still fresh off their victory over Slytherin, the possibility seemed to be of grave concern for the Gryffindor captain. Rose however shook her head. “Of course not. It’s not my fault that she ignores the fact that I scored three goals. And besides, she can’t stop me and she knows it. I’m an adult, and I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

Ron blew out a breath, shaking his head as he did so. “If I stood up to my mum and said that, she would slap me so hard, it would hurt my ancestors.”

“Stop it, Ron,” said Hermione. “Your mother wouldn’t do that, don’t tell Rose that.”

“It’s okay,” said Rose. “I doubt Mrs. Weasley is that overbearing.”

“She’d still give your mum a run for her money,” said Ron. “But at least mine doesn’t object to what I do here.”

“Most of the time,” Harry added with a snicker.

“Rose’s mum just doesn’t understand,” Hermione suggested. “She doesn’t know what it’s like to be magical, so she can’t really accept our ways.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to shake his head. “She’s had eighteen years to get used to it.”

“Story of my life,” Rose droned. Countless times she had complained of her mother’s outright ignorance, and she was in no mood to do it again. What use was there in complaining if there wasn’t much chance of change coming out of it?

**~HP~**

Ordinarily, Severus wouldn’t think to seek out Remus in the middle of the day. Frankly, there had been many days where he would rather get teeth pulled in that crude Muggle fashion than actively put himself in the werewolf’s company. But these were changed times, with unique circumstances. They were certainly on better terms these days, enough for Severus to tolerate his presence. And though Severus wished for some other option, Remus was probably the best person to talk to about this particular problem.

Severus needed to know how to be a parent, that was a given. More than that, he needed to know how to be a single parent. At just over three months into his pregnancy, Severus had finally taken it upon himself to sit down and go over his personal assets and affairs to see if he could make room for his unborn baby. And the more that he thought and analyzed, the more he felt his stomach drop.

His financial situation was looking pretty bleak. A professor’s salary was a fair amount of money, but it was only enough to support himself. He did have a room in his house at Spinner’s End that could be easily turned into a nursery, but he had nothing to bring back home to make over that room. He had no crib, no other furniture, no baby clothes, or any other children’s essentials. He had to buy everything! Severus wanted to provide for his child, give it everything he never had when he was young. But he knew that didn’t come cheap, especially if he wanted good quality. And that wasn’t including the cost of nappies and formula. For the first time, Severus started to regret buying those gifts for Rose. He could have used those galleons that love and _Madam Malkins’_ had so shamelessly tricked out of him.

“Albus gave me a raise in my pay,” Remus explained, kicking up his legs to set his feet on the surface of his desk. He was feeling terribly proud of himself that he and Severus were at a point where the Potions master willingly walked up to his office door, and he decided that a pile of Fourth year essays weren’t that important after all. “He realized that raising a baby is expensive, much more expensive than it was for our parents. Since I now only have my income to rely on, he took it upon himself to help me out. And I have a hunch that he’ll be doing the same for you. Forgive me for asking, but isn’t there a bonus included with the Head of House position?

“Yes, but it isn’t much,” Severus told him. The truth be told, it was much of his bonus that had been going toward Rose’s presents. “It’s still a dizzying thought, however. You know that Muggles say it takes thousands of pounds a year to properly care for a child.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus said with raised eyebrows and a shaking head. “I figured that out over the summer. It’s all about checks and balances, I suppose. You’ve got to know what goes toward food, the home, stuff for the baby. You don’t have as much for yourself anymore, but I didn’t have that much to start out with. I’m used to it by now. You’re a clever man, Severus. You’ll figure it out. Think of it this way. If Arthur and Molly could raise seven children on a single income, you could do it with one.”

It was only slightly reassuring to hear this. Severus understood that Remus did have some sort of advantage in having spent most of his adult life on the poverty line. If the werewolf could manage without feeling like he was drowning in money troubles, then he shouldn’t have too much trouble. Severus just remembered all the years of second-hand, far too oversized clothes, and the dingy, dirty belongings that came to school with him. He didn’t want to put his child through the same.

“We all want our children to have better lives than we did,” said Remus. “Trust me, I know how that feels. As much as I know I have to pay attention to my assets, I spent much of the advance Albus sent me on toys for my son. I don’t care who you are, my kid comes first. You know Severus, it’s pretty easy to forget about your own needs when you have a child. When Andromeda writes to me about how Teddy has outgrown his clothes again, I won’t think twice before sending her the money.”

“At least you have Andromeda Tonks to fall back on.”

That was another disparaging thought that had found its way back into Severus’s mind. It took a lot of money to raise a baby. He needed to work to get the money. Therefore, Severus had to find some way to balance his job and caring for the child. He really couldn’t afford any kind of daycare, and he quite resented the idea of letting someone else raise his child in the way Remus was. He wanted have as much say in his child’s upbringing as possible, and yet he didn’t want to give up any aspect of his career. It also occurred to him that he would definitely have no time for himself. The idea of his busy life becoming busier was overwhelming to say the least.

“Severus, the only thing I can say is that you have to learn to accept help when it’s offered to you. I didn’t want to let Andromeda take temporary custody of my child. Yet I realized that it was the best course of action for both Teddy and myself. As much as I love my son, I would be running mad right now if I had him with me all the time. But that’s just me. I’m lucky that I have an understanding mother-in-law to take the best care of my boy, and a very understanding employer who lets me get away to visit every odd weekend. You know what, Severus? I think that’s the key to being a single parent. You have to figure out what works for you and your child, and take all the help that you need. It’s true, raising a child on your own is the hardest job in the world. But take my word for it. You can manage alright, and you will. We see hundreds of kids come through our classrooms every day, and presumably, a good chunk of them come from single parent households. Most of them turned out alright, didn’t they?”

Severus thought for a moment. That certainly was true when you thought about it long enough. He knew of several students who grew up decently with just their father or mother around. Please, Potter was an orphan and he didn’t turn out _too_ badly. So many people had done it before him, but Severus would never be sure of himself until the baby came and he found himself in the middle of all of his worries.

Remus went to grab his quill to start grading those annoying essays when he suddenly stopped. He seemed to have abruptly remembered something because he slammed his palm down on his desk before pointing at the Potions master. “While I have you here, Severus, I’ve just remembered. Rose Beckett came up to me after my Seventh year lesson this morning, and she told me to tell you that she needs to talk to you later. Something about her mother wanting to thank you for saving her daughter’s life, I think she said.”

_‘She’s coming by later tonight. She could have waited to tell me herself.’_ Severus’s mulling thoughts stopped abruptly when he fully processed that statement. Hundreds of his students had grown up with one parent, whether through death or divorce. Rose was one of them, and she appeared to have had a fairly good upbringing on her Muggle mother’s part. Severus had never met the woman, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the mysterious former Mrs. Beckett had done to end up with a grown daughter as brilliant and loving as hers.

**~HP~**

“I don’t know why you are so bothered over this,” Severus said to say as he glanced down into his cauldron. He was working on an example of the Dreamless Sleep Potion for one of his classes, while Rose set herself to washing a pile of dirty beakers and test tubes on the other side of the Potions classroom. “It sounds to me like your mother is simply being a mother.”

“I understand that, Professor,” said Rose, setting aside a beaker to dry. She didn’t really set out to vent about her mother’s letter to Snape, but she had been doing just that for nearly an hour now. It didn’t even matter if Snape or any other person cared, just as long as they listened. “But she doesn’t have to be so overbearing when she does. I mean, she wants me to live my life so long as it doesn’t affect her. But that doesn’t stop her from sticking her nose into my business when I least appreciate it. Even when it has nothing to do with her, she freaks out like it does!”

Severus couldn’t help but shake his head. Blinded by his own love and desire for her, it was easy to forget that Rose was still just an eighteen year-old girl. And right now, she sounded more the part than he had ever heard before. “You are her child. Everything that happens to you affects her.”

“I wish she could just make up her mind already,” said Rose. “Either ignore my magical life like at home, or get more involved in a positive way. Just don’t nag me when something happens, that’s all I ask.”

“Rose, I don’t know your mother, but given what’s happened in our world these last few years, I can’t exactly blame her for worrying about you.”

Rose glared at Snape weakly out of the corner of her eye. “It doesn’t have to be a dark lord and an impending war to get her knickers in a knot. You should have read the letter I got from her after that time my hair caught fire. I don’t know who she was angrier at; you for letting it happen in the first place, or Professor McGonagall for cutting the rest off until it was shoulder length.”

“Red hair can be quite striking on certain people,” said Snape, very careful in his choice of words. “I would guess that she wants you to preserve yours as much as you can. Frankly, if it were my daughter, I would do the same thing.”

“You’d have to get used to the ginger jokes, because that’s what my mum had to do. No one else in our family has red hair, so we get them a lot. You’re right, by the way. She says my hair was the one good thing I got from my dad. He’s not ginger either, but she still assumes that it came from his family.”

_‘They’re Irish, of course she would,”_ Severus thought to himself. Given Rose’s relatively calm state, the Potions master decided to go out on a limb in this conversation. He needed a clearer picture to really side with the Gryffindor.  “How was that otherwise, growing up with a single mother?”

Rose looked back at Snape briefly, appearing almost surprised. She then went back to washing and scrubbing. “We had our ups and downs,” she said. “You know, there were times when money was a little tight, but we managed pretty well most of the time. My mum was in a tough place when my dad left us; suddenly divorced, no real income, and she had a two year-old to care for.”

“What did she do?” asked Severus.

“She packed everything up and moved us out of London. She knew she needed to work longer hours, and she couldn’t afford daycare. So she had to rely on the family for a while, until I started primary school. I don’t really believe that though. I think she was just looking for an excuse to move back to Meadow Hill. As far as she was concerned, she was getting away from my dad and back to her family. She was happy!”

“And you’re still there.”

Rose nodded with a weak smile. “In the same house that we’ve been in for sixteen years.”

“But what about your father? I would assume that she didn’t let him slink away quietly.”

“Certainly not,” said Rose, rolling her blue eyes. “She knew he had some money to his name, and she wanted a piece of that. I tell you, Professor. If I ever get a divorce, I want her lawyer because I want the kind of deal she got. Spousal and child support until my nineteenth birthday, and he deposits into my vault at Gringotts twice a year until my twentieth birthday. It wasn’t as much as she would have liked, but it helped us a lot. One way or another, she kept the roof over our heads, and she kept food on the table. I give Mum a lot of credit, she never gave up.”

“So you could say that you had a good childhood, given the circumstances?” Severus stopped when Rose’s face suddenly fell from the casual relaxation she had been demonstrating. She didn’t look offended, but there was quite a bit of hesitation in that frown. Still, Rose shrugged her shoulders with a sigh.

“Yeah, you could say that. I got everything I needed as a child if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“But were you happy?”

Again Rose sighed. There was a moment of silence for both the witch and the wizard, allowing Rose the time to choose her words before speaking again. “No, not all the time.”

Severus put a lid on his cauldron and left the potion to stew. He then came around his desk and pulled up a stool at one of the student tables. He motioned to the empty stool beside him, beckoning Rose to sit. To his surprise, she did so without even the slightest hint of hesitation. Rose leaned heavily on her elbows, propping her chin on the knuckles of her closed fist.

“It’s not because of your mother’s…well, as you describe it, her lunacy, is it?” asked Severus, treading carefully as he didn’t quite know what to expect.

“No, it isn’t that,” said Rose. “Yeah, she’s off her rocker. I know that, you know that, a lot of other people know that. But that’s just the way she is. Charlotte Waverly was that way before she met my dad, and she was that way long after he was gone.”

“Then what is it that made you unhappy?” Rose paused to swallow hard, and then looked back to Snape. “It was my relationship with my mother. I feel like it could have been better.”

Severus had to recollect his thoughts after that one. By all appearances, Rose seemed to have a pretty good relationship with her mother, outside the apparent nagging and high expectations for life. It at least had to be better than with that slick git of a father of hers. “Forgive me Rose, but what do you mean?” he asked. “I would think that something like a broken marriage would bring a mother closer to her child.”

“You would think that,” said Rose, slowly shaking her head. Severus noticed that her eyes now appeared disturbingly hollow, despite her lack of outward emotion. “I wish that was the case. We just never really connected in the way I feel like a mother and daughter should. She never made it a secret that she loved me, but there were a lot of times where I felt that I was laid to the wayside a bit.”

“She neglected you?” Severus inquired, feeling a twinge of fear in the pit of his stomach. He would rather be hexed into last week than hear about Rose going through the same torment his parents thrust on him.

Rose shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I just felt like there were times in my life where her needs came first. Mum was determined to have the happy life that she always wanted, but I feel she didn’t always think about what was good for me, how her choices affected me.”

“What choices?”

“Men for one,” Rose said simply. “Since my dad obviously wasn’t the one, Mum was pretty hell-bent on finding the man of her dreams. But I don’t think she quite realized that he needed to be a father figure for me too. She brought guys home without really thinking about how he would bond with a child.”

“I can only imagine the motley characters that came through your mother’s house,” said Severus.

“Professor Snape, you have no bloody idea. You could line up a hundred Muggle men, and my mother will pick out the attention-starved, paranoid, overly clingy, ex-drunk each and every time.”

Severus rubbed his forehead. No wonder Rose had allegedly never outwardly dated at Hogwarts, not with that kind of example. “Not everyone can have good taste, I suppose.”

“Anything better than my father,” said Rose. “That’s what she was always looking for. I suppose when you take magic out of the equation, everybody looks like they’ve got potential.”

“Did she ever talk about getting married again?” asked Severus.

“She did more than talk about it. She married again when I was three.”

“So soon after getting a divorce?” Severus was more than a little shocked at the idea of waiting less than a year before jumping into a new committed relationship, especially when the woman had such a young child at the time. Rose shrugged. “I don’t think the ink on the paperwork was dry yet.”

“What sort of man was he?”

“By my mother’s standards, he was terrifically average.” Rose noticed the odd look on Snape’s face, prompting a better explanation. “That was a good thing. My stepfather was the first man that she went out with after my dad, and like I said, anyone who wasn’t a wizard was good enough for her.”

“How did the two of them meet?”

“I don’t remember,” said Rose, rolling her eyes. “I was so young at the time, I barely recall a time before they were married. I don’t even remember what he did for a living back then. All I do remember was that this man came to live with us, and then there was this big ceremony. I must admit though, out of the guys that she could have married, she picked a decent one. He had a steady job, he kept us fed, and he kept the house up and running.”

Severus was beginning to notice a pattern in Rose’s words. Was, had, remember. She was speaking to the past, sounding so distant with every breath. This was not the way someone talked about a doting foster parent. More and more, Severus was convinced that this marriage had fared no better than Alistair’s, but it couldn’t have hurt Rose as much as he feared. “Did he treat you well?”

“He treated my mother well,” said Rose. “For a long time, they were mad about each other. I swear, they were like teenagers sometimes. He treated the woman like she was priceless treasure most of the time.”

“But what about you?” Snape interrupted. Rose faltered, biting her lip slightly. But then she looked up at the Potions master and gazed into his ebony eyes, seeking the nerve to get everything off her chest. She got it when Severus carefully touched her arm.

“I don’t think he cared for me much,” she said. “Come to think of it, I don’t think he liked kids that much in general. I mean, he never laid a hand on me, but life with him was only slightly easier than it was with my real father. My stepfather didn’t even attempt to bond with me as I got older. He never made me feel like I was his own. I was just left over from a bad relationship. Professor, do you know what I heard him call me once?” Severus shook his head. “Baggage, he compared me to baggage. He said as long as I was around, my mother’s first marriage was around. I think he actually looked forward to those weekends when I was away with my dad.”

Severus drew his hand back, trying to contain his offense. Why was it that this poor girl had such bad luck with father figures in her youth? Now he really hoped that there was a definite, unquestionable, obvious reason for Rose’s constant use of the past tense.  “He’s not around anymore, is he?”

Rose shook her head. “No, he’s not. After seven years, the relationship just kind of fizzled out, and they separated. It wasn’t dramatic or anything though. Mum describes it as very amicable. And the divorce was cleaner this time too. They both maintained their own bank accounts, the house was already in my mum’s name, and they didn’t have any children together. They worked out all the legal stuff, my stepfather moved out, and I haven’t seen him since. I was ten.”

Severus let his thoughts wander back to his own childhood. So that was it then. You realize that neither of you are happy, that you’re affecting your children, and it’s best to get out before it gets too painful. Why couldn’t his parents have realized that when they had plenty of ample opportunity? Severus knew that they were married probably a decade too long. They all would have been a lot better off if his mother had gotten the courage to stand up for herself. He might have even preferred if his father had found himself a sympathetic prostitute and took off. He would have taken anything if it meant that he didn’t have to go suffer through all of that, left alone to his misery by the two who should have cared for him most.

He flinched when he felt Rose’s warm hand touch his shoulder. He glanced up to meet her eyes, seeing the slight concern in her stare. “Are you okay?” she said, her voice quite small now.

“Yes,” said Severus, his larynx trying to block any words from making it past his throat. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, two failed marriages before you were ready for Hogwarts. But at least your mother knew to get out of that relationship before it became too much of a burden.”

“She did, yes,” said Rose, leaning her elbow on the desk while still looking at her teacher. “But thank God that I was off to Hogwarts in a year because that’s when it started to get rough for her. I don’t think my mother can function without a man in her life. That woman just doesn’t let her bed get cold! Every time I came home for the summer, there was always a new man to get acquainted with. She barely even gave me enough time to figure out if I liked the guy or not – I didn’t most of the time. Over and over again, it drove me mad after the fourth of fifth one. And when I go back for Christmas, there will probably be another one! It almost gave me a reason to look forward to getting away to my dad’s.”

“These visits with your father,” said Severus. “How often were they?”

“I was lucky if I saw him three times a year.” Rose got to her feet and started to slowly pace the floor before Snape’s desk. “Once at Christmas, once during the summer, and sometimes around my birthday, before I started school.”

“Where did he take you?”

“London, and he didn’t take me, he met me. Whenever my dad was supposed to have me when I was a kid, my stepfather drove me from Meadow Hill into the city. He would then meet up with my dad in Trafalgar Square, and hand me off to him. As I got older, they felt more comfortable with putting me on a train into King’s Cross to meet him there.”

“Hold on a second.” Snape held up a hand, causing Rose to stop in her tracks. “How did your stepfather know who your actual father was? And why didn’t your mother go along?”

Rose turned to face him again, leaning against the high desk. “Turns out Mum managed to keep one photograph of my dad, which she gave to my stepfather to identify him. And as for why she never came, it was because she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. She still doesn’t! Not that my dad’s complaining, he’s the same way. Believe me when I say this, Professor. My parents haven’t actually been in the same room together since their divorce was finalized. That was sixteen years ago! If they speak at all, it’s through writing, and they have been going out of their way to keep it like that.”

“Well then,” said Severus, his head starting to spin from this excess of familial dysfunction. “That’s rather selfish of both of them that they can’t be cordial for thirty seconds to handle their own custody agreement.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Professor,” Rose agreed with a calm sneer. Getting a little uncomfortable with her pacing, Snape urged her to sit down again, which she did without protest. He turned towards her, coaxing her to do the same. “Where did you and your father go from there?”

“Most of the time, we just went back to his flat.”

“His flat?” Severus inquired. Anyone who knew Alistair knew that he was born of wealth, and that he liked to throw that fact around whenever he got the chance. A man as pompous as he would probably put out some for a large secluded home in the middle of the country.

“Yeah, he has a flat in London,” said Rose, nodding her head. “Or had one at least. It was just your standard place, two bedrooms, one bathroom. I don’t know if he lived there all the time, but that’s always where he took me for our weekends.”

“Didn’t it ever strike you as odd that that was where he lived despite the money he has?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that he had money until I was older,” Rose explained. “It wasn’t until that I got into my fault at Gringotts that both he and my mother explained that his family was very well off, and that he would support me financially through my school years.”

“I do hope he was fair with this trust fund of yours?”

Rose rolled her eyes, her lips twitching into an amused smile. “Everyone calls it a trust fund,” she said, more to herself than to her professor. “I got by alright most of the time. A hundred and fifty galleons a year usually, maybe a little more. Dad opened the account when I was little, putting money in twice a year. Mum says that it was part of their agreement, but I’m convinced that he only did it because he knew that Hogwarts letter was coming. It’s only been more recently that I’ve had to budget myself more than I used to. I’m not that worried though.”

“Only a hundred and fifty galleons?” Snape said with raised eyebrows. Rose was immediately suspicious, and her eyes narrowed. “Why? Do you think it should have been more?”

Taken aback, Severus hesitated briefly before speaking. “Well, given his family’s fortune, he could stand to let you have a little more. You are his only child after all.”

Rose was very quiet, disturbingly quiet. Her fair brow wrinkled, casting a slight shadow over her eyes. For a moment, Severus wondered what he had said to get such a response. But he soon got his answer when Rose sighed. “He’s really that rich, isn’t he?”

“The Becketts are not the Malfoys, but they are one of the wealthier Wizarding families in Ireland.”

“You can’t believe that my dad would live in a flat in the middle of Muggle London, can you?”

“I…um,” Severus stammered slightly. All this time, he never once thought of the possibility that Rose wasn’t aware of the real grandeur to her name. And he certainly didn’t want to be the one to drop that delightful bombshell on her, not willingly anyway. “Forgive me, but I thought that you knew that already.”

“I only know what people tell me,” said Rose. “And no one’s ever given me a real idea about how wealthy my father is. Tell me, Professor. Where does he really live if not in London? Have you ever been there?”

“The Becketts have a family estate outside of Dublin. From what I’ve heard, your father was brought up in England as only the true head of the family lives there.”

“That’s my grandfather, right?” said Rose.

“Currently, yes,” Severus answered. “Phineas Beckett, another one of those pompous, reputation-wary wizards. Of course, you know that already.”

“Actually no, I don’t.” Rose shook her head dubiously. “I haven’t met any of my father’s family.”

_‘You can’t even introduce your child to her own family,’_ Severus thought angrily to himself before speaking again. “Anyway, your father has been known to go there when he’s not in London. And yes, I have been there.” Severus left out the little detail that it was because Alistair had one time opened up his father’s home for a Death Eater meeting, a feeble attempt to get further into that tight little circle.

“What’s it like?” Rose asked, but Snape shook his head at her. “I don’t think I should say. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Since when did you care about what’s fair? I’m already angry enough at the man, so just tell me. How big is the house?”

It really wasn’t fair for Rose, whether because she had been cheated out of a fabulous lifestyle, or because her own father was the one withholding that from her. She could have already known and seen this for herself if it had not been for Alistair. Severus suddenly found himself questioning how deeply kept a secret Rose was. Alistair would have to be the coward of all cowards if he couldn’t own up to having a child with a Muggle to his own family. Seeing the look in Rose’s eyes, Severus took a deep breath in and spoke. “The house itself is rather large. It’s not Malfoy Manor, but it’s substantial. And there’s a large plot of well-kept land, right in the middle of the Irish hills that goes along with it. Eight people could live there comfortably.”

Rose forced out a low sigh, shutting her eyes. Snape also noticed her knuckles go white. “I knew it,” she said with a snarl. “He’s fucking loaded, and he never let me in on it.”

“I told you it wouldn’t be fair,” said Severus. He would have gone on to tell her that Alistair probably had his reasons in keeping her away from his family’s home. But what good was there in that considering that those reasons were no doubt just as pathetic.

Not that Rose needed to be told that. A flurry of raging thoughts were swarming through her head. Her mother had once ranted that they could have lived a lavish life, but she didn’t know the half of it. Maybe the mad woman had been right. Maybe they could have gotten more for their suffering. No, Rose should have gotten more anyway! She was a Beckett being denied her right. She could have been a part of that aristocratic lifestyle if her bastardly father had only allowed her. If the man had been standing in front of her, Rose could have wrung his neck with her bare hands.

She blinked away the sharp sting she started to feel in her eyes.

Snape’s voice came again. “I really do hope that he at least treated you well when he did have you in his custody.”

“He treated me as well as he could,” said Rose, her voice now dipping into the range of a whisper. “He kept me occupied those weekends. He used to buy me toys and stuff when I was little, occasionally took me into town. But as I got older, he mostly left me to entertain myself. I told you before that the last visit I had when I was fifteen, I mostly spent it alone. He said he had _business_ to attend to. He left me there in the flat while he went to do other things. Believe me Professor, these weekends were never fun. I always made sure my mother knew that when I got home.”

“But why did she keep sending you back?” Severus swiped a hand through the air. “If she didn’t want anything to do with him, why did she force that on you?”

“Because she wanted me to know my father,” Rose explained, her tone hardening. “She said it would be better for me in the long run. Well bugger to her because I’m still waiting for that to happen. My life would have been a whole lot better if I had never met that man. She’s even said that herself, that hypocrite!”

“You needed to know him,” Snape tried to say. “Without him, you would have gone through your life thinking you were Muggle-born. You would have been identified as such during the war. You could have been in grave danger.”

“Like that mattered to my mother,” Rose snarled before shooting up out of her seat and resuming her pacing. “It couldn’t possibly matter that much to a woman who brings up her ex-husband every time her child tries to show her how good magic really is.”

And that was all that Severus needed to hear. He stood up from his seat and walked over to block her path. She stopped and stood still before him. For good measure given that she was so close, with nothing to block her view of his abdomen, Severus drew the length of his robes around his body. “Don’t tell me that she compares you to your father,” he pleaded, sternly but softly.

“Only when she’s in a particularly foul mood,” said Rose. “When she gets like that, she seems to find something about me that somehow links me to him, and she jumps right on it. It could be as simple as a small act of magic. When I had spontaneous magical bursts when I was young, you don’t know how angry she would get afterward. She never explained what happened, just grumbled about my no good, deadbeat father. It didn’t dawn on me until years later that it was because she knew he could do the same.”

Rose bit her lip and pressed her eyes closed. Her breath started coming in quick puffs, and Severus placed his hands on her shoulders. He never thought he would ever find a reason to quote Remus until now. “You know that it’s okay to cry.”

“No,” Rose bit out. She turned slightly away from the Potions master. “No…I just learned to live with it. I’ve got two dysfunctional parents, both of whom have a mess of issues. I learned to live with my father, but my mother should know better. She knows that someone has to be the better parent, and yet she cannot accept – no – refuses to accept my world! And on top of that, everything that I do reminds her of my father. I am not my father!”

“No, you’re not,” Severus sternly reinforced. “You have been told that countless times, and you have no reason to believe otherwise. What your mother does is not fair to you, Rose. Clearly, she still has an issue with your father that she hasn’t worked out, perhaps also with herself for what went on between them. But she cannot take that out on you. You are an innocent in that matter, and you always will be an innocent.”

Rose sighed a long sigh. Timidly, yet not entirely so, she brought a hand up from her side to lightly grip Snape’s forearm. She could feel his support running through the tips of her fingers, and her longing to let her body fall into his arms burned in her stomach. Her pounding heart beat relentlessly for him, making her quietly gasp in love, not pent-up frustration.

“I’m done trying with her,” she said. “I’m done trying to be her perfect daughter when clearly I cannot. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the one standing in the way of her happiness, of not being able to change her mind.”

“You have said it yourself that she’s set in her ways,” Snape reminded her. It had been several weeks since she had said that, but he remembered it all the same. That alone made Rose’s mood perk up a little as the Potions master continued. “If I can make any assumptions about her, it’s that her views of our world are merely the result of her experiences with one wizard. And it was no doubt a blow to her to find out that this same wizard is now in prison for possibly using a great deal of dark magic. But even if she never learns to look at your life with an open mind, you have made one thing clear to me. She does care about you, and quite a lot to boot. She doesn’t let her own issues get in the way of her feelings for you as her child. She might not like what you do here, but she loves you all the same. Not everyone can say that.”

Now Rose really had to hold herself back from throwing herself at Snape to embrace him. Her heart could have burst with passion, her very soul was crying out for him. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body, be encased in his arms. But she had to settle for the rough feel of his sleeve against her palm.

Snape allowed her a moment to grip that sleeve before carefully pulling away to return to the cauldron on his desk. But before totally submerging himself into his decidedly cluttered thoughts, he heard Rose’s voice come one last time. “Professor, you wouldn’t do that to your child, would you?”

Why Rose felt the need to ask that, Severus would never know. Could she somehow sense that fatherhood was in his near future? But still it was a tough question to ignore, especially with that current situation. He thought about the child he was carrying. He thought of the mistakes of Tobias, Eileen, Alistair, and now Charlotte. As unsure of himself as he was, he was certain of one thing. His child would never know that kind of pain. They would never be abused, whether with force or with words. They would never be made the blame for someone else’s mistake. And they would never be left alone with only self-pity for company. Regardless of the circumstances that led to the conception, or of Severus’s own harrowing experiences, his child would be loved.

He looked at Rose, still waiting before his desk, and he steadily and surely shook his head. “Never,” he said, simply enough to satisfy the young witch and send her back to the sinks and dirty glass.


	39. The Dark Lord's follower

If Rose had known just how cathartic talking about her mother would be, she would have thought about doing it a long time ago. For so long, she kept most of that to herself, almost ashamed to vent so angrily about a woman that she still loved and cared for. It was as though a weight had come off her shoulders when that guilt left her. And for it to be Snape to listen so intently and reassure her without having to be asked, it was more than Rose could have ever asked for. He ended up inspiring a lengthy response letter back to Meadow Hill, hopefully giving her mother something to think about. The elaborate, most pleasant dreams about him that _so annoyingly_ plagued Rose at night didn’t hurt either.

She was now seeking out Snape’s company on a near daily basis, whether going down to the dungeons on her breaks or waiting until the evenings after meals. She didn’t care, just as long as she got to be alone with the Potions master. She was also starting to push the limits with her curfew. She always made it back to Gryffindor tower on time, she just stretched out her visits for as long as possible. Snape wasn’t sending her away anymore, so why not stay until she literally couldn’t any longer? And every time, she always came back feeling like she was lighter than air. She had to be head over heels, the way she was smiling whenever she turned up, the way she hoped to feel the touch of his hand against hers again.

Of course, these more frequent visits didn’t exactly go unnoticed by her friends. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all found themselves close to an admission of total bafflement at the idea of Rose spending nearly as much time with Snape outside of class as she did with them. Hermione in particular noted the boost in Rose’s overall mood as of late. She seemed much happier these days, happier than she was at the start of term at least. They all knew that there had to be some sort of explanation, and that the only person who knew for sure was Rose. However, she had not been very inclined to indulge them about exactly what was said in those long evening sessions.

“With all the time you hang around there, he has to say something sometime,” said Ron, grasping Hermione’s hand. The couple sat on a short courtyard wall, with Rose and Harry not far away. Actually, they were standing, beckoning them to follow. They had killed enough time out there, and they didn’t want to be late to Transfiguration. “What does Snape say to you when you’re down there, Rose?”

“We discuss lots of things,” said Rose. “Although, I couldn’t tell you exactly what even if I wanted to.”

“And why the hell not?” Ron asked, a little too bluntly for Hermione’s liking. He got a light swat as they stood up and gathered up their books.

“Because Snape and I have an agreement,” Rose replied as the four friends set off and returned inside. The warmth of the castle’s halls was most welcome; it seemed that winter would be arriving early that year. “I told him that I wouldn’t repeat what he says to anyone else.”

“See Rose, you can’t say things like that,” said Harry, wrinkling his brow. “It’s like dangling a slab of meat in front of starving dog, it’s just not fair. You’re almost obligated to give us a clue after that.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. “Is he letting you in on some deep, dark secrets in Potion making that we’re not supposed to know yet? Did he tell you how you actually make Bubble-juice Potion?”

“He’s not teaching me anything illegal if that’s what you’re _implying_.” Rose glared at her fellow ginger out of the corner of her eye. Ron pulled back slightly; they all knew how defensive Rose could get when you talked down on her more favored teachers, Snape being an alarming addition.

“Well, give us some slack,” said Harry, an odd look passing over his face. “This isn’t exactly Gilderoy Lockhart that you’re hanging around with. We don’t know what kind of dark magical secrets Snape has floating around in that head of his. I mean, at one time or another, this guy followed Lord Voldemort – he hasn’t brought up Voldemort, has he?”

“He hasn’t,” said Rose, quite firmly. “Merlin, is it so wrong for a man to feel the need to be private?”

“I agree,” Hermione added. “I doubt Snape would want to talk about You-know-who anyway, after what happened last May. I wouldn’t want to aggravate him with those memories.”

Rose nodded her head. “Exactly, and that’s why I let him decide what’s safe to discuss. I don’t press him for anything.”

“You should, you have better chances of actually getting something out of him.”

That was probably true, Rose thought to herself. And the subject of the war was certainly a thought-provoking topic. But Rose had never once thought to bring it up. It was hard enough for her to think back on that terrible night, but she couldn’t imagine what it had done to Snape. He had been through unbelievable trauma in those days and weeks afterward, he had told Rose himself how painful it was. She didn’t want to remind him of all of that. But that didn’t stop her from wondering.

Compared to her friends, Rose had very little real experience with the Dark Lord. It wasn’t that his existence had no bearing on her; how could he not with her being a half-blood with a passion for Muggles? It was just that she never saw any of his incomprehensible evil for herself, firsthand. She only saw what his followers did. The pain that she experienced was from the torture that they inflicted. For years, it was almost as though the Dark Lord was some sort of distant threat; he didn’t seem that real to her. She was safe as long as she was at Hogwarts. But then there was that scuffle that supposedly took the life of the headmaster. Her life was now in grave danger from a still invisible force. Rose did not know the meaning of terror until she heard that ungodly voice echoing through the halls, calling them to battle. Lucky for her, that voice was the closest she would ever get to that monster.

But now the monster was slain, the world was free again, and Rose was left with a strange curiosity. The answers just had to come at the right time from the right person. She had the Boy-who-lived for a friend, but she loved Severus Snape. Why question the hero when you had someone who was at one time on the enemy’s side?

If only there was a way to gently approach the subject without hitting a particular nerve.

“That reminds me,” said Hermione, her index finger springing up. “I think I’ve finally figured out what was wrong with Snape earlier this term.”

“It only took you three months,” Harry teased.

“Oh Harry,” Rose playfully sneered. She turned her head back to Hermione. “What do think it was?”

“I think he has Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. I read about it in a magazine over the summer, and the symptoms are there. The poor health, the mood-swings, the anger –,”

“He’s gotten better,” interrupted Rose, again wanting to protect her beloved Potions master. Hermione nodded her head at her, noticing how quick she was to respond. “I’m not saying that he hasn’t. I just think that his near-death experience may have left him pretty traumatized, on top of everything he had been through with You-know-who.”

“Wouldn’t really surprise me,” said Ron. “Although I think it only gives him an excuse to be ornery this term.”

“Hey guys, don’t do that,” Rose interrupted yet again. “I’ve been around Snape a lot this term; I saw how he’s gotten better. If he was bloody traumatized, then maybe he’s gotten some help. So just leave it alone. Snape is a private man. He doesn’t like people gossiping about him behind his back.”

“Did he say that, or are you just assuming?” Harry smiled at her, and Rose cocked a flaxen brow at him. “I’ll let you decide on that one.”

“Incoming!”

Harry stuck his hand out right in front of Rose, stopping them both in their tracks. Snape had suddenly appeared from around the corner and was headed right for them. A quick glance to their right made them realize that Ron had decided to gently pull Hermione to their side of the hallway. All four of them pressed themselves closer to the wall, allowing Snape to pass without having to shove them aside. The Potions master slowed to glare at them out of the corner of his dark eyes, but he did not open his mouth to speak. Instead, he just let his eyes travel up and down each of them. Rose thought that he took a little extra time on her, though that might have been wishful thinking on her part. To her, being so close to Snape while surrounded by her friends, this was another test of her acting abilities. She felt the steady thumping behind her breast, and she had to ignore the tingling in her lips trying to irk them into a smile.

Without a word, Snape continued on his way, robes sweeping the floor behind him. Rose didn’t take his eyes off him until he disappeared into the next corridor, and she let out a slow, quiet sigh to steady her excited heart. It was Ron’s sarcastic voice that brought her back to the present conversation. “Oh yeah, he’s really traumatized.”

**~HP~**

Severus couldn’t help but notice the change in Rose’s demeanor that evening. Perched at his classroom desk, he had set himself to grading mountains of student quizzes while the lovely Gryffindor worked on an example potion for one of the younger classes. But as much as he tried to stay focused on his work, which for once he managed to do so without too much difficulty, he saw every nervous glance Rose made over her shoulder, every motion to speak before faltering. She quite obviously had something on her mind, but her bravery had suddenly been taken down a notch.

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be angry because he had actually overheard her conversation with those three fame-hungry cretins she called friends. So Granger thought he was traumatized, huh? Had she completely exhausted all her thought that all she could come up with was a simple, sometimes overused Muggle diagnosis? Really, of all the students who would think of male pregnancy, even in the slightest fleeting thought, it ought to be her. Well, he was no psychologist, but Severus would rather she make up some elaborate magical ailment for the others to believe. Now, he just sounded weak, like he wasn’t strong enough to handle trauma. And even if he couldn’t, he was far better now than he was six months ago.

The only thing that stopped him from going off on those three was the fact that Rose was bold enough to stick up for him. To think that she was being perfectly and courteously honest with them while at the same time trying to knock Potter off his high horse! She was trying to help them to see her side of the coin, even if there wasn’t a snowflake’s chance in hell that it would happen with those three meddlesome fools. But she still tried all the same, and Severus could not have been prouder of her for that.

But still, it could have been Granger’s determination to give a name to his poor health that had Rose acting so funny now. For all Severus knew, she could have been charged with getting some sort of confirmation to their diagnosis, or even a denial. But something was stopping her from getting words out.

Finally, Rose lowered the flame under her potion and turned to approach the head desk. She was wringing her fingers a bit as she leaned on the tabletop before Snape. “Do you mind if I ask you something, Professor?”

“No, go ahead,” Severus said, shaking his head. Here it comes, he thought to himself. The wizard rapidly tried to come up with a viable excuse that did not include some Muggle trauma disorder.

“What was he like?”

The Potions master briefly wrinkled his brow, caught slightly off guard by the question. “Who?”

“You know…Lord Voldemort.” Rose said this very delicately, still not very used to using that terrible name. Severus meanwhile was quietly stunned. That was certainly something that he never imagined coming from Rose’s lips. She had never brought up many of her own wartime experiences, much less his! Where had this come from? “Rose, why would you want to know something like that?”

“I’ve always been curious,” Rose explained. “Unlike others around here, I never met that madman…not that I really wanted to, mind you.”

“But you’re still curious?” questioned Severus. He was starting to feel what could have been a stone in his stomach. Nerves were beginning to set in. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, but he couldn’t just refuse and shut down. “You have to understand, Rose. This is not generally something I discuss with students. Actually, I don’t really like talking about the Dark Lord with anyone these days.”

Rose’s eyes fell slightly, looking rather disappointed. “Oh, alright. If it bothers you…”

“Well you don’t have to look so thwarted,” Severus said with a frown. “Does it really mean that much to you for me to tell you?”

“Not if it comes at your expense,” said Rose. “I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready to talk about.”

“It’s alright, Rose. I’m just not used to those sorts of questions coming out of nowhere.” Snape’s eyes darted away, and he let go of a sigh. He didn’t need to say it for Rose to know that he was unsettled, and the Gryffindor could understand entirely. Rose leaned her body to the side to get a better look at his face, and smiled in a rather reassuring way.

“You really haven’t spoken of this much, have you?” she said. Severus shook his head briefly, and Rose offered a comforting giggle. “It’s been six months, Professor. If it’s not safe to talk now, I don’t know if it ever will be.” Her attraction getting the better of her, she reached out to touch him, though stopping just short of his sleeve. “He can’t hurt us anymore.”

Severus sank back into his mind, and a long pondering moment made him realize that was true. He had avoided this discussion for months, with everyone from annoying reporters, to the headmaster himself. If he kept away from it for much longer, it was hard to tell if he ever would talk. And Rose didn’t mean to cause him any harm. He was probably better off getting it over with while he had the chance. He had enough struggle and pain built up without his involvement in the war. He absentmindedly adjusted his collar before turning back to Rose.

“The Dark Lord…” he started, slowly figuring out the right way to go about this. “The Dark Lord was everything that you as a young Gryffindor would imagine him to be. He was wicked beyond comprehension, and he was unspeakably cruel. He was cunning by anyone’s definition, knew aspects of magic that few could even grasp, but completely demented in his views of the world. In all of those years, I don’t think that there was one false report about him.”

“I could hardly believe the things that he said,” Rose said in a low voice. “Like how Muggle-borns were nothing but filth.”

“Worse than filth,” Severus added. “To him, they weren’t worth the sweat off their foreheads. I myself could hardly believe that propaganda about Muggle-borns stealing wands from other wizards.”

“I know. I don’t know how they thought that anyone would believe that rubbish.”

“My words exactly. You and I obviously know that to be false, but there was no deterring the believers, the Dark Lord being the strongest of them all. And don’t even get started with the Muggles themselves. They might as well have been animals to him, and he treated them as such whenever he got the chance.”

Rose swallowed at that notion. “Did he...did he really do those horrible things to Muggles?”

“Yes, and far worse than what the papers would report,” said Snape. “I saw it happen too many times in my youth. Those Muggles were lucky if the Dark Lord simply killed them off without much of a fuss. If he was in those moods…victorious, angry, bored, he would inflict the most unspeakable torture on them. He would go way beyond the Cruciatus curse. I cannot possibly tell you exactly what he did; no one should ever be made to hear the full details. But what I will say is that those people often died horrendous, excruciating, bloody deaths.”

“Did he do the same to Muggle-borns…and half-bloods?”

“Only the ones that got in his way,” Snape carefully reassured with a motion of his hand. “However, he was known to harm close family of his true intended targets. It was dangerous for a witch or wizard to carry on relationships with Muggles and Muggle-borns. Those who did and were discovered often met the same fate themselves. You ought to appreciate your father for keeping his big mouth shut about you and your mother. You have no idea how close you came to death before you had begun to live.”

“I know,” said Rose. Evidently, she didn’t want to elaborate on that. “And he had no remorse for what he did?”

“None whatsoever. In his view, every Muggle killed was helping to purge the world of the undesirables. I will be blunt with you, Rose. He had hardly any human feeling at all, not even for his followers. His thoughts were centered completely on his power and what he could use it to achieve.”

“But what made you want to join him?” asked Rose. “If he was so evil, what made joining the Death Eaters so appealing?”

There it was, exactly the question that Severus did not want to answer. He really should have seen this coming. Rose was curious, and she had every right. And since he hadn’t discussed that with anyone besides Professor I-won’t-say-a-word Dumbledore, of course she would want to know for herself. Severus now regretted rejecting those interview requests over the summer. Hopefully Rose was as trustworthy as she made herself out to be and kept every last word to herself.

“It was about what he promised,” he explained. “Keep in mind that I was very young at the time, no older than you are now. After seven years of being publically harassed, I was looking for a way to rise above the rest of the world. The Dark Lord said that those who joined his ranks would be the most powerful wizards in the world. They would stand above all others in esteem and magical ability. As another Death Eater once put it, we would be like gods among mortals. Well, as you could imagine, given my school years and my less than pleasant experiences with Muggles, those ideas appealed to me quite a bit.”

“Did you feel that you got that when you were there?” said Rose, cocking her head slightly to the side.

“I did for the first five minutes. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that those promises were actually rather empty. If anyone was holding the power, it was the Dark Lord. Frankly, all the Death Eaters really got was favor and some level of protection, and even that wasn’t totally guaranteed. We were just as subjected to torture as anyone else was. It was frequently us that got the brunt of his anger when things didn’t go his way.”

“Did he torture you, Professor?”

“Yes,” said Severus after a moment or two. “I can’t tell you how many times I was cruciated in my first two years as a Death Eater. There were various other curses as well.” Under the table, the wizard rested his hand over his developing baby, trying with tremendous effort not to think of how it wouldn’t exist if not for Voldemort. The last thing he would ever allow himself to do was associate something so evil with his innocent child. He took a breath before continuing. “And you obviously know about last May.”

Thinking back on those terrible stories she heard from Harry and Hermione, Rose rubbed a hand over her neck without really realizing what she was doing. Shivers worked their way down her spine. She quickly tried to backtrack. “But he never rewarded you for your service? He didn’t give any of you something in return for the terrible things you did for him?”

“The closest I came to the power I desired was when I was made the headmaster last year. Other than that, it wasn’t much. We just had the satisfaction that we were part of a movement that supported our views. It was like any regime that rises up in the world; only those favored had the right to their freedom, as long as they lived accordingly.”

“Did you take part in those tortures?”

“Only on a few isolated occasions. Mostly I stood to the side and let others do the dirty work.” 

“Weren’t you ever guilty over what you did?”

Severus let out a short, soft sigh at that. “More than what I made myself out to be, and it was mostly after I realized the detrimental effects of my actions.” A sharp glare, a glare he hadn’t used on Rose in a long time, told the Gryffindor that he would not be discussing those particular details and that she shouldn’t bother in asking. “Contrary to what it may seem, I do regret the things I did and said in my youth, but it isn’t like I had much of a choice. Defecting from the Death Eaters really was one of the most dangerous things I have ever done, and I had to do everything that I could to maintain my cover. I did not want to see any harm to come to you and the rest of the students when I was headmaster, but I had to go along with it.”

He noticed that Rose was now gripping the sleeve that hid the burn marks on her arm, and Severus felt nothing but guilt for allowing her be hurt in that way. He remembered hearing those cries of pain through the castle, knowing that her screams had been among them. But there were hardly any words that could make up for what happened to her. Would she even want to hear it after being hexed and burned by that horrid Carrow sister? “I hope you can forgive my actions, or my lack thereof. I was pressed up against a wall, and I am so sorry for what happened to all of you as a consequence.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Rose. “You tried your best to protect us, that’s what Dumbledore said in the papers. I mean, you didn’t let the Carrows kill anybody. That’s a plus, I guess. And you’re absolutely right. You couldn’t do much else because you would have had to answer to You- know-wh… to Lord Voldemort. It would be selfish of me to be angry about that.”

“If I recall, Dumbledore said exactly that in one of his interviews,” said Severus, arching a brow at Rose.

“Well, he was right. He was right about a lot of things. I have to ask, did he always know that we would win in the end? Was there a time when he thought that Voldemort couldn’t be defeated?”

“If there was a time that man’s confidence was shaken, I don’t believe anyone would have heard about it. I actually couldn’t tell you that much about Dumbledore. He trusted me with quite a lot of information that no one else ever knew, not even your friend Potter.”

“Like how you faked his death,” said Rose, an odd tweak in her fair brow. “Forgive me Professor, but I’ve been wondering this for months. How the hell did you do that? Harry heard you cast the Killing Curse, how did that work?”

Severus shook his head, smirking at the animation in Rose’s tone. Apparently, that particular curiosity had been bubbling inside her, waiting for an opportunity to come bursting out. “Rose, I could never tell you exactly how we did it. For one, it involved complex magic that even someone of your age wouldn’t understand yet. And the other thing is that only Dumbledore and I knew what we were doing. He and I have both said before that it was crucial that the two of us be the only ones to know about it. But I will say this to you. One of the key things about the Unforgivable Curses is that you have to really mean it when you cast it. You have to be totally invested in causing unthinkable harm to another human being. If you cannot do that, as with any spell, you find that it doesn’t have the full potent effect.”

“The Killing Curse seems pretty final though, I’ve never heard of it not working…well, other than on Harry.”

“That’s where the rest of the magic comes into play. But like I said, if I were to explain the entire thing to you now, I would end up carrying you up to Madam Pomfrey, blabbering nonsense in your own confusion.”

“Of that I’m quite sure,” Rose admitted. She briefly returned to her work station to check on her simmering brew. “It makes sense though. I haven’t really used those curses, but I’m not sure if they would do me any good anyway.”

“It almost begs to be asked,” said Severus. “Have you even tried them?”

“I haven’t killed anyone if that’s what you’re trying to say.” Rose was quick to make that point clear, turning her gaze back to the Potions master. “But in terms of using those spells, I wouldn’t have had much choice. I was here during that battle. I had people firing off curses at me from every angle. I had to do something! I don’t know how much damage I did, but I kept myself alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m clear on this.” Severus rubbed his temple briefly. “Have you used an Unforgivable Curse or not?”

Rose was quiet for a brief moment before she said, “No, I haven’t. I wanted to during that battle – you have no idea how badly. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Even if you could, you would have just been doing what you could to survive.”

_‘Oh Merlin, that’s not even half the reason why,’_ Rose grimly thought to herself. But quickly purging her mind of those disparaging thoughts, she covered her cauldron and walked back over to lean on her beloved professor’s desk again. “I suppose so,” she said. “Now that I think of it, that entire year I was in survival mode. Everything my friends and I did was for the purpose of making it to the next day, the next minute.”

“You knew how dangerous coming back here would be,” said Severus, an assumption as opposed to a question.

“Yeah,” said Rose, her voice lowering to a soft, but still heavy tone. “I knew that Lord Voldemort would be taking over Hogwarts right along with the Ministry. I saw what his followers had created for our government, how innocent people were being imprisoned on trumped up charges. And whenever I heard of people disappearing, I had this gut feeling about what really happened to them. Muggles, Muggle-borns, half-bloods, there were no boundaries. Only the faithful pure-bloods were truly safe. And I knew that I would be walking right into that when I went back to school. I don’t know if it was premature of us, but my friends and I could sense that the war would eventually come back to Hogwarts.”

“And that frightened you.”

Rose had to take a deep breath as she recalled those feelings. “You have no idea. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Even my mother could see that. I didn’t have to tell her how bad things were getting in our world. She was actually a large part of my fears. I didn’t have just my safety to worry about.”

“What did you do about her?” asked Severus.

“I did the only thing I could do,” said Rose. “Since neither of us had heard from my father in over a year, I didn’t want to take any chances. He could have given her name up to the Death Eaters and then have them come looking for her. I told her that she had to leave Meadow Hill and get as far away from Britain as possible. I said that it was crucial that she leave the country and that she couldn’t come back until I said that it was safe. So she fled to France just after I left for Hogwarts.”

“It had to be difficult to do that.” It had to be said, Severus thought to himself. In that moment, the look in Rose’s eyes spoke louder than any words she could have said.

“As much as she drives me mad, I still love my mother. For most of my life, all we had was each other. I did not want to see anything happen to her for something that neither of us had anything to do with. I was just trying to keep her safe.”

“But that didn’t make it any less painful.”

Rose pressed her lips together to avoid an obvious tremble. She looked away from Snape, instead focusing on a point on the wall. “I don’t think it could be anything but painful when you’re walking away from home, knowing that you might have seen your mother for the last time.”

That’s when Severus’s heart clenched, especially when he saw that distinct glimmer in the corner of Rose’s eye. Here was another example of the casualties of war, families being split up. Even if it turned out to be only temporary, he knew too well that it could have been vastly different. And these women knew that just as well, if the look on Rose’s face was any indication. He could almost picture the scene; a mother and daughter saying their last goodbyes before parting ways on a country road. For a split second, he almost admired Charlotte Waverly’s courage, to let go of her child knowing of the chance that she might never come home.

“What did you do when you got to Hogwarts?” he asked.

“Everything I could to ensure my blood status,” said Rose after a deep sigh. “For the first time in my life, I totally abused my surname. Every time someone asked me if I could prove my Wizarding heritage, I gave up my father’s name like that.” She snapped her fingers to show her emphasis. “I suppose there was some form of procedure in that twisted Death Eater Ministry because they told me that they had to confirm that with my father. I don’t really know what happened after that because that was the last that I heard of it.”

“They likely wrote to him, asking for his confirmation that you were his daughter,” Snape told her. “If you didn’t get questioned by Ministry officials again, it is likely that he did do that. Although, he also probably lied about your mother’s identity was to keep the Death Eaters off his back.”

“Good to know,” Rose said, very cynically. “But then after that, it all became about protecting myself and those around me. We weren’t apart of Dumbledore’s Army, but we did what we could to help them out. We sometimes took the brunt of those curses if it spared a Muggle-born or one of the younger students. But we had to look out for ourselves as well. The four of us were a walking target being from all four houses…and some of us had it harder than others. But not once did we give up. We endured right to the bitter end of it all. I wasn’t going to run away that night when the Death Eaters attacked.”

“It was very brave of you to stay and fight. Every one of you showed tremendous courage knowing what you were up against.”

“Harry inspired me,” Rose told him in complete honesty. “He inspired us all to stand up and fight for our freedom. I hate to sound like I’m praising him, but it’s true. I thought that if I was going to die that night, I would die with a wand in my hand and a spell on my lips. You know Professor, you never can grasp the chaos of war until you’re right there in the middle of it all. Curses coming from every direction, people jumping out at you from around corners, dueling someone without even thinking about who you were fighting against. For all I know, I could have gone up against one of the Lestrange brothers somewhere along the way. You have no clue how glad I was that I never ran into Bellatrix Lestrange. That bitch would have slaughtered me!”

“Not without a struggle,” said Severus in an attempt to boost her confidence in that terribly morbid conversation.

“You would think, right?” Rose smiled for half a second before falling back into that somber air as she continued with her tale. “It’s a bit strange really. I almost lost complete track of who was around me. The only ones that mattered were me and my closest allies. It didn’t matter who the enemy was. But after I found out that my dad had been working for the Death Eaters, everything suddenly changed. I had no idea where he was when all of this was going on. My worst nightmare was that I could have crossed paths with my own father and never would have known it.”

“You didn’t.”

Rose was stopped right in her verbal tracks at Snape’s statement. Her gaze hardened slightly as she turned her head to face him straight. “You knew where my father was?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but I did find out in the weeks following the battle. You must have not been getting the _Prophet_ delivered at the time.”

“No, I wasn’t. I cancelled all my subscriptions before I left for school last year.” Rose paused to swallow hard. “Please tell me, Professor. I don’t care how shattering it is, I have to know what he was doing while I was fighting here.”

Severus also swallowed. There was no easy way to explain this to her, but she obviously didn’t want him worrying about that. She desperately wanted to get that weight of unknowing off her shoulders. He took a breath in before speaking again. “He was hiding…in Ireland.”

“In Ireland?” Rose almost couldn’t believe that her father hadn’t even been in the country at the height of the madness. “Where?”

“At his family’s estate,” said Snape. “It seems that the threat to his own safety was too great, especially if you were making no secret of your relation. So sometime around March, he fled Britain and went into deep hiding. He used a wide array of cloaking spells that practically hid him in plain sight. Not even high ranking Death Eaters could properly locate him. He stopped communicating with them, and he didn’t take any part in the battle here at Hogwarts. I don’t know how the Aurors managed to find him, but they found him all the same. They discovered him living in the cellars of his father’s home.”

Rose backed away from the head desk, looking away in stunned disbelief. She was also disturbingly silent; Severus couldn’t even hear her breathing. “He was hiding in his parents’ basement…he was so scared of Voldemort that he went crying to his parents. He didn’t even come out to fight, and I thought he was sympathetic to the cause.”

“I told you that there was a reason why he never rose in the ranks,” said Severus, regretfully.

“Oh yeah, he never became a Death Eater because he was a bloody coward!” Now Rose was angry. “How spineless could you get? He knew I was here, and yet he was thinking only of himself. I could have died, and it wouldn’t have mattered! Do you think that’s why I couldn’t use the Unforgivables, because he somehow instilled that weakness in me?”

“Certainly not,” Severus said rather forcefully. “You couldn’t use those curses because you had enough moral fiber not to. Unlike your father, you have a profound sense of right and wrong. And that held true at the one point in your life when no one would have given you a passing glance for using one of those spells.”

“You think so?” asked Rose.

“Yes,” said Severus. That’s right, he thought to himself. It wasn’t that Rose couldn’t use those curses, she wouldn’t! Not like Alistair, who couldn’t kill anybody even if he tried. She could get through a harrowing struggle without uttering those words and inflicting the most horrendous harm onto another person, no matter how much they deserved it. Although, Severus remembered as he started to get ahold of himself again, that might not have been the wisest of things when fighting against an army led by a madman like Lord Voldemort.

“Rose,” he said, a hitch of inquisitiveness in his voice. “You say that you were here through the entire battle, correct? How is it that you never encountered the Dark Lord for yourself? From what I have heard, a mass majority of our forces bore witness to that final duel with Potter.”

Rose shook her head, rather solemnly Severus noticed. “I wasn’t there in the Great hall when it all ended. I was…indisposed.” Severus was not entirely sure what she meant by that, but he still nodded his understanding. He approached his next question very carefully. “So you never saw him while he was alive?”

“No,” said Rose. “I did see his body though, very briefly, just as they took it away to dispose of it…it was one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen. It was hideous! How could a man deteriorate to the point where he literally becomes a monster?”

“Decades of dark magic that no living wizard has any business knowing. Just be glad that it was in death that you laid eyes on him. Everything about him was monstrous. That face, those hands…that voice.”

“Do you still hear his voice?” Rose asked very timidly. The Potions master snapped his head up at her, and Rose knew she must have hit a nerve. Feeling terrible, she tried to recover. “I know I do. Never in my life have I heard a voice so perfectly evil. I had nightmares for a long time.”

Severus’s breath hitched slightly before he looked into her blue eyes, taking comfort in her words. They had a shared experience, suffered the same distress. If it wasn’t just him, then he didn’t seem so weak after all. “I kept hearing his laughter in my sleep for those first few weeks. I would still hear it if I didn’t have other things to worry about. And yes, it was perfectly evil. His whole being was perfectly evil.”

Rose fell silent again, approaching Severus with an unnatural caution. But the look on her face was the strangest combination of war-veteran weariness and child-like innocence. She rested the palms of her hands on the surface of the aging wood, and looked up into deep, ebony eyes.  “Can I…can I see it?”

“See what?” Severus asked, just about holding his breath.

“Your scar…you know…where your mark used to be.”

Rather uncharacteristically, Severus froze at the question. No one, _no one_ had asked to see the scar on his arm where that offending mark had been. Not even Poppy had wanted to see it, one of the most respectful things the Mediwitch could have done for him. He deeply wondered why someone like Rose would ask it of him. Pondering brought the thought that it could be some strange form of closure, a way to know that the nightmare truly was over. Hell, that was what convinced him when he saw it for himself all those months before. For better or for worse, Severus slowly undid the buttons at his cuff, and then just as slowly rolled up the rough black fabric. He held his arm out for Rose to see.

The inflamed redness and the stabbing pain that came along with it had long since disappeared, leaving soft, deathly pale skin behind. The thin, jagged line stretched nearly the length of his wrist to his elbow. But other than this, no evidence of the ugly black tattoo existed.

Rose gazed down at the scar in amazement, knowing what she was looking at was remarkable. Snape had really been one of the Dark Lord’s most devoted followers. He put himself in tremendous danger in changing sides. He nearly made the ultimate sacrifice to save them all. And now he stood before her, showing her what remained of his heroic actions. A whole mess of emotions welled up inside her entire being; pride, admiration, and all the love in her heart. Not aware of herself, she reached out and gently touched the warm flesh of her teacher’s forearm.

Motionless, Severus felt that touch seep through every part of his body. Just when he thought that he couldn’t feel any more for this beautiful girl, she had to touch his bare arm, almost tenderly. He could feel the lump forming in his throat, the mist that was beginning to fog up his sight. It took everything he had to hold it together when Rose glanced up at him.

“Harry might be the Chosen One…but I think you’re the real hero of this war.”

Oh, could there have been a more heart-wrenching thing for her to say?!

Severus glanced over Rose’s shoulder and noticed the cauldron that was still bubbling on the front student desk. Though he never wanted her to let go of his arm, he told her that she had to bottle the potion before it burned. Rose, however reluctantly, agreed and left to finish her work. It would take a while for Severus to button up his sleeve again though. He needed to feel the last of Rose’s warmth until it faded away.

The witch and the wizard were both quiet for some time before that silence was broken by the familiar pop of Apparation. A House-elf shuffled across the floor, carrying a platter that held a goblet of milk and a fairly large slice of chocolate cream pie. Severus shook his head as it was placed before him; another little treat from Albus. He was beginning to feel spoiled, but perhaps many pregnant women felt that way. The elf disappeared and he reached for the fork. But before tucking in, he pulled out his wand and produced a second silver utensil.

“Here you are, Rose,” he said, attracting her attention. Rose turned around and stepped closer with a smirk.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“The headmaster seems quite intent on getting me to eat more these days, which I can’t really refuse.” Another swipe of Snape’s wand sliced the pie into two clean halves. “And it would be a bit cruel to eat pie in front of a sweets addict.” At hearing this, Rose’s eyes lit up and she took the fork from her professor. She pulled up a stool as she thanked him and tucked into her slice of pie.

Severus watched her in between bites, noting how much more relaxed she appeared now. “I hope I didn’t put you through too much tonight. I can guess that those months are not the easiest to think back on.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” said Rose, quickly licking some whipped cream from the corner of her lips. “I asked after all. I was actually more worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” said Severus. “No matter what others say, I am quite content with where I am now.”

“That’s good,” Rose nodded with a smile. “Besides, I think we both needed that. I couldn’t exactly go to a therapist like my mother wanted me to. I had to say something sometime.”

Severus agreed with a smirk, a nod, and a small mouthful of chocolate. Their conversation after that turned to much lighter topics of culture and politics, and the silence was banished by the sounds of quiet, subdued laughter. Severus took a lot of pleasure in his surroundings, with this lovely company. After all, this was most likely the closest he and Rose would ever come to a first date.


	40. The Look

Severus caught the snarl in his throat as he stalked down to the ground floor, headed for the staffroom. It seemed that Dumbledore had suddenly decided to call a meeting, but had neglected to inform the other teachers until that morning. Of course, Severus knew that the old codger had done this on purpose. Nothing wrong with keeping them on their toes! He didn’t mention what this meeting was about, just that it was something that they all needed to hear. Severus had been at Hogwarts for eighteen years; it was never a good sign when they got no prior information. That usually meant that he and the others likely wouldn’t have much say in the matter. It might have been easier to roll with that punch if Severus hadn’t already been in such a grouchy mood.

He discovered that morning that his robes were not fitting as well as they used to. The fabric of his frock coat was starting to feel a little tight around his stomach, and it had been marginally more difficult in fastening his trousers. Both were easily remedied by an Enlargement Charm on his clothing, but looking himself over in the mirror, he saw that the bump that was his unborn child was now definitely noticeable underneath those layers of clothing. Though Poppy had assured him that it wasn’t as bad as he thought, Severus begged to differ, and quite irritably at that. People were definitely going to start noticing now, given that he was practically skin and bones when he arrived at Hogwarts in September. In fact, he had gotten the most peculiar look from Lovegood that very morning. Everyone knew that she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, which meant that Lover-boy Longbottom probably noticed by now. And from there, it would spread through Gryffindor, and likely the other houses as well. He realized that most of them were likely to believe that he had simply gained weight with improving health, but that was as far as Severus was willing to let it go. He would have to start using the Notice-me-not Glamour Charm a lot sooner than he had originally thought.

Severus pushed open the staffroom door to see that he was one of the first to arrive, second only to Minerva. The deputy headmistress was seated at the table drumming her fingers on the hard wood surface. “Good day, Severus,” she said as the pregnant Potions professor sat down beside her. Her eyes seemed to immediately gravitate towards his middle. “How was your appointment with Poppy?”

Severus draped an arm over his torso to block that tell-tale bump. “Quite well,” he said tersely. “Nothing has changed.”

“Well, that’s lovely,” Minerva smiled in that strangely motherly way that only she could pull off. “And how is the little –,”

“Minerva,” Severus interrupted. “Given that the rest of the staff will come bumbling through that door any minute, I doubt that this is the time or the place to have this discussion.”

Minerva might have been offended if she didn’t already know Severus so well. The Potions master was obviously having a bit of a bad day, and he was doing his best to keep his testy emotions in check. And even without that, he did have a valid point there. It would take a great deal of explaining if someone like Hagrid or Cassandra were to walk in on her and Severus discussing a pregnancy. Oh, she could only imagine the reaction from that point of view! Why on earth would an elderly witch and a less-than-pleasant unmarried wizard be talking about bearing children?

Pomona and Filius strolled in together, followed shortly by Remus, who had Cassandra just behind him. The remaining Heads of House took places at the table with the other two, while the DADA and Muggle Studies teachers eased down onto the sofa by the fireplace.

“Minerva,” said Remus, turning around to look towards the table. “You wouldn’t by any chance know what this meeting is about, would you?”

“Believe me, Remus. If I knew, I would have warned you all about it.” Minerva shook her head as she said this, especially when she caught sight of the looks on Septima and Aurora’s faces as they walked in. “But you know Albus, he always likes to keep things spontaneous around here.”

“It wouldn’t kill him to give us a day’s notice,” Severus sneered.

“Oh, never you mind,” said Minerva, now trying to stay on top of Severus’s mood. The door creaked open again, this time to let in Hagrid, Rolanda, Sybil, and barrage of other staff members. With a slight lack in places to sit, they scattered across the room, some whipping out their wands to conjure up chairs while others found comfortable spots against the wall.

“I really hope this isn’t a meeting to pick out the weak links who could be dismissed if the budget gets any tighter,” Rolanda huffed, leaning on a particularly comfy spot in the stone by the window.

“Nonsense!” Pomona drawled. “Albus said that he won’t be sacrificing jobs any time soon.” Of course, that wasn’t much of a comfort to Severus across the table. Though the budget troubles were a pain in the arse for them all, they were manageable for now. But what happened if they got worse? Remus was already working on a higher salary, and the same could soon be said of him. Albus wouldn’t think about cutting something or someone in order to support them and their children, would he?

Once the last of the staff had been accounted for, including Filch and his furry little shadow, Albus finally strolled in with a lively spring in his step that was most unusual for a wizard of his advanced age. Unlike his teachers, he appeared to be in quite a good mood. “Good day everyone,” he said, speaking above them in that annoying, employer-style tone.

“This had better be important, Albus,” said Pomona. “I had to cancel meetings with three students to be here.”

“Yes, I had work to do as well,” Remus spoke up. “My Seventh years are going to be starting their Patronus lesson soon. Some of them have no experience and I want them to be as prepared as possible.”

“Don’t worry, this will be quick.” Albus planted his feet firmly in the center of the room where everyone could see him. “I have been thinking about this term.”

“You’re not sacking one of us, are you?” Cassandra asked out of the clear blue. The professors sitting around her all groaned; there were no secrets with this woman.

“I see that my teachers have been gossiping,” Albus said with a quirky smile. “No, no, nothing of the sort.”

“Have you at least gotten us out of that Ministry choke-hold?”

“No Rolanda, but I am working on it. But enough about that; I’m not here for financial debates. I have noticed how most of our students have been in very good spirits these past few months. The Seventh years in particular seem to be particularly pleased with themselves. They know how lucky they are to be here.”

“Of course they are,” Rolanda spoke up. “We all have noticed that as much as you have. But what does that have to do with us?”

“Yes Albus, what are you playing at?” asked Filius, and Albus looked around the room with that twinkling glance of his.

“What I am saying is that I feel that we should do something to make this year special for them, give them something to remember fondly when they look back on their last school days.”

Severus leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Something tells me that whatever this is, you have already made up your mind and require no further input on our part.”

“Well, yes and no, Severus,” said Albus. “Yes, I have already come up with a brilliant idea of what we could do. I see that look, Minerva – I have already worked out a way to pay for it. But the reason that I have asked you all here today is because all of you will play a part in bringing this idea about. I would like to see this happen before the Christmas holidays, so it would take quite a bit of man power.”

“Good grief, what is this brilliant idea then?”

Albus glanced over to the table and looked at Minerva with a knowing smile. “I think it is time to hark back to the good old days.”

**~HP~**

_Rosie,_

_Words cannot describe how proud I was to see you at that Quidditch match against Slytherin. You practically took my breath away while watching you up there, and I’m sure I could say the same for a lot of others. You’re beautiful, you’re charming, and you can play Quidditch! Could you get any better? I don’t think so! This is just a little something to applaud you for a job well done. A girl like you deserves some sparkle to go with the light in your eyes._

_All my affection_

Rose reread the letter for what could have been the one-hundredth time that day as she tried to keep an eye on her Yorkshire pudding at dinner. Every time she set her fork down on her plate, her hand would slip back into the pocket in her robe and she would feel an odd tingle inside. That little something that _All-my-affection_ had sent her turned out to be _two_ little somethings; a pair of the crystal drop earrings that she had admired from _Witch Weekly_ , and a chain-link bracelet of polished silver. A single heart-shaped charm hung from it, unmarked as though to leave room for an inscription. All were equally stunning, but all were also equally unsettling for Rose. She knew how expensive the earrings were, but she had no idea where the bracelet had come from. And this time, she just couldn’t bring herself to wear them. The bracelet had actually sat in her robe pocket all day long, with Rose sporadically reaching in to feel the cool touch of the delicate metal.

She appreciated what _All-my-affection_ was doing for her, that he cared for her as much as he did. But it was now getting to the point where she wished that it would all just stop. It had been weeks since the first letter, and Rose still had not the slightest idea who this guy really was. She didn’t know what he was thinking, believing that he could get the girl without actually telling her who he was. Would the gifts and the letters just keep coming until she left school? What would happen to him then? But even if there was a slight clue, the poor guy would likely end up with a broken heart. He would confess his full feelings for her only to find that her heart already belonged to someone else. As caring and generous as _All-my-affection_ was, he could not distract Rose from her love for Snape. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, but she couldn’t deny herself such deep emotions.

But ever the hopeless romantic, Lavender tried to assure Rose that this would all come together soon enough. If _All-my-affection_ was sending her jewelry, then he was obviously serious about her. And if he was serious about her, then he could be one step closer to showing his face. She could potentially be weeks away from a new romance; she just had to be patient. Lavender had no idea about Rose’s feelings for Snape, never knew Rose had previously been in love, and was unaware that Rose was not really interested in a relationship with someone else. But even with all that, there was something in her friend’s words that stuck with Rose. Lavender wanted to see her happy. So did Parvati, and so did Hermione. Were they right to say that she should not overlook this opportunity?

Everyone was around half-way through their meals when McGonagall tapped the side of her glass goblet, successfully getting their attention. The students looked up to the head table as Dumbledore rose to his feet and held up his hands to further silence them. “If I could have your attention for a moment’s time,” he said in raised voice. “I have an announcement to make.”

“What’s this about?” Ron mumbled to Harry. The Head Boy shrugged his shoulder with a very dubious expression. “No idea,” he said. Like he would know anyway! He turned back to listen to the headmaster, and his friends followed his example.

“I am pleased to inform you of a delightful proposal for this term. As part of our celebrations for this new term in this new age of peace, it was decided by myself and the staff that we should revive one of our old traditions. It was a tradition that was observed for many years here at Hogwarts, and it was an event that brought about a great deal of excitement among the students of the day. However, this event has not been held since 1978, when the first war against Lord Voldemort forced us to discontinue. But since such a threat no longer exists, I see no problem with getting back to business, so to speak. On the evening of December the first, for the first time in two decades, Hogwarts will be holding its traditional Seventh-year Ball. It is a formal occasion given to recognize the school’s oldest students, giving them the party that we feel they have earned through hard work and persistent study. In the past, this would have taken place during the spring term. But I thought to myself, what sense is there in waiting?” While that was mostly true, in reality it was also because Minerva, Severus, Pomona, Filius, and so on and so forth had raised hell about conflicting with their exams come the spring time. They all knew how teenagers’ minds worked. Please, they could remember how hard it was to concentrate on their studies with their own balls looming!

“On this evening, the Seventh years will dress in their best attire, and gather together for a night of dancing, opulence, and well-behaved merriment. But younger students need not despair. This ball always was, and will continue to be an annual tradition. You all will have your chance when you come of age. In the meantime, none of you will for any reason be shut out of this year’s ball. There will be no age limit for whomever our Seventh years choose to invite with them. Seventh years shall also note that you are not limited to the school population. You will be allowed to invite people from outside the school to come as your dates. They just have to be approved first, by either myself or Professor McGonagall. And extra credit will be offered to anyone who is willing to help the staff prepare for the ball. Any student who is interested may sign up with their Head of House.”

A low, muffled noise started to rise up into the air, rather indistinguishable if someone happened to walk into the Great hall at that exact moment. Several inquiring looks and hard listening from the head table soon revealed that it was the students, talking amongst themselves at their four respective tables. Dumbledore knew very well that he was about to lose their attention entirely. It was actually rather fortunate that they hung out long enough for him to get all of his information across. Now they needed time to process what they had just heard, vocally of course. So he thanked them for their time and sat back down to his meal.

The Seventh years were all a curious flutter. What was this, a fancy ball held especially for them? At first, they didn’t know what to make of such an idea. But once they all realized the potential for a grand, glamorous evening, punctuated by the freedom to have all out fun, they quickly got over themselves.

“We can invite anyone we want? Does that mean we can invite Muggles?”

“I don’t have anything nice to wear! I have to write Mummy tonight!”

“Most of us at this ball will be of age. Do you think that means there could be alcohol?”

“Wait a minute, are there any single Seventh years left?”

The chitter-chatter got louder and louder as the gossip and vanity increased. Girls were squealing about fancy fashions and jewels while the boys were looking around the hall at potential partners, all of them mostly ignoring the mutual grumpiness of the younger students. The first of December was still a few weeks away and already plans were unfolding.

In the midst of all of this, Hermione was the only one to notice how Rose kept repeatedly staring over her shoulder to the head table. Across the table from the ginger witch, Hermione leaned as close to the tabletop as possible in order to get a better look at her friend’s eye-line. She followed that intense gaze right up to the seat where Snape was seated beside McGonagall, rolling his eyes with a tight-lipped scowl.

Hermione could hardly help herself but to stare at the look on Rose’s face. Her eyes were soft, but filled with such warmth as she looked up at their Potions master. In fact there was almost a sparkle in amidst the bright blue color. The little smile that tugged at her lips was also quite interesting. It was as though she wanted to grin, but something was holding her back. The strangest thing was how Rose was only engaged in conversation for as long as they had her attention. If she was looking away from the rest of her housemates, they might as well have not been there. The only thing that could distract Rose from Snape was the mention of her name. Hermione knew that Rose no longer looked at Snape with contempt, but this was remarkable. It was almost tender the way she looked at him, the way someone would look upon a dear friend as opposed to sheer authority. And yet, that look was familiar. It might not have been Rose where Hermione had seen that lovely expression before, but she had definitely seen it before.

And then, like a bolt from the blue, a small flicker of remembrance tickled Hermione’s memory.

**~HP~**

“I’ll have to ask Mum to look through my closet at home,” said Rose, brushing her hair on the edge of her bed. Covers were already turned back on both beds, waiting for a warm body to crawl beneath them for the night. Hermione was seated across the room at their shared vanity, massaging some cream into her face. “I think I still have that dress I wore to my uncle’s wedding.”

“You mean the copper colored dress you wore to the Yule Ball?” Hermione asked with a smirk, thinking back to that night fourth year. That dress had singlehandedly convinced her that redheaded ladies could not pull off the copper look. “You wouldn’t want to wear the same dress twice, would you? You don’t have anything else at home?”

“Not likely, but I have to wear something to this ball.”

“Don’t we all?” Hermione smoothed out her face and screwed the cap back onto her jar. She then got up to walk over to her bed. “Say Rose, do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Not at all,” Rose answered as she set her brush down on her bedside table and dove under her sheets.

“What do you think of Professor Snape?”

Rose froze for about half a second, the fact that she was lying in bed making it less obvious. That was certainly an odd question for the hour, and completely unprovoked as well. But she had plenty of time to get ready for this. After all, it was only a matter of time before someone brought up her affiliation with the Potions professor. “Snape…well. He’s…a great wizard, he’s a good teacher, and he’s a terrific conversation when you catch him at the right time. I learn a lot from him, more than I did from Slughorn for sure.”

“Could you say that he’s a mentor to you?” asked Hermione, also climbing into bed.

“Actually yes,” Rose turned onto her side, propping her head up with her hand and facing her roommate. “He’s been more a mentor to me in the last few months than anyone else I’ve known. I mean, I love Professor Wicker and all, and may Professor Burbage rest in peace, but Muggle Studies is more about social interaction than about actual skill. When Snape gives me pointers for my brewing, I feel like I’m the apprentice to his master. And you know what? I feel incredibly lucky that he thinks I’m worthy enough.”

“You really like these remedial lessons of yours?” said Hermione with faded amazement.

“They’re not remedial lessons, and yes, I love them. I mean, how many people can say that they have firsthand experience with Professor Severus Snape? And how many Gryffindors can say that they share similar opinions with him? You know, Mione. That is so cool! I never thought I could have that much in common with him.”

“Do you think he’s a good man?”

Rose smiled to herself. “He’s a man of many flaws, I can’t deny that. But yes, I think he is. Not many guys would put everything on the line for the good of the world the way he did. I’ll tell you something. I’ve learned so much about Snape these past few weeks. I can’t give you the full details, but what I can say is that he’s a man of conviction, and he’s a man of morals – yes, he has morals. He knows decency and goodness, even if he doesn’t show it. You don’t find many Slytherin men like that.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Hermione asked with a smile of her own.

Rose fell back onto her pillows, pulling her blankets closer to her chest. She stared up at the canopy of her bed. She felt her body fill with warmth as she thought of her precious professor. She could see him at that very moment, curled up in front of the fire with a book in his lap and a glass of sherry in his hand. Again she smiled as she took in a long breath. “Yes…yes, I do.”

“What’s that look?”

Rose turned her head sharply to Hermione. The Head Girl had suddenly sat up in bed, an inquisitive arch in her brow. Rose blushed, not even realizing how pink her cheeks already were. “What look?”

“That look you’ve got on your face,” said Hermione, as bluntly as ever there were. “You had that same look earlier, when we were at dinner. You were looking at Snape. And I could have sworn that I saw you give him that same look the other night.”

“So?” Rose asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could.

“Rose, that’s the way Lavender looks at Justin.” And with that, Rose’s breath was almost nearly stolen away. She pushed herself up to sit, not looking at Hermione, and bent her knees to hug her legs. “I hardly noticed,” she said.

“Oh give me a break,” Hermione almost laughed. “That’s how Lavender looks at Justin, how Harry looks at Ginny, how Dean looks at Parvati – oh yeah, I know about that. You wouldn’t be looking at Snape like that unless…oh my god.”

“Hermione,” Rose tried to urge, but it was too late. Hermione sat up even further, almost like she intended to get out of bed. A white, toothy grin was plastered across her face as she pointed at her friend. “You like Professor Snape. You _really like_ him!”

Rose’s breath stilled, and her mouth opened slightly at the accusation. She didn’t really know what to think. Either Hermione really was the brightest of them all, or Rose was just a really bad actress. But in amongst her paranoid wonderings, the obvious came shining through. They were friends. They were best friends. And there were no secrets between best friends. “Bugger off,” said Rose, her cheeks flushing a deep fuchsia.

“How long has this been going on?” asked Hermione, flinging the sheets off of her legs. “How long have you had feelings for him?”

“A few weeks,” the ginger witch admitted. “I first realized it a little over a month ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I have a crush on Snape of all people? Really Hermione, why else would you think?”

“You still could have come and told me sooner.” Hermione got to her feet and crossed the floor to Rose’s bed. She sat down on the edge, and Rose propped herself up with her arms.

“You don’t think it’s strange?” she asked.

“Oh no, I think you’re mad,” said Hermione, a Ron-like bluntness briefly taking over. Rose rolled her eyes, holding back the huff of breath. “Gee, thanks Mione.”

“I’m sorry Rose, but I just don’t understand. Professor Snape, what do you see in him?”

“You don’t see it?” Rose shook her head, red hair falling around her shoulders. “Come on, Hermione. He’s not that unattractive. Actually, I think he’s handsome!”

Hermione shuddered. “I don’t know how.”

“Oh please,” Rose groaned with a near grin. “I’ve been checking him out since we were fifteen; he’s not as ugly as we’ve made him out to be. And look at him now. He’s got his health back, he’s obviously been showering more, and I noticed that he’s been putting a little weight back on. He looks great!”

“Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” The Head Girl shifted to face Rose directly. “What else is it about him that’s got you going like this? Tell the truth, it’s already out there.”

Rose shook her head. Hermione didn’t have to press her for answers because she wasn’t feeling like she was being hassled. Frankly, now that someone knew about her feelings for Snape, she wanted to get everything off her chest while she could. A few weeks was a long time to keep a secret like that all to yourself. “I wish I could tell you, Hermione, but it’s pretty hard to explain. You have to see the way he is when it’s just me and him down there. The Snape we know in class is not the Snape I know in the evenings. We have a lot of things in common, and he treats me with so much respect. Hermione, he’s a gentleman! What’s not to love about that? He’s attractive, he’s charming, and he listens to what I have to say. When I’m with him, I feel like I’m the only girl in the castle, maybe even the world.”

Rose had to look away and let out a small giggle in spite of herself and her company. Hermione smiled in return, resting a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Aww Rose, you could have told me sooner how you felt.”

“Like I said, Hermione, this is Snape we’re talking about. I couldn’t risk this getting out to the whole school. I don’t know what I’m more worried about; Snape getting wind of this or what the rest of our housemates would say. With our boys, I might be better off having a crush on Malfoy. Not even Lavender and Parvati know about this, and I don’t know if they will.”

“But that’s what I’m here for,” said Hermione. “Rose, I’m already keeping one deep, dark secret of yours. What makes you think that I can’t keep another?”

“Honestly, I was afraid of what you would say,” Rose replied. “When you told me to get out there and explore my options, I doubt that’s what you had in mind.”

Hermione giggled herself, shaking her head. “I can’t control who you’re attracted to. I’d be a fool if I thought I could. And you know, Rose. I won’t condemn your feelings for Snape. I mean, it’s harmless right?”

_‘For Snape, it is,’_ Rose thought to herself, knowing that this was not the time to tell Hermione of the emotional roller-coaster this fondness had taken her on. There was a huge difference between a fancy and genuine love. And Rose knew that this was already far more than any schoolgirl crush. But was Hermione ready to know that so soon? In response to the question, Rose nodded her head. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“Then I have no complaints,” Hermione finished. She patted Rose’s hand before rising to go back to bed, mumbling as she went. “I still think you’re mad though. I tell you Rose, if I could go back in time and tell our eleven year-old selves that we would be having this conversation, I would take a lot of pleasure in seeing the dumbfounded looks on our faces.”

“You promise that you won’t tell anyone about this, right? I don’t need anyone else telling me that I’m out of my mind, especially Ron and Harry. The way they talk about Snape, I doubt that they would take this very lightly.”

“You have my word,” said Hermione as she climbed back under her covers and Rose let herself fall back onto her pillows. “Rose, you’re my best friend. I would never betray your trust like that.”

“And don’t make it obvious that you know something,” Rose told her. “You know how Snape is privy to that sort of stuff. He can tell when someone is withholding information just by looking at them.”

“You know that’s because he’s a Legilimens, right?”

“Then don’t think about this when he’s around!” Rose threw her hands up into the air, prompting a laugh out of them both. But nonetheless, Hermione agreed to keep Rose’s feelings as deep a secret as possible. And with that last oath, the girls bid each other good night, and turned over in their beds.

It would be a long time before Rose actually fell asleep. But for what reason, she wasn’t entirely sure. It had to be one of only two things; that much she knew. Either it was the elaborate visions of herself and Snape that now danced around in her mind, or it was the feel of sheer nakedness now that she wasn’t the only one aware of her private passion.


	41. Fight for fashion

Severus intended to spend his Saturday working. With the surplus of potions that had to be made for various departments that week, much of his grading had to be left for when he had free time. And by a stroke of luck for the Potions master, it happened to be a Hogsmeade weekend. Severus could work in peace without the constant interruptions of students. After the last several days, all Severus needed was some peace and quiet.

In his view, bringing back the Seventh-year Ball was a terrible idea. It had been the source of great torment when he was seventeen, and he couldn’t imagine how it could possibly be worse. Clearly, he did not anticipate being on the other side of the coin as an adult. Not only did it double his workload by forcing him into some elements of the planning, but it now dominated the minds of those attending. A majority of the Seventh years were eighteen years old, and yet they were acting like they never left primary school. If the boys didn’t already have a girl attached to their hip, they were desperately looking for one. And every last young lady could be found with a copy of _Witch Weekly_ in their possession. Severus could already tell that the next few weeks of wrangling inattentive teenagers were not going to be fun.

He was knee-deep in a stack of Fourth year exam papers when there was a knock at his office door. Merlin, it wasn’t even midday yet! Those little brats couldn’t stay away from that door for one day. And it wasn’t like he was expecting anyone in particular. Both Rose and Draco had things to attend to in the village, or so he heard. A little aggravated, he turned his head to the door.

“It’s open!” he called out. The door creaked open and Minerva entered, closely followed by Remus. Both were dressed in their heavier, warmer outer robes, as though they were just about to head out somewhere. Severus looked up only briefly before turning his attention back to the as-of-yet failing exam in his hand.

“What do you two want?” he asked, his quill scratching away.

“How are you feeling this morning, Severus?” asked Minerva, approaching his desk.

“Quite well, Minerva.”

“I see you don’t have Beckett with you today,” Remus commented. He crossed the room and pretended to be interested in the contents of Severus’s potions cabinet. Severus eyed him from his seat, stonewalling at the mention of Rose’s name. “Yes, it seems even she has better things to do. If you’ve come looking for her, I don’t know where she is. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Oh no, Severus,” Minerva said as she sat down in one of the dark wingchairs. “Remus and I were just about to go down into Hogsmeade, and we were wondering if you would like to join us.”

“I’m quite busy if you couldn’t tell,” said Severus, motioning to the piles of parchment. “Besides, what would I need in Hogsmeade?”

“Well, you know how Albus decided that staff attendance for the Seventh-year Ball is mandatory.”

“Yes?” Severus said, suppressing the groan. He had a couple of weeks until that infernal ball, and he didn’t want to think about it until then. He noticed Remus take a step forward with his hands in his pockets. “Minerva and I thought that you could use some new dress robes for the occasion.”

The Potions master’s cold black eyes slowly traveled back up with a venomous glare. “What are you implying, Lupin?”

“Nothing,” said Remus, shrugging his shoulders. “Just a suggestion, that’s all. Severus, you’ve been wearing the same robes for years. And when was the last time you wore dress robes, Lucius Malfoy’s wedding?”

“That’s none of your business.” Severus went back to his grading.

“Don’t be so cross with him, Severus,” said Minerva. “It was my idea. I simply thought that you should look nice for a change. The students will be formally dressed, we should be as well. Besides –,”

“Besides what?” Severus asked very sternly. To say that he was suspicious now would be polite. He wanted to know exactly what bush his elderly matron of a colleague was beating around. Minerva took in a breath and straightened her back before speaking again.

“I think you ought to have some dress robes that fit properly.”

The quill suddenly stopped mid-mark. Severus glared up at his two colleagues, although he managed to keep relative control over his vocal tone. “I don’t need new robes.”

In spite of the younger wizard’s detest for the suggestion, Minerva giggled. “Come now, Severus.” She stood up and came around his desk. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t gained much weight. We’ve seen that baby bump of yours.” Though Minerva said this playfully, Severus took immediate offense. Pushing aside the rolls of parchment, he stood up from his desk and strode to the other side of the room. He grabbed the length of his robes and wrapped them around his torso.

“You can’t ignore it forever, Severus,” said Remus.

“Then let me ignore it for as long as I can,” Severus bit back, keeping his back turned to the werewolf.

“Alright, but I don’t think you would have very long. Believe me, Severus. The weight gain happens quickly, and you’ve already filled out considerably. I’m surprised I haven’t heard the students gossiping. But then again if they were, I would tell them that it’s because your health has improved.” Conveniently, Remus forgot to mention that he had already done exactly that with a group of inquisitive Fifth years.

Severus snarled silently, gritting his teeth. “Thank you for your consideration, Remus. Now drop it.”

“You should still think about coming into town with us. You need something to wear to that ball, and you’ll still be growing when that night rolls around.”

“Lupin, shut up,” Severus growled. Across the room, Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Severus, I had no idea that you were so self-conscious.”

“You would be too if you were in my place.”

Remus tried to reassure the touchy wizard in any way he could. But in a severe lapse of judgment, he said what many would denounce to be not the wisest of words. “But pregnancy is such a beautiful thing.”

“Shut up!” Severus shouted, slamming a clenched fist against the wall.

“Remus, maybe you should step out for a moment. Let me have a moment alone with him.” Minerva opened the door again and pointed out into the threshold. Reluctantly, Remus turned to go, but not before offering up an apology that Severus may or may not have accepted. Once he was gone, Minerva shut herself in with the Potions master, turning to face him. Severus was now pacing, his breath shallow and a pained look on his face. “Severus?”

“Why does he have to make a fuss out of this?” Severus asked, his voice suddenly cracking with shame and embarrassment.

“Well, he is right,” said Minerva “In many people’s opinions, being pregnant can be a beautiful and natural thing.”

“Yes, if you’re a woman!” Severus whirled around to face the elderly witch.

“Well Severus, I can’t speak for myself as I don’t have any children. But I do know dozens of people that do, and they would all agree with Remus and I.”

Severus growled. “Don’t make me sick!” He crossed over to one of his wingchairs and fell down into its seat. He rested his hand on his swelling stomach. Oh yes, he thought. Those same people who would gush over expectant ladies would probably shudder with revulsion when faced with his mutilated body. The students would think him more a monster than they already did. And Severus thought with absolute horror of what Rose would think. Had she already noticed that he was gaining weight? Would she think down on him because of it? Oh no, that thought was too painful to take right now. He couldn’t lose her favor when he worked so hard to gain it. Severus leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand, pressing his eyes closed against any offending mist that might form.

“What’s wrong, Severus?” asked Minerva, sitting down in the chair directly opposite. “Why does the idea of your pregnancy showing make you upset?”

“Because it’s bloody unnatural, that’s why?” said Severus, swiping a hand through the air. “Why else would it be upsetting? I kept telling myself that it wasn’t that noticeable, but I was wrong. Then I told myself that no one else would notice, and apparently I was wrong about that too! Those kids are not as stupid as they look, Minerva. How long before one of them cracks a pregnancy joke that no one seems to forget?”

“It’s alright, Severus,” Minerva comforted with a gentle hand and tone. “Pomona, Filius, Remus and I have been doing everything we can to keep the children from joking about you. What Remus said before is exactly what we all say when we speak on your behalf; that your health has greatly improved and your appearance reflects that. Even the teachers who are not aware of your pregnancy have been sticking up for you. You should see how quick Cassandra is to speak up.”

“That’s shocking to you?” Severus wondered out loud. Frankly, he was starting to think that the Muggle specialist had been starved for attention when she was a child, relieved only by incessant talking. Minerva shook her head at the dark-haired wizard and offered him a reassuring smile.

“I understand if it’s a bit overwhelming for you, dear. But that doesn’t mean that you should deny what is happening to your body. Yes, your stomach is growing, but that means that your baby is too. You want what is best for the baby, don’t you?”

“I do,” said Severus, nodding.

“Then just accept that you must grow right along with your child. I know it’s not the most pleasant of experiences, but it’s only for six more months. You will get used to it, mark my words.”

“I just don’t want anyone to look at me differently,” Severus reluctantly admitted. He didn’t want to be treated like he was as delicate as his condition. And above all else, he didn’t want his beloved Rosie to look at him any differently. In her eyes, he was a strong, capable hero. She couldn’t see him for what he really was; an abnormally pregnant man whose limitations would grow right along with his stomach.

Minerva shook her head sympathetically. “We might fuss over you, dear, but that’s because we can’t really help ourselves. We’re all excited about the idea of having a baby in the castle.” She got to her feet and crossed over to where Severus sat. “Just give it some more time, you won’t mind the bump so much after a while. But if you feel that you have to start using Glamour Charms, I don’t have any objections as long as Poppy doesn’t.”

“Well, she says I can start using them whenever I feel I need them, and I am starting to feel that need.”

“If you say so,” said Minerva. “Although I think you can wait just one more day. You would want your new dress robes to fit more comfortably around your abdomen. Don’t give me that look, Severus. You have been cooped up in this castle for too long. You need to get out and get some fresh air for a change.”

“Need I remind you of the events that led to my condition? Albus is fairly convinced that whoever attacked me could still be out there.”

“With Remus and I nearby, you will be as safe as they come. A walk into Hogsmeade never hurt anyone. It will be good for the baby as well.” Minerva leaned over and gently patted Severus’s bulging middle.

Severus realized that there would be no giving up in this little battle. When Minerva set her mind to something, it was hard to get her to back down. She and Remus wouldn’t be satisfied until he went with them. But he knew how many students would be in Hogsmeade that day. Did he really want to thrust himself in amongst that teenaged, party-crazed madness? But then he had a thought that suddenly gave Minerva’s suggestion a whole new significance. New dress robes could potentially catch Rose’s beautiful eye on the night of the festivities. Perhaps for one night, she could see him in a new attractive light. Driven by passion and desire, Severus eased up out of his chair and crossed his office to a closet where a set of outer robes were hanging up.

“Just as a fair warning to you and Remus, Minerva, I am going with you only to purchase clothing. There will be no talking me into looking at baby clothes or anything else. I will look into that when I am good and ready.”

“All in good time,” said Minerva as she watched him dress. She still gazed at his abdomen with a knowing smile. Severus noticed this out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

“Have you felt it move yet?”

Severus paused for a brief moment, caught a little off guard. Slipping a hand inside the folds of black wool, he touched his stomach and turned his attention inward, as though to try and feel the presence that he knew was deep inside. But as for the answer to Minerva’s question, she would get the same answer that Poppy got at his last checkup. “No…I haven’t.”

**~HP~**

The residents of Hogsmeade were starting to think that they had an invasion on their hands. The streets were swarming with students of all ages, hustling between all the different shops, making quite a lot of excited noise. Even the older ones seem to be having trouble containing themselves, if only slightly. But fortunately for the locals, this day’s crowd was only due to one thing, and the madness was blessedly temporary.

A few days prior, a message was sent up to Hogwarts castle from Gladrag’s Wizardwear. Having heard of the upcoming Seventh-year Ball, the robe shop had received a special order of dress robes and gowns, and would be selling them to the students attending at bargain prices. Naturally, this caused many a seventeen to eighteen year-old’s mind to flip. Kids were heading into town to buy their attire, not thinking twice. Some even forgot that they already had clothes being mailed to them from home. But when faced with this season’s dazzling new designs, it was easy to forget something as mundane as an old bridesmaid’s dress or an older brother’s barely-used waistcoat.

Hermione and Rose were among the students whose shopping instincts had suddenly kicked in. It seemed that they both had decided that they wanted new dresses after corresponding back and forth with their families, and they withdrew some money from their personal Gringotts vaults. They now eagerly marched through the village, handbags and change purses at the ready. Like many of the girls in their year, they both had been uncharacteristically peppy that morning, much to Harry and Ron’s chagrin. They were following behind with a slow pace and expressions that suggested that they were walking to their executions.

“I don’t know why you two are being so ornery,” Hermione shouted over her shoulder. “Ron, your mother is letting you buy new robes. You should be jumping for joy.”

“I would be if my robes weren’t being picked out by you two.” The girls ignored Ron’s attempt to hassle them because that was completely untrue. Hermione would be the one critiquing Ron’s choices; Rose had nothing to do with it.

They were passing by _Dervish and Banges_ when Parvati came running up to them, calling out Rose’s name. She skidded to a halt in front of the ginger witch, a huge grin stretching across her face. “Dean asked me to the ball!” she squealed, unable to contain herself. Black hair fell around her shoulder as she bounced in place. “He took me to Madam Puddifoot’s and he asked me over tea! And I said yes!!”

Rose was grinning and bouncing right along with the Patil sister. Truthfully, she knew this was coming. Dean had been shaping his plan of attack since the night that Dumbledore announced the ball. But she couldn’t bear to tell Parvati that, seeing how thrilled she was. So Rose just took the moment to relish in her friend’s delight. That was the last of her close friends to be set up with a date, and likely the beginning of Gryffindor’s newest couple. Rose was now the last single girl of her year in Gryffindor.

Parvati didn’t stay to talk for very long. She explained that she had to meet her sister at the edge of the village, and she was off like a shot, the red and gold of her scarf blowing in the cold November winds. Rose adjusted the fit over her own scarf over the collar of her grey wool coat, and continued walking.

“I guess I’m the last one standing now,” she said to Hermione as the Head Girl picked up pace to catch up with her.

“Well, we all knew that was going to happen sometime,” Hermione stated with a smirk. “But why do you have to look at it like that? Just because you don’t have a boyfriend doesn’t mean that you won’t have a date. There are a bunch of guys who could still ask you. Why not go with Seamus?”

“Oh God, no,” Rose almost laughed. “He parties too hard; I can’t keep up with him. He’s not my type anyway, and I’m not his. Have you seen him the last few days? He checks out every girl older than fifteen. He’s almost putting Zabini to shame.”

“I guess that means you’ll be turning down his invitation if it comes,” Harry said from behind. Rose looked back and nodded with a sneer. “Like Mister Most-likely-to-date-rape thinks I’m that easy.”

“How about Ernie Macmillan?” Ron jokingly suggested. “Feel like giving him a second chance?”

“I don’t think I’ll be hearing from him any time soon. Besides, I heard Macmillan’s already got someone. By the way, Harry. Did you hear back from Ginny yet?”

“She wrote back in less than a day, and she was the first one Dumbledore approved. We’re all set.” Rose saw the eagerness in Harry’s grin, and she smiled at that.

“Well, don’t give up yet,” said Hermione. She reassured Rose even if Rose didn’t actually need it. “You’ll find someone to go with.”

“Sure, maybe _All-my-affection_ will get up some courage and ask you out already.”

Rose looked back at Ron, and laughed off his little cheek. By this point, _All-my-affection_ was the running gag of the male population of the highest levels of Gryffindor tower (they safely concluded amongst themselves that it definitely wasn’t any of them), and for the girls, it was like some twisted fairytale. With the approaching festivities, everyone thought it was a good chance for lover boy to show his face. But Rose didn’t know where she stood on that. She already had her sights set on Snape. She was already in love with another man and wanted nothing to do with anyone else. But at the same time, she couldn’t touch Snape. It might be better if she opened her eyes a little more to the guys around her, opened her mind to some different possibilities. Maybe there was a chance hidden in those letters and gifts, a chance that she might have to take soon. Rose sighed a nervous breath as she touched the crystal earrings that hung on either side of her head.

Hermione noticed this subtle gesture as they arrived at Gladrags’s, and Harry held the door open for them.

The shop was surprisingly open, probably because they had decided to go shopping around lunchtime, when everyone else was at Puddifoot’s or The Three Broomsticks. There were some groups of other students who had the same idea, but there was sufficient room to walk around without bumping into anyone. They noticed the bunched up group of green and silver on the other side of the shop, looking at a variety of men’s dress robes. But quite sensibly, all four of the Gryffindors chose to ignore them. They had better things to do than get into a dispute with Malfoy and Parkinson and end up getting thrown out of the building.

The racks were filled with robes and gowns of all styles, fabrics, and colors. Some were tailor-made in England and Scotland, others were brought in from France. And they all had Rose and Hermione practically frothing at the mouth. Harry and Ron thought it was best to leave the girls to do what girls did best. They headed to the back to have their measurements taken.

For the next forty minutes, Rose and Hermione went back and forth across the Ladies section, looking at every dress that they could get their hands on. They admired the fine French fashions, they held gowns up to see how they looked against their complexions, and they bickered about what colors a redhead should avoid. They were having the most fun they had ever had together, if their incessant giggling was any indication to everyone around them. Harry watched them from where he stood, arms wide open for the tailor’s tape, and he smiled. He cared so much for those girls; they deserved to have a good time.

Their hard searching finally produced something when they found a soft, long, strapless dress in light periwinkle. It only took a glance or two for them to see that it would be perfect for Hermione. In Rose’s words, that dress was practically made for her! Hermione happily agreed, although she did make sure to grab a matching shall for her to wear with it. She wasn’t totally used to going strapless, and she wanted to make sure that she would be somewhat covered up for part of the night.

But that still left Rose. Satisfied with their choices for Hermione, they turned back to racks as Harry and Ron were led out by the tailor to look at fitting robes. But it seemed like either one of them now found some sort of flaw in anything they picked. Hermione would pick a dress, and Rose would point out the high slit up the side. Rose would pick a dress, and Hermione would mention that orange did not go with red hair. The neckline was too low, green was too obvious, the belt was ugly, chocolate brown tended to enhance freckles, and so on and so forth! At some point, Rose got so anxious that she was ready to take one step to her left and march right out into the streets. But just when she was about to step out in frustration, she looked up to the back of the store.

Hanging on a far rack was a floor-length dress in dark navy blue. It had an A-line waist with a halter top, and the bust-line was enhanced by some pleating. The neckline dipped a little low, but it looked that anything tantalizing would be sufficiently covered up. At the center of the bust, where the straps met the bodice, there was a silver brooch covered with crystals. And the hem hanging just above the floor bore a small, but intricate vine detail in silver thread. It was a simple gown compared to some of the others on the racks, but it was that simplicity that spoke most to Rose. It wasn’t too gaudy, and it wasn’t too modern. It was classic! And to her, that made it perfect.

She was about to move when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Pansy Parkinson looking in the same direction. Rose followed the Slytherin’s eye-line right over to that very same rack, and she immediately felt a burn in her stomach. _‘Oh, fuck no,’_ she thought to herself. That evil little bitch could not be looking at the same dress! She felt the tension lessen slightly when Parkinson looked away to comment on a set of robes that Zabini was holding, but Rose was not going to let this one go so easily. She had to get to that dress before anyone else could see. But she didn’t want to make it so obvious to everyone else.

Rose turned back to the racks behind her, pretending to still be admiring the other dresses that Hermione was still rummaging through. However, as she went from rack to rack, she would travel a few steps in the right direction. Letting her mother’s paranoia get the best of her, Rose nonchalantly glanced over her shoulder and was horrified by what she saw. Parkinson had traveled the same distance on her side of the shop, seemingly fussing over some pocket squares for her brutes for boys. But Rose kept on with her stealthy plan of attack and went back to rummaging. She was pretending to find a short, yellow dress very interesting when she glanced over again. Parkinson had moved again! And this time, Rose noticed those cold, dark eyes discretely looking back at her. Rose started moving again, and so did Pansy, now looking directly at each other. And suddenly Rose realized what was going on; she had just gotten herself into a game of bloody chicken!

Now Rose was moving, quickly too. She was walking as fast as she could. A panicked look; she saw Pansy moving just as fast. And before Rose knew it, she was running. And as her luck would always have it, so was Pansy. Friends on both sides were making quite a bit of noise, which turned out to be more cheering than anything else. Other students and shop employees were also voicing their shock and surprise. But those calls and roars of sportsmanship spurred the girls on like a whip. And they both knew that this would have to come to a head, and rather shortly too. Two girls, and one gown. One of them would have to come out victorious, no matter what they had to do.

Their bottled-up rivalry acted like rocket fuel as both Rose and Pansy lunged for that pretty blue dress.

**~HP~**

A light snow had begun to fall as Severus and Minerva walked through Hogsmeade. At Minerva’s request, Remus was walking some feet away from his colleagues, surveying their surroundings from a distance. Madam Rosmerta wasn’t kidding when she said the town was mad that day, and the werewolf wanted to be definitely sure of Severus’s security in the crowds.

They ended up visiting more shops than originally intended. It seemed that the position of professor came with a strange inclination to buy on impulse, which was easy to do in a place like Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. But if the ruckus coming from Gladrag’s was any indication, it was a very good idea to wait until the commotion died down. If Severus hadn’t been pregnant, they would have chosen to wait it out in The Three Broomsticks. But knowing themselves and Madam Rosmerta, Minerva and Remus would have had one drink by the time they left. It really wouldn’t have been fair to consume alcohol in the Potions master’s presence.

They had finally decided to brave the robe shop and were walking up the path when they ran into Gryffindor’s proud quartet. Rose and her friend Granger were laughing so much that Severus wondered if they had been drugged with a dose of Felix Felicis. Potter and Weasley meanwhile appeared as though they had just been entertained in the haughtiest way. All four of them carried garment bags bearing the Gladrag’s Wizardwear crest.

Rose looked up as she and Hermione passed by the two teachers, and her blue eyes gravitated instantly to Severus. Her face lit up in the most charming way. “Good day Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall.”

“Good day ladies,” said Minerva. “I see you were both successful.”

“Very much so,” Rose replied, glancing at her new purchase and smiling along with Hermione. She quickly looked back to Severus. “Oh, by the way Professor. Just to warn you, Pansy Parkinson is going to come to you later and tell you that I kicked her butt. I want to set the record straight now; I never tried to hit her, and nobody got hurt. It was just a little scrap.”

“Over what, I wonder,” Severus said with a sarcastic arch in his brow. He jerked his head slightly to shake the snow from his hair. Rose blushed, the cold air working to her advantage. “A dress we both saw in the shop,” she admitted, not even considering a lie.

McGonagall caught the snicker in her throat while Snape shook his head with a smirk. “And who instigated that one?”

“The winner!” Rose boasted with a proud grin. She swung her garment bag over her shoulder, carrying her dazzling new dress with triumphant glee.

Severus completely trusted Rose, and he was glad to see her in such a spectacular mood. But letting her go without so much as a question would look terribly suspicious to Minerva. He needed more than Rose’s word alone, and so he turned to her three friends. Briefly looking over the three careful faces, he went right for the easiest target. “Is this true, Potter?” he asked, lacing a sinister tone into his voice. Potter briefly looked freaked; he knew how easily his mind could be penetrated and his lies revealed, thus causing him more trouble. “Was this as innocuous as Miss Beckett describes it?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but paused for a second. Obviously, Snape remembered how terrible he was at Occlumency. He knew he would never be able to get away with covering for Rose, and she had already admitted to the alleged wrongdoing. Snape didn’t seem to be in that foul a mood today, how much trouble could she get in if he told the truth? “Well, there was a lot of pushing and shoving, and they did roll around on the floor for a second or two. But no one was hurt, and they didn’t get thrown out of the shop. The shopkeeper actually said this happens every time there’s a bargain sale.”

Satisfied, Severus looked at Minerva. The deputy headmistress nodded, showing her acceptance of the explanation. He then turned back to Rose. “Five points from Gryffindor for your sheer immaturity, Beckett. Now all of you, go on with your business.”

Rose shot him a last smile before turning back down the street. Her friends had stepped in front of her, leading the way when Rose heard Snape abruptly call her name. Curious, she turned around as the Potions master motioned for her to come closer, and she did quite trustingly. Snape reached into his robe pocket and held something out to her. Rose opened her hand to accept the small handful of silver sickles. Snape leaned in closer to her face and dropped his voice down so that only Rose and McGonagall could hear.

“Make yourself useful and go buy some bars of chocolate. Bring them by my office tonight after supper. You spend my money on anything else, and it will be a full day’s detention.”

The Gryffindor couldn’t stop the reluctant smile. How could she? The object of her affections was mere centimeters from her face! But she agreed to do her professor this small favor, and bid him goodbye with a twinkle in her eye, and a spring in her step.

“She is certainly in a merry mood today, isn’t she?” Minerva commented, watching Rose rush down the path to catch up with her friends.

“Why wouldn’t she?” said Severus. “She won a fight against Parkinson, and she got a new dress out of it. She must be terribly pleased with herself.”

“I’m actually surprised that you let her go that easily,” Remus said as he walked up to them from across the street. “What, do you have some sort of new criteria for punishing those girls? Ten house points per visible bruise? Have you really broken them up that many times, Severus?”

“More times than necessary, and frankly, I’m fed up with it. If Beckett and Parkinson won’t stop clashing now, I don’t think they ever will.”

Remus glanced back in the direction Rose had dashed off. “I’m almost curious as to what that dress looks like. If Beckett had to fight for it, it must be stunning.”

_‘Of that, I have no doubt,’_ Severus thought. _‘She looks wonderful no matter what she’s wearing.’_

“Yes Remus, I’m sure Beckett and Granger will look lovely, right along with the other girls.” Minerva smiled in that surrogate mother sort of way, and Severus just resisted the urge to nod his agreement. He was lucky that Parkinson had exited Gladrag’s at that exact moment, also carrying a garment bag, hand in hand with Draco. Severus shot a sharp glare at them, alerting them that he already knew what happened, and that they had best watch their step. He made sure to keep an ear open to his colleagues.

“It won’t be long before a young man snatches her up for that ball.”

Severus’s peaceful thoughts came to a screeching halt. With all the fuss and madness that this stupid ball had produced, the Potions master had largely tried to ignore exactly what was going on between his students. But in doing so, he had overlooked one crucial bit of information. Every one of the Seventh years were on the hunt for a date. It was a desperate search in his youth, and the same stood true now. That meant that Rose would be fraternizing with other men…younger men…desirable men. Severus could feel the burning sensation deep in his stomach.

“Beckett doesn’t have a date yet?” he asked, hoping that the answer really was no as assumed.

“No, I don’t believe she does,” said Minerva. “I’ve been hearing a great deal of talk coming out of Gryffindor tower, but I haven’t heard too much about Beckett. According to Cassandra, the general assumption is that she’s mulling her options.”

“You know, Minerva,” Severus began, a little hesitant. “Not that I pay much attention to my students’ romantic ventures, but Beckett doesn’t seemed to have had much luck with young men her age.”

“Not as much as some of her classmates,” Minerva nodded, head tilting in dubiousness. “Although, I don’t necessarily see that as a bad thing. I like to believe that it is because Beckett is careful in those particular choices. She doesn’t go on dates with just any young lad, and she doesn’t strike me as the young and desperate sort, unlike the two of you twenty-one years ago.” The witch tittered at the memory of a seventeen year-old Severus and Remus, asking just about any girl they knew to be free to their ball.

Severus wasn’t amused by that reminder, but he was more focused on the dilemma at hand. Rose did have a good head on her shoulders, and she certainly wasn’t as frantic as many of her classmates. But how was he to know about the desperateness of her particular situation? Would she say yes to anyone who asked her? Would she think to pursue anything meaningful after the ball had come and gone? Severus knew nothing of Rose’s romantic past, if one even existed. Had she experienced heartbreak somewhere along the way? Merlin, he didn’t even know if she had actually been in a committed relationship! And if so, what did that mean for her now? Was she looking for love, unbeknownst to him? Severus felt sick thinking about the possibilities. His precious Rosie letting some prat run his hands run all over her.

Remus rolled his eyes, sighing. “Nah, Beckett’s a bright girl. She wouldn’t yes if she didn’t like the guy. Not that she’ll have much trouble, though. A girl that charming will have a lot of options.”

_‘You have no fucking idea,’_ Severus thought, rather irritably. As he and Minerva opened the door to the robe shop and went inside, Severus was hoping and praying that Remus right. He prayed that Rose really was picky in her taste for men, and he really hoped that Rose would be otherwise occupied in case she wasn’t. Perhaps the thought of _All-my-affection_ riding in to save the day would be enough to keep her at bay for those days before the ball.


	42. Love long lost

Sitting on top of her favorite potions table, Rose peeled away the wrappings from her dessert cauldron cakes as she pulled her legs up into a comfortable cross. Though she had originally intended to leave the dungeons after dropping off the candy bars she had purchased for Snape, as there was no chore or assignment for her to work on that night, Snape offered his time to just sit and talk with her, without the distraction of potions or papers. At first, Rose was surprised. She had the thought that Snape would have grown weary of her by now, and was offering him the chance to have an evening to himself. But her desire to be near the Potions master overrode that willpower. So she set herself to an evening across from Snape, who was now sitting comfortably at his desk.

Truthfully, Severus needed Rose’s company after the stress of the day. He didn’t know what was worse; the stacks of too many terrible student papers, or the humiliation of being re-measured for robes. It turned out that he had only grown an inch and a half, maybe two inches around his middle, but it didn’t do much to ease Severus’s anxieties. But it could have been a lot worse. The witch taking his measurements could have been the nosey type.  And just when he thought the worst was over, who should stroll in out of nowhere but Cassandra, giving Minerva some backup in the madness. But that was what Remus was there for. Cassandra always seemed to get distracted whenever he was around. It was apparent to Severus that she fancied the DADA professor, although he might have been the only one who knew it at that point. He certainly wasn’t going to bring it up with Rose. Given that Cassandra was her favorite professor, that was a new level of awkward that he didn’t really want to go to.

Their conversation turned to the Seventh-year Ball. It seemed that over the thundering white noise of her classmates, Severus had not heard Rose’s take on the festivities. Not that he needed to ask, citing his encounter with her and Hermione earlier that day. He actually went so far as to compare their post-scrap giggles to a hyena’s laugh, and Rose blushed at the idea. This was all Lavender’s fault; her giddiness was too contagious sometimes. But still, Rose gladly told her professor that she was really excited for the ball. After all, why would she walk down into Hogsmeade and buy a whole new dress if she wasn’t enthused about it? She was looking forward to getting dolled up and having a jolly good time with her classmates, whether she liked them or not.

But in the midst of Rose’s happy explanations, Severus noticed one lacking piece of information. She would be attending the ball, but would she be attending alone?

“Word has it that you are unattached for this moronic event,” he said, rather cynically. “One of my colleagues is under the impression that you are considering your options. I dare say; have you been lucky enough to receive multiple offers and are now deciding on the best choice?”

“Actually, no one’s asked me yet,” said Rose, taking a bite out of her honey-glazed cake. “My friends are all in relationships, so they all have dates built in. I’m one of the only single ones left, so I have to work harder. I’m not that alarmed though.”

“Really? No offence, but there are other Seventh year girls who are practically whoring themselves off to get a date. It’s as though their lives depended on it.”

“Their lives maybe, but not mine. You have to understand, Professor. When we were doing this for the Yule Ball all those years ago, I got all tied up in knots because I couldn’t find someone who wanted to go with me. And given the fact that I was fourteen at the time, I didn’t know that it was okay to just go with friends. I don’t want to go through all that again. I’m not going to get all worked up about going to a party with some guy.”

“You don’t even sound that interested in anything of the sort,” Severus commented. Rose thought about that for a minute, and then shook her head with an odd smirk. “No, I’m not. I blame my housemates really. They are all under the impression that when someone asks you, they do it with the intention of courting you. I have a lot of things going on in my life right now, and a relationship just isn’t that high on my list of priorities.”

“Is that so?” asked Severus. “Not that believable considering how you accept gifts from an anonymous admirer.”

“Well that’s different,” Rose explained. “It’s a really nice gesture, and it makes me feel good. But as I’m no closer to finding out who that admirer is, I don’t have to invest too much of myself into it. If anything, _All-my-affection_ has been a really good distraction from everyday life. There could be something there, though I’m not dwelling on it too much. But if nothing comes out of it, then that’s alright. It’ll be a cute story to tell my grandchildren.”

“And what if he appeared tomorrow and asked for your hand in courtship?”

Rose smirked, some color creeping into her face. “We’ll see when that happens, if it happens.”

Alright, so that was at least a small comfort to Severus. Rose was interested in what _All-my-affection_ had to offer, but she wouldn’t be devastated when nothing came to be. She wasn’t expecting a relationship out of it, but she was still happy. Severus almost wondered if any of that would change if she were to find out that it had been him sending her those gifts all along. But all that mattered right now was that Rose was not giving any indication that she had someone else in mind. There were no boundaries between them now. Rose had actually taken a good ten to fifteen minutes to describe her new dress to him in great detail. If Rose had someone waiting in the wings or coming in from the outside, she would tell him so.

“It sounds to me like you just aren’t that interested in dating,” he said, unsure if he should have brought that up. To his relief, Rose smiled with a slight giggle. She used the tip of her little finger to wipe some honey from the corner of her mouth.

“I’m as interested as any other girl,” she said. “I’m just waiting for the right guy to come along. I don’t like dating for the sake of dating.”

“Well when you say that, it begs to question if you have any experience at all.”

Rose chuckled. “Sure, I do. I’ve had my fair share of relationships. They were very short, but I think they count. Everyone has some kind of experience by the time they’re eighteen.”

_‘Unless they have terrible luck with those of the opposite sex,’_ Severus thought with a weak sneer. The most experience he had by the time he was eighteen was trying to secure a date for his own Seventh-year Ball. He remembered with great displeasure how that smutty Claire what-was-her-name-again only agreed to go with him because he was literally the last guy available. She didn’t like him any more than any other girl, but like many a young person of today, she was desperate. Severus wouldn’t have even bothered at all if he wasn’t trying to prove a point to James Potter. He wanted that prat to see that he could handle women just as well as anyone else. But Potter had the ultimate weapon that ensured Snape’s failure every time, and that was Lily. What started as a mission to prove himself as a young man ended up being one of the most miserable nights of Severus’s young life.

“Did you date anyone when you were in school?”

Severus snapped back into reality upon hearing Rose’s question. But unlike the many other times she made curious inquiries, this put Severus immediately on the defensive. She obviously already knew about Lily. Everyone knew about Lily thanks to Harry Potter and the good for nothing _Prophet_. But Rose had never brought her up in conversation, thus leading the professor to believe that she never would.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he told her, his tone suddenly hardening. He didn’t want to be mad at Rose, he really didn’t! But once Severus was in that mindset, defending those particular feelings, it was tough to get him out again. “And you should also know that I am not going to satisfy you with an answer.”

Rose sat stunned on her desk. She had been taken completely aback by the Potions master’s reaction to what she thought was an innocent question. What did she say? It took a few seconds of hard thought and memory rummaging before Rose’s brain started working again and she made the connection. “I wasn’t asking about Lily Potter. I was just curious if you ever went out with any other girls while you were at Hogwarts. I’m deeply sorry that you took it that way. Forget I even asked.”

“It’s alright, Rose,” said Severus. “I’m sorry that I had to snap at you. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t. I might have looked at other girls, paid them a little notice. But when push came to shove, I only had eyes for one.”

“I understand,” said Rose. She took a minute to finish off her cake before opening her mouth to speak again. “I’m sorry about that by the way. It’s tough to go through something like that.” Severus wished he could summon up the voice to thank her, but he found himself at a loss for words. Come to think about it, were there any words that could convey those tumultuous emotions to this poor girl? And frankly, Severus loved Rose too much to talk about Lily with her. He was supposed to be moving on, not dwelling on his past failures.

“Did you at least have a date to your Seventh-year Ball?” Rose asked warily. Severus’s class was the last one to have a ball, so he could have been in the same boat as them at one time.

“That at least I did,” said Severus with a wrinkled brow. “I cannot remember her name for the life of me. But looking back on it now, I wish I had gone alone. She couldn’t dance, she wasn’t much of a conversation, and she was crude when she drank. She’s partly the reason why there won’t be alcohol at your ball. She couldn’t even make up for it in looks.”

“She wasn’t that pretty?” Rose assumed. Before Severus could answer, the image of that ugly face popped back into his head after over twenty years of repression, and he shuddered hard. “She made Alecto Carrow look like a Muggle supermodel.” Rose laughed, sliding off of the surface of her desk. Severus’s first instinct was to be dreadfully embarrassed, and the pink staining his cheeks was a testament to that. But hearing that delightful little laugh, he glanced up at Rose and got one look at the light in her blue eyes. That blush suddenly became more about her than anything else.

“Well, everyone has to have their first sometime,” said Rose, smiling at the Potions master. Severus sighed and smiled weakly back at her. “Yes, I suppose. But I see it more as a testament to the rest of my romantic life. Given my situation and who I was as a young man, it was difficult to find anything meaningful if I had even wanted it.”

“You just weren’t one of those guys who had women falling at your feet?”

“I wish,” Severus sneered, rolling his eyes. “But you know, Rose, it didn’t faze me all that much. I never came across that many women that attracted me in that way. And whether you believe me or not, I don’t pursue anything unless I am definitely sure of myself and what I want. And in that one case, I was.”

“So no little flings here and there?” Rose asked with an odd tweak in her brow.

“Not unless you count Professor Sinistra and her attempts to seduce me fifteen years ago.”

Rose caught the burst of laughter in her throat, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. “What?!”

“Yes, you heard correctly,” said Severus. “I had only been teaching for two or three years when I found myself with that unneeded attention. I don’t even know what it was about me that had her so enamored, but whatever it was, it must have been impossible to resist. Constantly, I had to watch out for the swooning, the stroking, and the grabbing. I’ll be honest, I never thought that I would ever have to use the Hate Potion until then.”

Rose leaned on Severus’s desk, laughing hard behind her hand. Once she managed to compose herself, she fanned down her face. “It’s a good thing that I don’t take Astronomy anymore. I don’t think I could look at Sinistra with a straight face again.”

_‘You wouldn’t look at Cassandra Wicker the same way if I told you that she’s lusting after a werewolf,’_ Severus casually thought to himself.

Rose crossed over to the side of the room, and Severus noticed her grabbing a rag and running it under the sink tap to wet it. She came back to the desk she had been sitting at and started to rub away the spots of sugary glaze she had left behind. Severus told her that it would help if she did the other tables while she was at it, and he received a chipper nod.

“It’s a crying shame you don’t have more of those stories,” said Rose. “I’d bet that there are a lot of ladies out there who would find you quite the catch.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Severus said, watching as she briskly wiped down the desks. He let her work for a few minutes before a question of his own popped into his head. “What about you, Rose? Who was your first?”

“My first what?” Rose asked back. “My first date? My first kiss? Come on Professor, throw me a bone here.”

“Whatever you feel comfortable talking about,” said Severus. As curious as he was about Rose’s love life, he wanted any information he got to be on her terms. He got a little nervous when he noticed the color in Rose’s cheeks, but was relieved when he heard her calm voice.

“You don’t mind if I go on a bit of a frilly tangent, do you? I’m sorry, but I don’t want to bore you.” Severus shook his head with a smirk and a soft chuckle. Rose couldn’t bore him even if she tried. He waved a hand toward her, permitting the Gryffindor to continue.

“My first experience, I would say, was my first kiss.”

Severus nodded. It was a cute idea, but so typical of a teenaged girl. “How old were you?”

“I was thirteen,” Rose explained. “I’m actually a little embarrassed to talk about it today. It was with a Muggle friend of mine from Meadow Hill. We were young, we were just starting puberty, and we were curious. So we just went for it.”

“What was his name?”

“Benny…Benny Webber.” Severus noticed how Rose leaned back against the desk she was standing by. The look on her face suggested that she was letting herself drift back into some of her fonder memories. “Don’t get me wrong Professor. He was a good friend and great fun to be around, but we knew each other from the time we were five. I never saw him in that way and I never will. If there was ever anything between us, it ended where it started. No, that doesn’t count in my book.”

“Alright then,” said Severus. “Where do you start counting from?” 

“Probably my fourth year,” said Rose. “That was my first actual date, with a boy from Ravenclaw. He later ended up dumping me so he could take another girl to the Yule Ball. Natasha always told me that I shouldn’t count him because nothing happened between us. It wasn’t much of a relationship because he didn’t treat it like one.”

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Severus rose from his chair and walked around his desk to lean against the edge.

“I have,” Rose replied, an arch tugging at a flaxen eyebrow. She quickly jerked her head to shake her hair out of her face. “I have in the sense that I did refer to him as my boyfriend.”

“Was it another student?” asked Severus, terribly curious. He hadn’t paid Rose much attention in past years, so she could have been seeing another student right under his nose. Not that he was too enthused by that idea now, mind you.

“No, it wasn’t,” Rose shook her head. “It was someone else I knew from Meadow Hill.”

“Another Muggle?” Severus said, making it obvious that he did not intend that to be a question. Rose smirked as she nodded her head. “How did you two meet?”

“We met through some mutual friends. We went to primary school together, but he wasn’t really someone that I bonded with as a child. It didn’t matter anyway because I was off to Hogwarts by the time we were eleven. I lost touch with a lot of old classmates when I switched schools. But the summer before my fifth year, we met up again and he asked me out. I will give him a lot of credit; he knew how to treat a lady. I mean, when he showed up on my doorstep for our first date, he brought half a dozen roses. _“Beautiful roses for a beautiful Rose,”_ he said.I wish you could have seen the look on my mother’s face when she saw that.”

“How long were you two together?”

“Not very long,” Rose sighed, her face falling into a slight frown. “Actually, it was only for the length of the summer. My mother was terribly disappointed when I broke up with him. She thinks it was the biggest mistake of my life because it turns out that he went on to study law. Apparently I missed out big time!”

“There are no guarantees that he’ll be any good,” Severus pointed out. Rose nodded her stout agreement before turning back to the tables. The Potions master shifted where he stood, keeping his arms crossed over his slightly swollen abdomen. “Why did you end the relationship?”

“Well, it was going to get a little complicated when I went back to Hogwarts. After all, he didn’t know that I was a witch, and it would be difficult to explain why all my letters came by owl. I didn’t want to keep him in the dark all the time. It wouldn’t have been fair to him.”

“Is that all? Didn’t you care for him?”

Rose paused, hesitating for a moment. What Snape didn’t realize was that she had gotten that same question from virtually everyone she knew back home. Looking back, she hadn’t done a good job at explaining herself, but Rose didn’t have much of a choice. There was way more to her story than she dare tell them, even her own mother. “Oh, I cared for him. But I just felt like our relationship was lacking somewhat. As good of a boyfriend as he was, there were some things that I felt I needed that he wasn’t giving me. I wanted to be fair to him, but I also wanted to be fair to myself.”

“Be honest, Rose,” Severus interrupted politely. “Your attentions were already drawn elsewhere, weren’t they?”

Again, Rose stopped what she was doing. She held her breath for a minute before letting it go in a sigh. “Maybe they were.”

Severus was slightly confused. Either Rose had been interested in someone else when she was seeing this Muggle, or she hadn’t. But he would have been at a loss for answers if Rose hadn’t used the word _maybe_. That one simple word told Severus that she didn’t intend her response to be so ambiguous. If the answer was no, then she would say so. And the visible pause in motion all but confirmed it for the dark-haired wizard. Someone else was in the picture when Rose ended her summer romance.

Now Severus was wracking his brain, searching his memories for any images that might give him a clue as to who this person could have been. Rose had always been seen around boys, whether they be from her house or another. The trouble with that however was that these young lads were almost always close friends of hers. She couldn’t have had a fling with one of them, could she? Could she have harbored feelings for one of those thick-headed Gryffindors? Severus suddenly thought of the way that Rose looked at Potter, and he felt a burn deep in his stomach.

“So what became of you afterward?” he asked her, almost dreading what she had to say.

“I didn’t jump right into another relationship if that’s what you’re asking,” said Rose. “Actually, that was the only relationship I’ve had. This is the thing, Professor. It isn’t that I’m just not interested in guys. I mean, I’ve had some pretty strong feelings in my day. But I don’t always act on every feeling that I have. I might have wanted to…” Rose trailed off as Snape approached her right side. “But sometimes, things just get in the way.”

Severus sighed. It was as though his and Rose’s thoughts were one in the same for a short time. If anyone knew anything about life’s inscrutable obstacles, it was him. His situations with women was enough of a testament, with Lily turning her back on him while they were still young, and then finding love again in the wrong place with Rose. But still he nodded his consensus.

“You’ve had some strong feelings, have you?” About who, Severus wondered silently to himself.

Rose looked up at the Potions master, her lips attempting to twitch into a weak smile. “I think everyone does from time to time, Professor. You would have to be completely inhuman not to know what that feels like.”

“Rose…have you ever been in love?”

Silence filled the room as Rose’s breath slowed. She felt a hard lump of tension forming in her stomach, and there was a strange trembling in her chest. She didn’t even know if she was able to answer Snape. After all, he was now the one who triggered those very powerful affections. There wasn’t a doubt in Rose’s mind that she was madly in love with Snape. But there was no way for her to tell him so, not with the risks to her own emotions being so high.

And yet at the same time, it would be an utter lie if she said no.

Images of her sweet Slytherin’s face flooded through her mind, and Rose had to concentrate on her breath control. She remembered those haunting dreams she had those lonely summer nights, and she swallowed the knot forming in her throat. At one point, Rose even gently grasped her chest in response to the dull aching that was slowly taking over. But she wouldn’t crumble in her grief, not this time. Too long had Rose carried this pain with her – weeks, maybe months too long. But a secret this profoundly personal was not something to be carelessly tossed out. And there were only so many people trustworthy enough to take that secret on for themselves and guard it like it was a piece of Rose’s soul, which in many ways it was.

Just before Rose could be crippled by emotional turmoil and intense discretion, she remembered something that Hermione said all those weeks ago, when Rose ran away crying at the sight of that old dogwood tree. She wasn’t the only one who had felt that kind of deep passion. Though she would never dare to bring it up in conversation, Snape had loved Lily Potter his entire life. He likely still did, even then. He knew exactly how it felt to go through that pain and suffering. If there ever was a perfect person to counsel a grief-stricken young lady, it would be Snape. Rose just wished that she had listened to Hermione when she first suggested it over a month before. The fact that she had now developed romantic feelings for the professor would only make it harder to talk.

She deeply hoped that she would not regret this.

Rose turned her body so to better face the Potions master, hesitating for another moment or two before she took in a shaky little breath and said, “…yes.”

Severus could feel his heart sink into his pelvis, but he was not that surprised to hear her say that. As much as he had hoped that Rose had maintained that last scrap of emotional innocence, he knew that the chances of that happening were slim to none. All Severus could hope for now was that this affair had long since passed.

“I see,” he said, unsure of how carefully he should tread. “Given that it was you who ended the relationship, it seems prudent to assume that it is not your former boyfriend you are referring to.”

“No…it was someone else,” Rose said ever so quietly, a near whisper. She grabbed the edge of the desk she had been leaning against and lifted herself up onto the surface. Severus noticed how her demeanor visibly wilted before his eyes, how her eyes were suddenly glued to the floor. “Are you alright, Rose?” he asked, a little concerned. Severus leaned up against the table closest to her.

“I’m fine,” said Rose, slipping into a slight mumble. “It’s just that…well, I’m not really used to talking about this. You’re only the second person I’ve admitted that to.”

“After your mother, I presume.”

Rose snorted in her throat. “Please, she’s been married twice and goes through men like clean knickers. I didn’t think she would understand. Actually, Hermione has been the only one I’ve ever mentioned it to.”

Severus raised his eyebrows. “Only Granger? Forgive me, but I always thought that you were much closer to Natasha Moschovitz. Why tell Granger and not her?”

“I had my reasons to keep it a secret, and I still have reasons to keep it secret. The only reason why Hermione knows about it is because circumstances allowed it, and I felt that she was trustworthy enough to keep it.”

She couldn’t even trust her own best friend of seven years! Severus understood that Granger was practically Rose’s other half these days, but Moschovitz likely knew every intimate detail about her. He could hardly believe that Rose could be so guarded against her feelings slipping even to those who knew her best. Perhaps they didn’t know her so well after all, and maybe Granger did. No, that just didn’t make sense! This had to be the biggest secret of Rose’s life. When a woman falls in love, the first person she goes to is her best friend. Severus suddenly started viewing those memories of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw together in a newer, more dubious way.

“I’m sorry Rose, but I have to ask you,” he said, giving Rose a fair and proper warning about where this was about to go. “Who was it that you fell in love with?”

Rose swallowed hard, wringing her fingers in her lap. Her blue eyes flicked up to Severus, and the Potions master saw just how empty they were. His concern steadily grew the longer her stared into those hollow blue holes. “I don’t know if I should say…” said Rose. “Frankly, I don’t know if I can say.”

“Do you not feel safe with me?” asked the dark-haired professor.

“No, I do. It’s just that –,”

“Rose, you could tell me anything short of a threat to our national security, and I wouldn’t tell a soul. This is obviously something that you hold very dearly. I would never want to betray your trust in that way.” Rose looked away from Severus again, like she was considering the integrity of that statement. Then she faded again, falling back into the depths of her mind. “Do I know this young man?”

“You _knew_ him,” Rose said, her brow wrinkling to shade her obvious frown. Severus nodded, but not without apprehension. So this boy was no longer in the picture, but why? Severus thought with quiet horror about the possibilities of what might have happened to upset Rose this much.

“Did he know how you felt?” he asked, very gently.

“No…” Rose let her voice trail off before letting out a soft, trembled sigh. “He never knew.”

Severus just didn’t know what to make of his situation. Never had he seen Rose look so lost, so dismayed. Everything about her demeanor told Severus that this wasn’t just a schoolgirl fancy gone terribly awry. Something more had to have happened, something to make this young love take a tragic turn for the worse. And in the time they were living in, there was one appalling idea of what that might have been. It was a question that had to be asked, no matter how painful it was for Severus knowing what it could do to his precious Rose.

“He’s no longer with us, is he?” And with that, Rose shut her eyes tightly and pressed her lips together. A sharp intake of breath preceded the slow shake of her head. Rose brought a hand up to steady her nearly trembling chin. Severus stood frozen in place, wanting desperately to reach out to touch that hand but couldn’t. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to hurt her, but there was no way around it this time. “Who was it?”

At first, Rose thought she wouldn’t be able to speak. But she took several deep breaths, telling herself over and over that she had already done this once before. She had told Hermione everything, and she could do the same with Snape. Mustering up that same courage, she turned to meet the eyes of her beloved professor. Her heart clenched as she spoke. “It was Dante Macleod.”

Just like that, Severus felt as though he had hit a brick wall. He remembered that boy, alright. Dante Macleod had quite possibly been one of the most mild-mannered Slytherins in the history of Hogwarts. He wasn’t overly goody-goody; he had his mean tendencies like anyone else. But in terms of getting into trouble, he wasn’t one to do it deliberately like many of his housemates. Severus never once heard of him bullying another student, once thought to be a rite of passage for a young snake. He remembered Macleod as a broadminded lad, interacting with a wide range of people, never feeling tied to his own house. And he remembered Macleod as the lone Slytherin that could always be found at Rose’s side.

Now, he felt so stupid. In his attempts to put a face to Rose’s past affairs, Severus had overlooked what many might have already thought to be the most likely suspect. He also couldn’t have been angrier with himself for stirring this emotional cauldron in bringing up the memory of the late Slytherin.

“Oh Rose, I’m so sorry,” said Severus. “I remember he was a good friend of yours.”

“Good friend,” Rose snapped, shifting her body away from the Potions professor. “He was my best friend! I could go on for days about Natasha and Jonny, Hermione and Harry. But _he_ was my true, honest to God best friend.”

“I do not doubt that, I hardly remember seeing you two apart. You were practically connected at the hip from the time you arrived at Hogwarts.”

Rose chuckled. “What can I say? We got on so well, why spend time apart? Not that I would have wanted to anyway. I’d never known anyone quite like him, at least not until I came here.”

“For curiosity’s sake, did you two know each other before you started school? Like when your father started bringing you into magical establishments?”

“No,” said Rose, shaking her head. “But if you ask me, we might as well have. He was one of the first people I met coming into Hogwarts. We shared a boat coming over the lake on our first night…I remember how helpful he was to me. He was a pure-blood, and he was all too willing to take me under his wing. He told me everything he knew about Hogwarts. I remember him telling me how he wanted to be in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw like his family, and he started asking me about what house I wanted to be in. All I could tell him was that my father was a Slytherin. Mind you, that was before I really knew about their reputation, or how my dad fit right into it.”

“You couldn’t have known, having spent a grand total of about fifty days with him since you were a child,” said Severus. “But I digress, what did Macleod have to say to that?

“He said that reputations were made to be broken. A bunch of his relatives were former Slytherins, and none of them went bad. And he certainly didn’t have any intentions of going bad. I still can’t believe that; eleven years old and he was saying those things. I knew I liked Dante from the moment that I met him. I’ve never clicked with somebody so quickly, and so easily too. We met when there was no prejudice; there were no labels holding us back. I was afraid that it would be over when I got sorted into Gryffindor and he into Slytherin. Dante did mention that housemates tended to stick together. But do you know what he did?” Severus shook his head with a gentle smirk, and Rose continued. “He came right up to me the next day and sat down beside me in our first class. He just carried on, helping to ease me into the Wizarding world, like there was nothing amiss. I’ll be honest Professor; I would have had a hard time adjusting to this world if Dante hadn’t been there.”

“Yes, he did always have a way with people,” Severus commented. “I seem to recall seeing him more often with students of other houses than with his own.”

“He was happier with us than with his housemates,” said Rose. “He really didn’t enjoy their company that much. He kept commenting about how he was the civilized one in his year because he wasn’t riddled with issues that could only be taken out on unsuspecting First years. It wasn’t in his nature anyway. That’s what I loved about him; he treated everyone with as much respect as he felt they deserved. It didn’t matter what house you were in. I mean, I was a Gryffindor. I was supposed to be his sworn enemy by a lot of people’s standards, and yet he didn’t care. I was his friend, and that’s that. And when Jonny and Natasha came in, he did the same thing with them. You were right to call us a walking crest of Hogwarts, because we really were.”

“I have to give that boy a lot of credit. He had a lot of nerve to do that, especially in the period of time that you were growing up. Come to think of it, I might have said that to his face once or twice.”

“You wouldn’t be the only one. He caught a lot of flak over the years for hanging around with us. You don’t know how many times I overheard Malfoy and Zabini saying the most vile things about him, just because of his choice of friends. If I’ve ever wanted to hex Malfoy into next year, it was when I overheard him calling Dante a blood-traitor. But Dante never cared. He stuck by us through all the good, and all the bad. They especially gave him a hard time because of me, but it never swayed him. He actually used to get in between me and Parkinson. I think he’s the reason why we didn’t get into a scrap earlier; he wouldn’t allow it! But that was just like Dante. If I ever needed him, he was right there. And if I ever had a problem, he would do what he could to fix it. That Ravenclaw that two-timed me, Dante actually asked for my permission to beat him up for me. And you know Professor, he probably would have done it.” Rose let out a quiet laugh at the memory.

Severus also looked back on Macleod’s devotion to those three odd friends of his. “Yes, he was that sort of person to stand up for his friends. I cannot tell you how many times he came to my office, trying to tell me that you deserved all the credit for the potions you brewed together in my class.”

“Yeah, I remember that,” said Rose, raising her eyebrows. “He was always the first to admit that he was rubbish at Potions. He claimed that I saved him so many times in your class, he probably owed me a life debt. But you never did acknowledge that, why?” She glared out of the corner of her eye, a sarcastic hitch catching in her tone.

“Because I favored him over you,” Severus reluctantly but bluntly admitted. “But looking back on it now, I realize that Macleod was probably right to say that. He had to be right if he partnered with you right up until you sat for your O.W.L.s.”

“What else did you think of him?” asked Rose. “I know he greatly respected you as his Head of House.”

“Why am I not surprised? I suppose Macleod was the closest to pleasant that my house had to offer. He didn’t give me that much trouble, which was nice. Now that I think of it, I have to agree with you, Rose. He was one of the more civilized ones.”

_‘What I would give to see the look on Dante’s face if he heard you say that,’_ Rose thought fondly, but sadly as well. For years, Dante held Snape in high esteem, but he always felt second rate to people like Malfoy. Her heart ached to know that he had Snape’s full respect all along, and he wasn’t there to see it.

Severus moved again to face Rose, even if she still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “When did you first realize that you were in love with him?”

“It probably started when I was fourteen. I knew I felt something for him when we went to the Yule Ball together, that there was something more about him than just our friendship. It didn’t dawn on me that it was love until I dated that Muggle.”

“What was it about him that attracted you?”

“Everything!” Rose said, her voice hitching up. “Professor, I already knew Dante inside and out. I knew virtually everything about him, and I knew what he stood for. Even before it became a huge issue again, he usually disregarded people’s backgrounds. If he had a problem with you, it wasn’t based in blood status. He hated and liked people because of who they were. What’s not admirable about that?”

“He wasn’t like the other guys,” said Severus, stealing the thought right from Rose’s lips. Rose looked up to the dungeon ceiling, sighing through her teeth. “He always had this way of making you forget that he was a Slytherin. If he wasn’t wearing that uniform, you might not have believed him. He almost never acted like the others in so many ways. I still think he could have made a great Gryffindor.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Rose nodded. “He did things that other Slytherins just wouldn’t do. I mean, look how loyal he was the three of us. We always came before his housemates, or at least from what I could see. He was such a leader too. Whenever it was the four of us together, he was always the one leading the charge. And what I loved about him was that he never changed that. He was that way when we started at Hogwarts, and he was that way when he…when the war erupted here.”

Severus noticed Rose’s hesitation, knowing exactly where she was letting her mind wander. He tried to shift her attentions to what he hoped would be much happier memories. “What else did you like about him? There must be more to your liking than just personal convictions.”

Rose’s chest heaved slightly as she spoke. “Everything that made me like him as a friend.”

“Be honest, Rose. It was more than just his personality alone, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir,” said Rose, but Severus shook his head. “I watched that boy grow up. I saw how handsome he got to be.”

Rose blushed briefly before continuing. “I can’t exactly pretend that his looks had nothing to do with it. But really, it went way beyond how good-looking he was. Dante always made me feel like I was the only person in his world. He always treated me with the upmost respect, and went out of his way to make me feel special. And he was always the first person at my side when my life took its turns. If I had bad days, he was the first one to try and make me smile again. When I had no date for the Yule Ball, he asked me to go with him, saying _“You’re too good a person to show up alone.”_ He had another girl set to go with him at one point, but ended up saying that he had way more fun with me than he ever could with her. I have a lot of friends here at Hogwarts, far more than I ever had in Meadow Hill. But I might have given them all up as long as I had Dante.” Her eyes started to well up with tears, and Rose breathed hard in an attempt to stifle them.

“He was a very upstanding lad,” said Severus. “And he would have gone on to become a great, great man.”

“He was already a great man,” Rose tried to say, but her voice cracked mid-sentence. “He just didn’t have a chance to show it.” A single tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. And right there, Rose realized that there would be no holding it back. A hand came up to cover her eyes as she started weeping, causing her to hunch in over herself.

Severus just stood there. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say! He had seen Rose reduced to tears by the sheer pain of Dolores Umbridge’s torture, but never had he seen her break down like this. She had teetered on the edge, but she always maintained her control. And Severus recognized that this could only mean one thing. Rose trusted him completely. She trusted him with her heart, her soul, and her weakest moments. But this was no victory. He couldn’t feel happy for himself while seeing Rose like this. She wasn’t just mourning a long one-sided passion. She was mourning a friend.

He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain white handkerchief, holding it out to the crying student. Rose looked at him for a moment, befuddled. But she then took the cloth and started dabbing her reddening eyes. “Why didn’t you tell him how you felt?” asked Severus. “If you loved him so much, why keep that from him?”

“I was afraid that it would ruin our friendship,” Rose croaked. “As much as he cared for me, he never gave me any indication that he thought of me as more than a friend. I couldn’t take the chance of declaring my love for him only for him to say that he didn’t feel the same.”

“There still could have been the chance that he did,” Severus pointed out. “As you said, you knew each other better than anyone else. He knew what a wonderful woman you grew to be. So he must have known how lucky he would have been to have someone like you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Rose. “But even with that, I thought I had all the time in the world to work up the courage. He would be there forever, he said. Even when Lord Voldemort was taking over, he kept telling me that we would all leave Hogwarts together. I never…I never thought that I would lose him.”

Severus stepped forward to rest his hand on Rose’s shoulder. “His death was not in vain. If there’s one story I remember from that night, it was Horace Slughorn telling of how Dante Macleod was told to evacuate the castle with the rest of his house, and he refused. He wanted to stay behind to defend his school. Slytherin or not, it took a great deal of courage to do that.”

“He didn’t want to abandon us,” Rose whispered. “Even though Jonny and Natasha left with the others, he wouldn’t leave me here on my own.”

“That’s right,” said Severus. “He wasn’t going to leave you or anyone else to fend for yourselves. The battle might have cost him his life, but he died fighting for your freedom. He died valiantly.” He thought that would an encouraging thought for Rose, but instead, she ended up with more tears pouring from her eyes.

“But he shouldn’t have been the one to die!” she wailed. “He shouldn’t have been the one to be killed like that.”

The Potions master was confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Professor Snape, do you know how Dante died that night?” Severus shook his head, and Rose took a deep gasping breath. “He died because he jumped in front of a Killing Curse that was aimed for me. It should have been me to die fighting. If it weren’t for me, he would have walked away from this castle!”

Now Rose was sobbing into her hands, smothering herself with Severus’s handkerchief. Nearly overcome by his own emotions, Severus bent over to cup her cheek in his hand. He felt the wet heat of her tears against his skin, and he felt a stinging in his own eyes. “Rose, no matter what you think, it was not your fault! Macleod was trying to protect you, he died to save you! You didn’t make him do it, he just did. You should never have to live with that kind of guilt. I blame myself for too many people’s demises, and I would never want to see you go through that kind of pain.”

“Then I should have gone with him,” Rose admitted in between racking snivels. “He was so wonderful. Why did I deserve to live and not him?”

“Everything has its reason,” said Severus, echoing the words of Dumbledore. “Perhaps it was just his time. But you shouldn’t have to carry this with you forever.”

Rose moaned. “How can I not?! I saw a whole life with him, and then it was ripped out from under me. How was I supposed to go on with my life without him?”

“Oh Rose…you still love him, don’t you?” All Rose could manage was a feeble nod.

Severus was about ready to tear up himself, and his raging pregnancy hormones had nothing to do with it. This was Rose at her absolute lowest, it was gut-wrenchingly painful for him to witness. He felt horrible for even bringing up this entire conversation, meddling in her personal life when he had no real right. All he wanted now was for her to chin up. He wanted to comfort Rose, tell her that her life would be alright without Macleod. He would say anything as long as it would help her to stop crying. But what could he do when words didn’t work anymore?

He caressed Rose’s face, with both hands now. The young Gryffindor stared into his eyes, pawing at him from those cold blue orbs. She was desperately searching for relief. And Severus decided that there was only one thing left for him to try. A part of him worried about how Rose would react to it, but something inside him told him that it was what she needed. Severus very slowly and very gently guided Rose to his shoulder, allowing her to rest her head against it. He then brought up his arm to wrap around her slim shoulders, softly rubbing her back. Rose was still for what felt like an hour, but then Severus felt two thin arms come up around his waist, hands resting tensely on his back. Rose continued to sob, and Severus stroked the back of her head with his free hand, fingers easily running over smooth red hair.

“It’s alright, Rose,” he whispered, feeling the wetness soaking through his robes under Rose’s cheek. “Just let it go.”

 “Why – _sniff_ – why does it have to be so hard?” whimpered Rose. “Why does it have to hurt so much?”

“You don’t have a heart of stone, dear. When it’s someone that you love so dearly, it is always hard. But take comfort. You had seven wonderful years with him, and nothing will ever take that away from you. And if all else fails, remember that he’s in a better place now.”

Rose hugged Severus tighter, burying her face in his robes. “Professor…does it ever get easier?”

Severus thought about that for a minute, processing what she was trying to say. He thought about all those years after Lily’s death, how he wandered around in a haze, not sure what was left for him without her. He remembered those nights of wondering whether or not life was worth living, if he would ever love someone else the way he loved Lily. And he remembered the awful onslaught of emotions ranging from the tepid to the suicidal. But he carried on regardless, even if he didn’t know what was propelling him forward. And now, eighteen years later, he carried a child, and he held the love of his new life in his arms.

“It does,” Severus whispered into Rose’s ear. “It takes quite a lot of time, but it does get easier. Just look at this way. A wise man once told me that those we love never truly leave us. Macleod was always there for you in life, and now he’s with you everywhere you go.”

It went unsaid that Rose would have preferred if Dante were still alive. Instead, they both focused on the here and now. Rose took all the comfort she could from Severus’s strong, but gentle embrace, letting her tears taper off gradually. And Severus just held Rose close to his body, feeling her warmth against his chest, against his hidden baby bump, knowing that he may never get this chance again.


	43. Wolves in Winter

The month of November slowly drew near to its close, and powerful winds worked to sweep away any remnants of autumn that remained in the Scottish hills. And the sharp chill in the air brought with it a heavy winter storm.  Snow and ice battered down on the ancient glass of Hogwarts’ windows, filling the rooms with a dimmed gray-blue light. The mountains outside were covered in white and the temperatures dropped to the point where the lake started to freeze over. It was so cold that teachers took great measures to keep their classrooms warm, in the form of extra Heating Charms. No one, save maybe Hagrid, dared to venture outside for any reason. The snow was coming down far too hard for mindless play between classes. Instead, many felt quite content to find a quiet spot to study with friends, or simply wander around the darkening corridors.

Life at Hogwarts went sleepily along while winter reared its ugly head behind their walls.

Remus Lupin strolled up and down the length of his classroom, hands in his trouser pockets. Desks and chairs had been moved out of the room, giving him leeway to freely roam among his Seventh year students. They would have been moved out of the room anyway, just as they had for the last three classes. The nature of this lesson required quite a bit of moving around, and he thought it best for his classroom to be as empty as humanly possible.

He ducked his head slightly to his left to avoid a wispy, white otter floating around his headspace. A few more strides and he stepped over a slightly more solid-looking boar. Further still, and a crane circled around him two or three times in midair. Though the room was filled with a silvery mist, Remus’s pride soared every time he caught sight of a spectral animal cutting through.

This was the first time that the Patronus Charm was being taught at Hogwarts; given their very recent history, Remus thought it was important that the oldest, most proficient students learn it for themselves, and it had been his biggest priority in returning to his post. Surprisingly, it was a rather popular idea all around the castle. Although, whether or not it was because a majority of his class had already had quite a bit of experience with the spell was up for debate. All that mattered to Remus was that there were some among them who had no experience. For their benefit, as well as for the practiced members of Dumbledore’s Army, Remus spent a class giving them a well thought out lecture, leading right into an intense practical. This carried on for the next two days.

Remus already knew that a number of the kids could already produce corporeal Patronuses. In fact, a certain Head Boy had actually been given a pass to sit the lesson out. But he was absolutely impressed by the sheer number of them. There was Hannah Abbot with her graceful dove, the Patil sisters with their pair of cheetahs, even Neville Longbottom managed to finally conjure up something that looked rather like a Basset Hound. Remus watched on with an almost fatherly sort of happiness. Harry had taught them very well.

But as he expected, there were some who were lagging behind the rest. Malfoy had so far been the only Slytherin to produce a full Patronus, which ended up taking the form of a large, white peacock. But then, Remus didn’t expect many of his housemates to fair that well. One could only imagine what their idea of a happy memory was; the werewolf shuddered at the idea. To his surprise, one of the students appearing to be having some trouble was Rose Beckett. While she had managed to produce a non-corporeal shield, that was as far as she was getting. Even at the end a third practical lesson, there was no improvement. Though Remus knew that defensive spells were not her strongest skill, he also knew that she always got better with practice. He could see the frustration building in her eyes every time she shouted the incantation only to produce more mist, and he felt bad for her. A quick look over at Harry and the look of concern in his face told Remus that the young man was thinking the exact same thing.

The class continued right up to the time when the bell sounded through the halls outside the door. Once that occurred, the ghostly animals faded into nothing and the surrounding mist dissipated. At that point, students wandered over to either side of the room to grab their things. Rose however could not get out of there quick enough. Lips pressed together, she shoved her wand back into her robes, slung her bag over her shoulder, and turned to storm out into the halls.

It was utterly humiliating to be the only Gryffindor to not able to conjure a full-body Patronus. No matter how hard she tried, all she got was that wretched misty shield. After three days, she thought she could have produced something of obscure shape. Even with the encouragement of those around her, still there was nothing! Angrily, Rose wondered if there was something wrong with her. She had heard that dark wizards could not perform the charm. Was the fact that she was sired by one somehow stopping her from reaching her full potential? Rose was letting her frustration get the better of her, and she thought some time alone could help to work it away.

Rose had barely stepped outside Lupin’s classroom when she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Startled, she spun around to find Harry standing just behind her. “Hey Rose, where are you off to?” he asked, sounding like he was putting on some sort of false optimism.

“The library,” said Rose, passing her irritation off as tiredness.

“You have an assignment to work on?”

“Not particularly,” Rose shook her head. Actually for once, she had finished all of her work on time, leaving her with no legitimate reason to sit up there, hidden by the rows of books. “Why?”

Standing just outside the doorframe, Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, I noticed that you were having some trouble back there, and –,”

“I know that, Harry!” Rose interrupted, turning to leave again. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry, but I’d rather be left alone for a while.”

“Hold on there, Missy!” Harry interrupted right back, and Rose spun on her heels at him. Missy?! Was that the worst he could come up with, or was he just being cheeky? The-boy-who-lived didn’t give Rose very much time to think because he carried on talking. “I noticed you were having trouble with your Patronus, and I thought that I should offer you some help.”

Rose sighed. “Thanks for your generosity, Harry. But if I couldn’t get it right after three full lessons, who’s to say if I ever will?”

“Me,” said Harry, very matter-of-factly. “Look Rose, I know you’ve got it in you just as much as anyone else in that room. Just because you haven’t had the practice that they have doesn’t mean that you can’t do it. Let me give you some pointers to get you there, just you and me.”

Deep down, Rose was touched. Harry really was a good friend if he was willing to give up some of his well-deserved free time again to help her, without the prodding of someone else. But she thought about his proposition. If it was her, and her magic was just off somehow, then there was nothing that Harry could do. But then again, this was Harry bloody Potter. This was the guy who produced his first Patronus when he was thirteen. She couldn’t have found a better defense tutor if she had gone out looking for one. So after a minute’s deliberation, Rose shrugged her shoulders and said, “Alright, if you insist.”

They said their short goodbyes to Ron and Hermione for the break, and then Harry led Rose down the hall. He led her through a number of winding corridors, and up two flights of stairs. Rose wondered briefly where the hell Harry was taking her, but it occurred to her after she noticed the Head Boy glancing through open doors. He was in fact looking for a private spot for them to work.

On the fifth floor, Harry looked through yet another door and finally nodded with a small smirk. He pushed the door open further to let Rose in first. It turned out to be a long disused classroom that met Harry’s fancy. Desks and stools were piled up in rickety stacks against the walls, surrounding the entire perimeter of the room. A teacher’s desk stood steadily in front of a dusty, cobweb-covered chalk board. And tall windows let in snow-shadowed light, illuminating an open stone floor.

Harry instructed Rose to leave her things on an abandoned desk, which she did willingly. She then went to stand in the middle of the floor, wand in hand and Harry set his books down beside Rose’s before pulling out his own wand. He leaned against the teacher’s desk in a clear and decent impression of Lupin. “Alright Rose, so show me what you’ve got.”

Rose took a breath, gathering her thoughts. Then she swiped her wand through the air and spoke the incantation. Like every one of her previous attempts, that silvery mist shot from the tip of the ebony wood and formed into the round protective shield. She let it shine for as long as she could before letting her wand fall to her side, shading the room in blue darkness once again.

“That’s all I can do,” she explained, the frustration again restricting her vocal cords. “No matter what I do, that’s all I get.”

“You’re just not trying hard enough,” Harry said in all honesty. “You’ve been going at it for three days, and that’s all you get? I’m sorry Rose, but something isn’t right here.”

“But what if it’s me?” asked Rose. “What if there’s something wrong with my magic?”

“Rubbish,” said Harry, shaking his head. “If you were not physically capable of performing that spell, you wouldn’t have gotten as far as you have. It isn’t who we are that makes that spell, but what we put into it. Out of curiosity, what memory did you choose?”

“The night we all went to the Yule ball.”

Harry sighed, shaking his head with a wrinkled brow. “I’m sorry again, but I don’t think that’s cutting it for you.” He started to slowly pace around the room, circling around Rose. “When you set out to cast the Patronus Charm, you can’t just use any pleasant memory. It has to be the happiest, most powerful memory you could ever think to have. You almost have to dig into the very depths of your soul in order to produce the strongest charm.”

“What do you suggest then?” asked Rose.

“I think you have to go deep into your past,” said Harry. He noticed the dubious look on Rose’s face. “Alright, maybe not your far past. But think about it for a while. When was the first time in your life when you felt genuinely happy with yourself?”

Rose thought about it for a minute or so before she said, “When I came to Hogwarts.”

“Good, and what happened here to make you happy?”

“Lots of things,” Rose muttered, diverting her eyes away from Harry. But the messy-haired young man planted his feet directly in front of her. “But something has to be the strongest. Rose, I’ve known you a long time. I know you’ve got some great memories tucked back in that head of yours. Concentrate on the one thing that made you the happiest you’ve ever been.” He stepped closer to Rose and rested a hand on her arm.

“Think about Dante.”

Rose’s eyes widened as she felt her stomach drop. Her jaw eased opened, letting out a soft, but still heavy breath. “How do you know?”

“I hate to tell you, Rose, but you’re not as discrete as you think. You might not be as animated as the other girls, but I could see that look in your eyes whenever you and Macleod were together. I noticed that that was how Hermione used to look at Ron when he wasn’t looking, and I made the connection. I asked Hermione about it a few weeks ago.” Harry could see the hardening look of anger in Rose’s eyes. “Please, don’t be mad at her. She felt really guilty about it when she told me. She felt like she was betraying you. But I already figured it out for myself, and all I wanted was a confirmation.”

“You could have come straight to me,” mumbled Rose.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t approach you sooner. But believe me when I say this, Rose. You can trust me with that secret. Hermione practically made me take a blood oath, but really, she didn’t have to. I know what it’s like to love someone that much, and I understand why you would want to keep that to yourself.”

“But why would the thought of Dante by of any use to me now? I don’t really see that as a happy memory.”

“You’re focusing too much on his death,” said Harry. “You’re letting your mind get too cluttered with the thoughts of all that happened last year. Don’t think about Dante and yourself fighting for your lives. Don’t even think about how much you loved him toward the end, because that’s not pleasant either. What I want you to think about is the time you spent together when you were younger, when there was no war, no Voldemort to worry about. Think about the days before the heartache, when he was just your friend.”

Harry stepped back again, and Rose gripped her wand. It was a little much to ask for, perhaps a little too specific. But it was worth a shot, Rose thought to herself. She pointed her wand and started to reminisce. She saw herself and Dante as children, huddling in the library and trading Wizard cards. She saw them sitting and cheering side by side as Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup. And she saw herself in his arms as they danced together at the Yule ball. She felt the joy of her childhood innocence, and the pitter-patter of a young heart falling for the first time.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” Rose shouted. The mist that shot from the tip of her wand swirled around in the air, coming together to form an unrecognizable shape before fading once again. It was more than the white shield she had been generating, and Harry noticed that with a good nod of his head. He saw this as the magic making an attempt to form a corporeal silhouette. They were getting somewhere!

“That was good, Rose!” Harry encouraged. “You almost had it there! I want you to do that again, but try concentrating harder. Concentrate like you’ve never concentrated before.”

By this time, Rose was starting to get a headache from all this pondering. Her youth with Dante was powerful, but perhaps not powerful enough. But the problem with that was that the older they got, the more it hurt for her. She tried to stay focused on her fourth year. Dante had shown her such a good time at that ball. He danced with her until she couldn’t stand anymore, and he barely let her lift a finger when they were sitting. He kept her happy throughout the party, and he kept her happy when they made momentary escapes. Never before had Rose felt so content with her life, felt so alive! She didn’t think she could find more happiness than in her darling Dante’s arms.

But she had…and the image of Severus Snape seeped into her memories. Rose remembered her dream of seeing the Potions master’s face in the enchanted mirror, and how she saw him caressing her behind the glass. She remembered how desperately she wished for that to be a reality, and she remembered how she got her wish after speaking to Snape about Dante. As cathartic as it was to reveal her love for that boy to Hermione, it ended up being something else entirely with Snape. With him, she felt that she got more support than anyone else could provide. And the way he held her…Rose could feel her pulse quickening at the very thought. She thought of how euphoric she felt to be wrapped in the warmth of Snape’s strong embrace, smelling the light aroma of spices and herbs in his robes, hearing his deep voice whispering into her ear. He made her feel so loved that night. He made her feel more loved than anyone else ever could.

“ _Expecto Patronum!!_ ”

A piercing howl cut through the silence of the room as the mist from the ebony wand shaped itself into a great white wolf that glided through the air toward the stone floor. The ethereal creature stalked on silent paws, and it circled around Harry three full times before it crossed the room and disappeared into the darkness.

Rose held a hand to her chest, gasping in near breathlessness. Her blue eyes were the size of tea saucers to see what she had just done. And her grip on her wand was so loose that she could have dropped it. She looked over at Harry, who was beaming at the spot where the wolf Patronus had stood.

“I told you that you could do it,” he said through the grin. Rose tried to think of something meaningful to say, but what came out was just some senseless giggling. For once in her life, she was too elated for words. Harry didn’t seem to be interested sentiments anyway. He just threw his arms open, and Rose dashed over to hug him tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, oh thank you!” she said in sputters.

“Don’t thank me,” said Harry. “That was all you.”

Wasn’t that like Harry? As good of a coach as he was, he didn’t take credit for success. He held you up with all that he had to offer. And Rose could not have asked for more out of him. He was a strong, steady support, and he pushed you in a way that made you reach for full potential without pressuring you too much. Even when you wanted nothing more than to give up, Harry wouldn’t let you. He would get what he wanted out of you using nothing but sheer encouragement. He was the perfect balance between a good teacher and a great friend.

Who would have thought, Rose wondered to herself, that one day she could say that she was great friends with the savior of the Wizarding world?

**~HP~**

Producing her first Patronus had obviously pumped up Rose’s mood significantly. If her classmates hadn’t been there in Lupin’s classroom, they would never have guessed that she had come so close to losing her temper. Her smile was brighter than they could ever remember seeing it, and it carried on for much of the day. Her energy increased as well, and it showed in her magic. She was now performing at a level that could have challenged Hermione. Not even the dreadful bore of Divination could dampen her enthusiasm.

For the entire afternoon, the only thing that Rose thought to do was to tell as many of her housemates as she could about what she had done. Not to brag, just to tell. It started with barging in on a romantic moment of Ron and Hermione’s before Transfiguration. It then went to Lavender and Parvati at the lunch table. And by the time classes let out, the rest of the Gryffindors started coming up to hear the story for themselves. But in retrospect, they were all subpar compared to Rose’s real desire. She wanted to see Snape and tell him as soon as she could. After all, it was he who inspired such a difficult feat of magic. Though Snape himself would never know that, Rose wanted so badly to include him in her happiness.

She got her chance in the late afternoon, when she stopped by the Potions professor’s office to chat before supper. Though he appeared to be busy with what looked like another class’s quizzes, Snape took one look at her beaming face and invited her to sit for a while. He was more than willing to listen to whatever it was that she had to say.

“Well, I must say that I’m not all that surprised,” he said once Rose had finished telling him every detail, save for the memory that she chose to focus on. “A witch as skilled as yourself would have no troubles conjuring up a Patronus.”

“But I _did_ have trouble, sir,” said Rose. She stressed the statement to show Snape that he didn’t have to force a compliment – not that she minded it, of course. “It took me three days to produce a full-body Patronus, and I didn’t have the luxury of being a part of Dumbledore’s Army. If it wasn’t for Harry, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You’re much too quick to give Potter credit,” Snape sneered slightly, marking some student’s paper with a large letter D at the top of the page. “He’s not some miracle worker who can boost magical talent with a single glance. In anything, he’s a glorified cheerleader.”

“He helped me get my thoughts together,” clarified Rose in Harry’s defense. If she could change one thing about Snape – only one thing – it would be his opinion of Harry. Rose understood why he insulted her friend at every opportunity; she just wished that he wouldn’t do it in her presence.

“Be that as it may, the power to conjure that particular charm lies with no one but the person casting it. There are some witches and wizards out there – many actually – that couldn’t produce a corporeal Patronus even if they tried. Those who didn’t manage to do it in your class may never be able to. Rose, if you were not meant to cast that spell, then you wouldn’t have been able to produce a shield. The mere fact that you went further than that shows that you have great magical ability and the memories needed to achieve that.”

Rose forced a laugh, her cheeks flushing their usual pink. She tried not to focus too much on Snape himself for fear of making it worse. For some reason, the light and the angle he was sitting at was making him look so bloody hot today. This fawning and flattery was absolutely delightful, but once again, Rose found herself a little puzzled. What was it that made Snape compliment her time and time again? Out of the countless students outside Slytherin that he could have picked to take under his wing, why did she stick out?

“Professor, I have to ask you…why me?” she said in a small, timid voice. “Why do you favor me and not my housemates?”

Snape almost flinched at the question, but then he turned to the window behind his desk, watching the still falling snow pile up against the glass pane. “What could I say that I haven’t already, Rose? It’s because you are not the typical Gryffindor. You have your moments of absurdity like the rest of them, but they are short moments. You don’t allow the obnoxious qualities of your house to dominate your character.”

“But Professor,” Rose spoke again. “Why do I get the feeling that there is more to it than that?”

“Isn’t there always?” said Snape. “It just goes to show you, I can’t stray from my normal tendencies one time without raising questions. I suppose you have people coming up to you, asking if I’ve gone mad.”

Rose sighed. “Please, we thought you were mad long before you started hanging around with me. But I can’t really lie to you. A few of my housemates have been saying that you might have finally lost it.”

“Figures,” Snape said as he looked back at the Gryffindor. “But then again, as far as everyone else is concerned, maybe I have lost something if I favor a Gryffindor above many others.”

“Nonsense!” Rose barked before she realized what she was doing. “These last few weeks, while I’m helping you on potions, it’s been the sanest I’ve ever seen you.”

“Try telling that to the rest of the world,” said Snape. He looked back to the freezing window. “If you have been defending me like you said, it wouldn’t surprise me if those bumbling brats thought you were a jar short of a potions closet.”

“I’m just trying to get everyone to see what I see,” said Rose.

“Easier said than done, Rose,” Snape sighed. Rose’s brow wrinkled in concern. He didn’t sound angry, he didn’t sound despaired. But there was something in the Potions master’s voice that let Rose know that there was something more going on behind those deep, black eyes. Snape continued. “I don’t even know why I try sometimes. I stick to my own house, and they call me a biased bastard. I branch out some, and suddenly I’m half insane. It’s a sick game they play, and I constantly come up short. And frankly, I’m tired of it.”

Rose sighed out a long breath, nodding her agreement. “That has to be so frustrating.”

“More than they know. No matter what I do, it’s not enough for them. I imagine that you sometimes feel like that too. The rest of your house can’t stand me, and you’re practically singing my praises. Rose, do you really know why I prefer you?” Rose shook her head, almost begging for Snape to indulge her.

“Truthfully, it’s because I see much of myself in you. I don’t know how you would feel about that, but knowing you as well as I do now, it’s a little hard for me to ignore. You’re a kid who has every reason to be angry, but you still find the strength to go on. You’re a kid with a family who cannot cope with themselves or anyone else. And you’re a kid that no matter what you do to change it, you feel stuck. You feel the need to live up to standards that life has thrust upon you. And then you lose what you value most, and you can’t see a way around it. I listen to you sometimes, and I hear parts of my own youth. But the last thing I want is for you to end up like me. I would be damned if I let you go down the wrong path with no way to come back. I’ve been told that I’ve helped turn students into responsible adults. But for once in my life, I want to feel like I’m actually doing it.”

Rose sat still for a moment, taking in what she had just heard. That had to be one of the most touching things anyone had ever said to her. She could just feel a small knot forming in her throat as she blinked several times to keep her eyes clear. “I…I don’t really know what to say,” she stammered. “I’m touched that you feel that way, but there’s one thing I still don’t understand. Why couldn’t you bring yourself to see that sooner? Where has all this concern been for eight years?”

“I can’t really explain it,” said Snape. “I had a lot of problems to sort out then, and I have a lot of problems now.”

“But you could have shown me that there was some chance that you could have changed. You tell me all the time about how I have such potential in Potions. Why didn’t you tell me that when I was growing up, instead of making me believe that I never would have a chance against the Slytherins? As much as I respected you, you made me hate you. Countless nights, I sat up wishing that you would just vanish for good…” Rose paused, turning her head away and letting her eyes fall down to the floor. “But half the time, I feared that you actually would.”

Snape looked at her, perplexed. “Why?”

“Because deep down, I knew that there had to be more to you than just the biased, vile Slytherin…and Harry confirmed that for all of us. When I thought that you had died…I’ll be honest. I was upset. I was sad for all that you would never get to be, all that you are now.”

“I’m still not perfect,” said Snape. Rose shook her head at that. “No one’s perfect. But with all your faults, you are still a good, noble, and honorable man. I just wish I could have seen that sooner.”

There was certain look in Snape’s eye, almost the makings of a glimmer. But he soon shook his head slowly with a small smirk. “You really are a nice girl, Rose. For everyone’s sake, don’t ever change.”

_‘Why can’t you just say it? You care for me, you have to! Why is it so hard to say?’_

“I don’t really intend to,” said Rose. “If my father’s influence was to ever kick in –,”

“It would have happened by now,” Snape finished for her, prompting a laugh from both Rose and himself.

It wasn’t long before Snape noticed the late hour, and he urged Rose to go so she could have some time to herself before supper. She would no doubt be telling her Patronus story again, after all. Rose was very hesitant to go, more so than usual. But as she didn’t want to reveal anything more to her beloved professor, give him any ideas about what was going on inside her head, she rose from her wingchair. Ever the gentleman, Snape walked her to the door of his classroom and bid her a good evening. They then parted ways outside the Potions classroom.

Even as she walked through the cold dungeon corridors and up the stairs to the ground floor, Rose was having a hard time keeping herself together. Her heart was pounding with intense emotions and powerful affection. The knot in her throat could have impeded her breathing, and her eyes were starting to burn. Knowing exactly where this was heading, Rose desperately searched for a place to hide. But with the storm causing everyone to hole up in the castle, that proved to be easier said than done. Aimless wandering brought her up to the second floor, where she finally found a deserted girls’ bathroom. She pushed open the door and entered the empty, freezing-cold room. And though she was totally alone, she locked herself in the nearest cubicle before letting go of her tightly held emotions. The tears started running down her face almost instantly.

Every time she thought she couldn’t love Snape anymore than she did, he would do or say something to change that. The way he would look at her from across the room, the pauses he gave between quiet words, or the way it felt when he touched her. All of it made Rose’s heart soar in a way that could have reduced her whole body to jelly. If she wasn’t head over heels for him before, she certainly was now.

But that’s when the familiar hurt began to seep in. She loved Snape with all of her being, but she would never feel that same love in return. Again, she had let her own feelings cloud her better judgment. She had lost sight of how wrong this entire situation was. Or perhaps she had simply put too much hope on an impossible scenario.

She knew that Snape was a good man, better than that, a man who deserved to be cherished. But she would have to be either completely daft or stark raving mad to overlook their obvious differences. The age gap didn’t even seem all that relevant anymore when you considered everything else that divided them. Some of it related to Snape, such as his past as a Death Eater and his general detest for Muggles. But the more Rose thought about it, the more she felt like it was her who was not living up to what she wanted.

She was a Gryffindor, the most obvious fact that virtually anyone would point out, and many already had. As much as Snape complimented her on her mild personality, she still carried traits and had tendencies that Snape probably couldn’t live with. Snape after all was always the first to criticize her brashness when things went her way. He wouldn’t want to deal with that all the time. And then there was her upbringing. Snape seemed to be the type of guy who valued prestige and affluence, which she had none of. She didn’t have the same aristocracy to her name as her father did; she had been denied that from the moment of birth. As she currently stood, she hardly had anything to bring to the table except a bare pile of gold. Snape would prefer a girl with a name for herself, a girl who didn’t need to depend on anyone for anything. And the way he talked about Muggles, or even because of what she had told him, Rose doubted that Snape would be able to stand ten minutes with her mother.

But she still had her personality, Rose tried to tell herself. Her male friends had all said in one way or another that she was a find. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t born for the true name of Beckett because she didn’t need it. She had more compassion and kindliness than many of her relatives to come through Hogwarts, if she was to believe those around her, including Snape. Barely an hour before, he was calling her a nice girl. He could see her as a woman worth noticing. But what was the point in even trying when Rose knew what she would ultimately have to live up to?

Every description of Lily Evans Potter she had heard thus far could be summed up in only one word, and that was angelic. At one time or another, Rose wondered if the woman had actually been human because no one could name one flaw about her. She was magically gifted beyond all comprehension, one of the most powerful witches in modern history by many people’s reckoning. It was even rumored that her talents had intrigued Lord Voldemort of all people. How could Rose compare to something like that? But if there was one thing Lily had been more famous for, it was for the endless amounts of good in her heart. Harry had retold all of the stories he had heard about his mother, describing her as a woman who had compassion for virtually everyone, as long as they didn’t delve into dark magic. Rose tried very hard to see the good in people, but there were numerous times when she failed miserably. And it was Professor Lupin who in an interview with the _Daily Prophet_ said the one thing that really stuck out in Rose’s mind. Lily was exceptionally kind, but she also had a forgiving quality. He actually went to the extent of saying that if she had lived to see where Snape ended up, she might have found it in her heart to forgive him for what happened in their school days. The woman was perfect! Rose had just finished telling Snape that no one is perfect, and yet she was!

Of course, with such a wonderful image of Harry’s late mother, Rose couldn’t blame Snape for falling in love with her. She was there for him when he needed her unrelenting kindness. She was a friend to him when he needed one. And of course, from what Rose could gather, she was as beautiful in appearances as she was in spirit. What man wouldn’t want something like that? And besides, Snape had loved Lily Potter for nearly his entire life. He loved her before most children had any concept of what real passion was. And he continued to love her nearly two decades after her untimely demise. If death couldn’t stop Snape from loving her, it was hard to believe that he ever would stop loving her. He probably didn’t have any room in his heart for another girl. Rose just wished that somehow it could be different.

Wishing, wishing, all this senseless wishing! It was always wishing that got Rose into these terrible emotional troubles. She wished that her parents would learn to accept her, and that didn’t happen. She wished that Dante would fall in love with her, and that didn’t happen either. Why should she believe that it would be different this time? In solitary moments like this, Rose had made a habit of stealing away to her ideal world, where everything she desired would be hers. Everything that might have been would be so. But the tragedy in that was that it did nothing to ease the pain of reality, and her perfect life was beyond her reach again. By this point in her life, the only purpose of wishing was only to hurt you when you were most vulnerable. And that proved once again as Rose wept into her hands inside that cubicle loo.

The cold of the room made Rose feel like the wet trails on her cheeks were freezing. The air was also dry, making her already scratchy throat worse. Now it hurt to cry. It didn’t help that her body heat was draining with her tears, causing a definite shiver. But Rose wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t show anyone how upset she was, not even her closest friends. She didn’t even want to explain to Hermione what was going through her mind; she still couldn’t understand that this was more than just a crush. So she would stay in that frozen lavatory until she could retain her normal self, hidden by the shadows of the falling snow.


	44. Joy and Melancholy

The morning of December the first dawned on a cool, white morning. But there was no mistaking that there was a definite air of excitement bubbling through the student body, even so early in the day. The weeks and days of waiting for the Seventh-year Ball had finally been reduced to a few hours. They just had to contain themselves through their classes, which would not be that long at all. In a gesture of kindness – wisdom, more likely – Professor McGonagall had decided that the class schedule would be cut in half for just the day, freeing up time for students and faculty to get ready.

For Gryffindor however, the morning started off with a bang. The oldest students were all huddled together, discussing the night’s festivities when the post owls flew in, one of them dropping a letter down in front of Harry. Recognizing Molly Weasley’s handwriting, he tore open the envelope and read over the letter inside.

“ _Aaagghh!_ ” he shouted, his green eyes shooting open. His startled housemates jumped in their seats, dropping various utensils and bits of breakfast. Ron jerked his head in Harry’s direction, his face wet from the splash of milk up his nose. “Blimey, what is it mate?”

“Ginny’s got the Wizard’s Flu,” Harry half-moaned. “She’s not coming tonight!”

“Oh, the poor thing!” said Hermione, snatching the letter out of Harry’s hands to read it for herself. “Sweet Merlin, Mrs. Weasley says she has a 38.8 degree fever, can’t get out of bed. Aww, that’s such a shame.”

“For me or for her?” groaned Harry. Across from him, Rose could see the look on his face becoming more and more desperate by the minute. She leaned over her plate to speak. “Harry, she’s your girlfriend. Take it from me; the Wizard’s Flu is no walk in the park. Aren’t you worried about her?”

“Of course, I am!” Now Harry’s pitch was picking up, showing everyone how quickly he was slipping into a slight panic. “But I was counting on her to be here tonight. McGonagall told me that the Head Boy and Girl always had to open the dance, just like the Triwizard Champions at the Yule Ball. In so many words, I _need_ a date to this ball!”

“Calm down, Harry,” said Ron. “There’s no need to panic about a stupid dance.”

“I wouldn’t be panicking about a stupid dance if it was Ginny I was dancing with. I can barely dance as it is, but at least she tolerates that. God damn it, I’ve been working on my dance moves too! Tell me this, why do I have to be the guy that has to have his girlfriend back out at the last minute? Why me?!”

“It’ll be alright, Harry,” Neville spoke up. “Just find someone else to dance with. I’m sure Ginny will understand.”

“Going to a fancy ball with another girl?” Harry asked sarcastically. “What, are you mad?”

“Dancing doesn’t really count as cheating,” said Rose, smirking at him. “You’re honest with her, right? If you just explained the situation to Ginny, maybe send some flowers and chocolate for good measure, I am quite sure that she would allow you to go with someone else.”

“I just have to find someone else before seven o’clock tonight.” Harry took his letter back from Hermione and rose from his seat, looking up to the Head table. “Is Remus up there? Oh forget it – I’ll just wait for him in his office.” He grabbed his things and took off for the doors, disappearing into the corridors.

For a short moment, the Gryffindors just sat there, staring at the far end of the Great hall, a little dumbfounded. What just happened there? “By god, he’s finally snapped!” Rose gasped in a playful manner.

“Not funny, Rose,” said Hermione, though she did still smirk as she said that.

“What do you think he’s going to talk to Remus for?” asked Neville, turning some of his attention back to his cooling porridge.

“Probably to ask what the hell he should do,” said Ron as he leaned in closer to Hermione. He casually draped his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Waste of time if you ask me. He’s probably going to tell Harry exactly what we told him.”

“I didn’t think Harry would get so freaked about this,” said Rose, reaching for a slice of toast. “He’s been so cool about the ball, compared to everyone else anyway.”

“That’s because he has a girlfriend this time,” Hermione explained. “He didn’t think he would have to go through what he did back in our fourth year, trying to find himself a date. He had a date built in this time around, and he was counting on that. I think he’s upset because now he has to go through all of that again.”

“Rotten timing too,” Rose started looking over her shoulders, observing the students around her. Silently, she was wishing Harry a lot of luck in his attempts to play Casanova. There were not many young ladies left available, and she was sure that Harry did not want to take a page out of Seamus’s book. Their Irish housemate had finally found a suitable date after corporately striking a deal with Dean and Parvati, and would now be attending with a slightly hesitant Padma Patil. Although, it couldn’t be worse than Zabini. At least Harry had enough sense and decency not to openly walk around with a little Ravenclaw Fourth year on his arm.

**~HP~**

For some reason that Severus couldn’t quite figure out, Poppy decided to do a quick check-up on his pregnancy before the evening’s festivities. There wasn’t much point to it, except maybe to cause an inconvenience for the Potions master because she insisted that he pop up to the hospital wing in the middle of the morning. Classes would be through by one o’clock, why couldn’t he just come up then? And what exactly was she checking him over for? By all appearances, both he and his unborn child were healthy, at least since his last visit with the Mediwitch. Severus was starting to wonder if Poppy was taking a little too much interest in his condition. She should be more worried about someone like Potter; the boy looked ready to have a panic attack as he passed Severus by in the halls. He briefly wondered about what was causing the annoying little nuisance that amount of anxiety, but Severus decided rather quickly that he just did not care.

Poppy performed her usual assortment of diagnostic spells, gently prodded his swelling stomach, and marked down her findings in Severus’s medical file. She then turned back to the pregnant wizard. Just as he expected, he and the baby were doing just fine, and he sat up to button up his robes again.

“Do you have any questions for me, Severus?”  Poppy asked, just as she always did at the end of his examinations.

“Yes,” said Severus as he adjusted the fit of his robes around his developing child. He slowly smoothed out the fabric over that bump, almost affectionately. “I’m a little concerned that I haven’t felt any movement yet. The way people have been asking me, I thought it should have happened by now.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that,” said Poppy. “It’s difficult to pinpoint when fetal movement can be felt because different people feel it at different times. Your child is probably already very active in there, though you might not notice it for a few more weeks yet. First time parents often have to wait longer for their child’s first movements. Just relax and wait it out, it will happen soon enough.”

Severus sighed, letting his black eyes fall to the floor as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. He suddenly felt the mattress dip down beside him. He glanced up at Poppy, who was now looking a bit concerned. “Are you alright, Severus?”

“I’m fine, why do you ask?”

“You have seemed rather distant the last few days. Is something bothering you, dear?”

Oh yes, a plethora of things were bothering him! But they weren’t exactly things he could talk with Poppy about because for once, none of them had anything to do with his pregnancy. He had been relatively distant from his colleagues these days because he had been paying a lot of attention to Rose, trying to stay on top of her single status, which thankfully still stood. The Seventh-year Ball was that evening, and there was still no word of the Beckett girl having a male escort. All that left for Severus was to hope that she really was alright with that. He didn’t believe that Rose would ever lie to him, but given that she had managed to keep her unrequited love for Dante Macleod a secret for years, only revealing it to a bare few, months after his death, Severus had the sense that she could keep the disappointment of being dateless to herself as well.

“I just have a lot on my mind, Poppy,” he explained. “I can’t really stop that, can I? Don’t worry about me too much, I can manage.”

“Well, it’s good that we have that ball tonight,” said Poppy, resting a hand on Severus’s leg. “We all could use some distraction around here.”

“I’m surprised that you are so enthusiastic about this useless brouhaha,” said Severus. “If I do recall, you often ranted about the Seventh-year Ball when I was in school.”

“Ah, but that was when I had students ending up here in various states of intoxication. Since Albus has finally decided to listen to me and not serve alcohol, I cannot complain. Take my advice, Severus. The point of the ball is to get one night away from the stresses of life, whether it be students bogged down by studies or teachers with much to think about. As your healer, I want you to promise me only one thing for tonight, and that’s to at least try to enjoy yourself. If you’re going to spend your evening catching couples in dark corners, take delight in embarrassing the dickens out of them.”

Severus offered her a small, optimistic smile, but it was really just for show. He wasn’t even sure if he was up to flushing out lovesick students when he knew that his attentions would only be drawn in one direction.

**~HP~**

The morning dragged on at an incredibly slow, teenager-imagined pace. Regardless of the fact that afternoon classes had been cancelled for the day, many students seemed to be having a tough time getting through what classes they had with their full attention. House points and faculty patience both suffered. But time did pass by all the same, and soon enough, the one o’clock hour approached and students were released to attend to their respective needs before the ball.

The young students hardly heard a word from their older counterparts after that. The Seventh years in particular were most elusive, none of them venturing outside the confines of their common rooms. If anyone heard from them at all, it was usually because one of the girls was knocking on the dormitory door of another year, looking for some extra makeup or hair products. The rest of the students had to surrender to being stuck in their general sitting areas, pouring over assignments they would rather not be doing, peering at doorways for the so-called guests of honor. Many of them were still festering in their jealousy that the Seventh years got their own ball, but given that they now had the afternoon off, they couldn’t complain too much. It helped that they gained house points every time someone gave up that afternoon to help set up the Great hall.

Up in Gryffindor tower, hot, thick, heavy steam filled the girl’s house bathroom as the sound of running water bounced off the walls. Four out of five shower stalls had their red curtains drawn, hanging so that they each exposed only a delicate pair of feet, and each had a set of fluffy towels waiting for the occupants within. It seemed that the four Seventh year girls had commandeered the showers because they claimed the room for themselves, placing a charm on the door so that they wouldn’t be disturbed. The other girls would have to wait until they were finished if they needed the loo. It wasn’t like they would be in there all night after all.

Lavender was in the middle of singing the chorus of a tremendously annoying song by some irritating Muggle pop-star when a loud voice shouted at her from the stall two places down from hers. “Lavender! How many times do we have to tell you? We really do not need to hear you singing!”

“Oh shut it, Hermione,” Lavender shouted right back. “I can’t help it if I’m in a good mood. You don’t complain when Rose sings in the shower!”

“That’s because Rose does it when she’s by herself.”

“Rubbish, I heard her the other night!”

“Then at least Rose can carry a tune!”

“Hey!” Rose’s voice echoed up from between the two of them. “No need to go on about me like I’m not here. I warned you two already, no rowing tonight!”

“Seriously,” now came Parvati from her cubicle next to Lavender. “We need each other to get ready tonight. Don’t go and get our evening off to a bad start.”

“Then one of you could tell Hermione to stop it before I come over there and jinx her naked arse,” Lavender demanded, with enough force to convince her companions that she had every intention to do that.

“Hermione!” Rose called as she leaned outside of her curtain, wiping water out of her eyes while keeping herself properly covered. “Would you come out here for a second?”

Hermione peaked out of her folds of red, also careful not to expose herself. Her hair was still quite soapy and lathered up with her strawberry-kiwi scented shampoo. “Yes Rose?” she said in a playfully sarcastic manner.

“Give me your hand,” Rose slowly said, as though speaking to a child. Cautiously, Hermione held out her free hand. Rose then swiftly and quickly lashed out and smacked her roommate on the back of her hand.

“Ow!” Hermione cried out, pulling back.

“Now cut it out,” Rose ordered and retreated back into her hot shower.

Parvati made an appearance outside her curtain, as did Lavender. Both of them were caught between laughter and slight shock. “Did you just slap her?!” Parvati asked in a heightened pitch.

“Yup,” Rose’s voice was drowned out, as though she had chosen that exact moment to dunk her head under the flow of water. “If you two are going to behave like children, then I will treat you like children.”

“Dear Merlin!” Lavender gasped. “If that’s the way you think, then I’d hate to see you as a parent. I can just see the headline now, _Kent mother arrested on suspicion of child abuse._ ”

Rose blew out a hard breath, clearing water from her airway. She then reached for her waiting bottle of conditioner. “They might as well arrest Snape while they’re at it because he’s been doing that verbally for as long as we’ve been here.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t hit,” Parvati pointed out. “At least he doesn’t hit the girls or the very young students. Unless there’s something that we should know, Rose.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” barked Rose. “Girls, I’m just playing! Give it a rest! I’m sorry, Mione. I didn’t mean to slap you so hard.”

“That’s okay, Rose,” said Hermione. “Just don’t do it again. We don’t need you following in Snape’s footsteps.” Her tone was completely sarcastic, but the walls of the shower hid a little knowing smile at the mention of the Potions professor’s name.

“Yeah,” Lavender agreed. “The guy’s not exactly father-of-the-year material himself. The way he treats us, I shudder to think of what he’d be like if he had kids of his own.”

Rather wisely, Rose promptly bit her tongue to stop herself from snapping at her giddy, blonde friend.

**~HP~**

Severus watched the sun slowly disappear behind the mountains from the tiny window in his private quarters. Under different circumstances, he would probably have been up in the Great hall, being made to slave away with the other professors to set up and decorate for that blasted ball. But Albus had been quite firm; he didn’t want the Potions master to do any potentially strenuous labor in his delicate condition. He demanded that Severus take the afternoon off, and Severus took a lot of delight in the resentful looks he got from his colleagues on his way back down to the dungeons. If there ever was a time when he was grateful to be pregnant, that was it!

Pacing around his bedchamber, he slowly stripped off his clothes bit by bit. He kept eyeing the bed, where his brand new, black silk dress robes were all laid out and waiting to be worn. It seemed appropriate that he start to get ready now that it was getting dark. He had already spent much of the afternoon reading by the fire, and though he would gladly rather spend a few more hours killing time, he didn’t want to feel rushed when the time came. And on this night of all mandatory nights, Severus would be taking quite a bit of interest in his appearance. After all, he would be dressing for someone this time.

He thought about how Rose was up in her dormitory, getting ready right along with him. She was a pretty girl to begin with, but Severus could only imagine what she would look like tonight. The way she had been talking, she would be putting a lot of effort into looking good on no one’s arm. Not that she needed a man by her side to garner attention, Severus thought lovingly to himself. But in amongst his anxious, love-blurred reflections, he noticed how his visual attention kept drifting back towards the fireplace on the far side of the room.

He was having that nagging feeling again, the feeling that he should be sending Rose another gift. But while he had been able to resist the urge a few times in the past, this time it was impossible to ignore.

He had put her through so much these last couple of weeks. He had drawn out unpleasant memories of the Hogwarts battle, and he had accidently uncovered some of Rose’s most deeply held emotions. Now she finally had something worth looking forward to in this ball. Severus could see how excited she was, and he wanted to give her something else to be happy about. But if he were to buy another little present for her, he would have to act fast. It was obviously much too late to order something out of the _Witch Weekly_ he had confiscated from the Patil sisters, but there was another option open to him, an option he had already taken to try and please his young love. It would be costly, but it would hopefully be money well spent. It was a formal occasion after all. Rose deserved to have something as dazzling as this dress of hers that he had yet to see. She deserved to have something dazzling anyway, and Severus was more than willing to meet the challenge. _All-my-affection_ would have to go above and beyond this time.

Already reaching for a quill and some parchment, Severus tossed in a handful of Floo powder and shouted out the name of the Hogsmeade shop. He then got down to his knee and stuck his head into the green flames.

_Gemma’s Jewels and Gems_ was desolate that evening, just as Severus expected. It was one of Hogsmeade’s more well-kept establishments, with not a speck of dust to be found anywhere or on any surface of the small showroom. Rich red carpet covered the floor, and crystal candle-holders lit up the room. Glass display cases held a large collection of jewelry for both men and women, which expanded to the locked cabinets lining the walls. Gold or silver, diamonds or rubies, it was all there to fit the taste of any who walked through the door.

Severus looked around the empty space from his low, Floo-induced angle, and a soft noise turned his attention in the direction of the till. The man was rail-thin, thinner than even Severus had been before he got pregnant. His face was just as thin, with a long, straight nose and wide-set eyes. But contrary to his emaciated form, he was dressed in a velvet waistcoat and fine, linin suit jacket. A top hat sat just behind the counter. A pale hand was supporting the head that appeared to be nodding off into what was a likely to be a long nap.

“Oi!” Severus barked. At that loud disturbance, the jeweler sprang back to life, looking around the room to see where the voice had come from. Seeing no human presence there with him, he instinctively looked down to the fireplace. And when he got a good look at the face staring back at him, he hopped to his feet and strolled over.

“Ah, back again, are we?” he said, grinning in a way that fixed to make Severus’s skin crawl. “I take it that the little lady enjoyed the bracelet?”

“She did,” Severus lied. He hadn’t seen Rose wearing the bracelet, so it was hard to tell if she actually liked it or not. Why did this insolent man have to ask questions anyway? Did he not learn anything from their first inter-hearth transaction?

The thin-faced jeweler nodded with a smirk. “Well, there you have it. I told you that it was impossible for a woman to resist our merchandise. She knows how special she is when she is staring down at goblin-mined stones and genuine metals. Now, what can I do for you tonight, sir?”

“I need to see some of your finer pieces, something that would be appropriate for a formal event. And remember what I said last time. If you say a word about this to anyone, I’ll have your guts for garters.”

**~HP~**

A heap of wet towels lay beside the door of Lavender and Parvati’s dormitory, and the room reeked with the powerful smell of perfume and hairspray. Hermione, already dressed in her long, periwinkle gown, sat at the vanity that the other two girls kept on the far side of the room. Very carefully, she twisted the last few strands of her swept-up hair around the shaft of her wand. A clever little charm had heated it up so that it functioned like a Muggle curling iron, giving the Head Girl the finishing touch to her elegant up-do.

She had set her wand down and was now spraying her finished hair when Rose came into the room, clutching the back of her dark blue dress to keep it closed. Hermione hopped up to help zip it up. Once Rose adjusted how the fabric fit around her bust and waist, and after making sure the brooch sitting atop her breastbone was straight, she made her way over to the vanity stool and sat down. Hermione stood behind her and picked up her wand to start drying Rose’s still wet hair with a jet of hot air.

“Alright, so remind me of what you wanted again?” said Hermione as the dampness rapidly began to evaporate. Rose tried to blow away the red strands that were landing in her face. “Something half-up, half-down, and with some soft curls. You good to do that?” Hermione nodded assuredly, grabbing the hairbrush already set out to get started on the requested style.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see Justin in his new robes,” Lavender squealed excitedly. Behind her, a dressing-gown-clad Parvati was working to lace up the back of Lavender’s strapless, sparkly pink ball-gown, making the blonde witch gasp with each hearty pull. “Rose, do you – _gasp_ – think that he’ll think that I’m – _gasp_ – beautiful in this dress?”

“Of course he will!” said Rose, turning to look at her friend. Hermione however almost instantly grabbed the sides of her head and turned her back to the mirror. She carried on brushing, and Rose carried on speaking through her reflection. “With the amount of money you spent on that dress, he had better think you’re gorgeous. Really Lav, I don’t know why you would ask such a stupid question.”

“Probably so she could hear you say that she’s gorgeous,” Hermione laughed with a little less malice than before, but spitefully all the same.

“Hey,” Rose said sternly. “Who was it that asked me how periwinkle would look next to ginger hair?” Evidently, that was enough of a jab to put the Head Girl in her place. With a low grumble disguised as a giggle, Hermione brushed the sides of Rose’s hair back into her free hand. She then pinned it into place and reached for her wand again.

“You know, Rose,” said Parvati, still wrestling with pink laces and loopholes. “I don’t mean to make a fuss over you not having a date tonight, but given the circumstances, you seem pretty calm. Don’t you feel a little down about that?”

“Not at all,” said Rose, flinching as she felt Hermione tugging her hair as she started twirling around her heat-charmed wand. “I don’t know why I should be.”

“Really?” Lavender spoke up, holding onto her bodice. “If I remember correctly, you panicked the day before the Yule Ball after that jerk from Ravenclaw decided to go with another girl. You were in full-out crisis mode before Dante Macleod invited you.”

Rose sighed as she reached for a bottle of cherry blossom perfume, and Hermione noticed her shoulders wilt at the mention of the Slytherin’s name. Rose didn’t like to hear about Dante any normal time, but tonight was an especially bad time to bring up the memory of her late friend. But to her surprise, Rose did not avoid the topic. “I think Dante and I would have gone together anyway; it just took us some time and some bad dates to end up like that. It was dumb luck that it didn’t work out for either of us so that we could go as friends.”

“And you ended up having a wonderful time together,” Parvati jumped in. “The look on your face when you got back up here at the end of the night said it all.”

Rose slowly applied her perfume to spots around her neck, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her head was bursting with memories of that December night back in 1994. Though this might have been completely unbearable weeks ago, the pain was only a dull heartache tonight. She had better things to think about, mostly about her precious Potions master and his mandatory presence at this new ball. “Yes, Dante knew how to show a girl a good time.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” Lavender asked with the upmost honesty. “Don’t you wish sometimes that he was still alive today, so that he might be your date again tonight?”

That was when Rose’s smile disappeared. Hermione automatically turned to scold Lavender, but a wave of Rose’s hand stopped her before she could speak. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “Dante was my friend, and I miss him every day. But I know I can’t bring him back, and it would be selfish of me to wish to have him back just for a dance. Really girls, I’m not fourteen anymore. I’m fine with not having a date. I would rather go alone than with someone that I don’t know, or worse, don’t like.”

“But who will you dance with?” asked Parvati.

“I’ll dance after the meal, when it’s not so formal.”

“That’s right,” said Hermione, spraying some of the soft curls that now hung at that back of Rose’s head. “Your ability to have fun does not depend on who you’re having fun with.”

“But what’s more fun than getting a kiss at the end of the night?” Lavender giggled, a certain tweak in her eye that gave away a more suggestive idea.

Again, Rose swiftly turned to her blonde friend to protest. And again, Hermione jerked her back into position by her shoulders. “Hold still!” she snapped in her mock-irritation. Rose leaned her elbow onto the vanity and started laughing into her hand, although the other girls couldn’t really tell if it was at Hermione or Lavender.

“Come on, Lavender! You and Justin have not been together that long. Give it a rest!”

**~HP~**

Rose and Hermione decided that they both wanted to put on their makeup in the privacy of their room. Both were done up with their hair styled, and Lavender’s gay excitement by that point was starting to get on both of their nerves. Neither of them was very interested in hearing about her more intimate plans with her Hufflepuff beau. And with the social chaos that no doubt awaited them downstairs, both girls wanted a little time together before the festivities got under way.

Light blue shadow dusted over the lids of her eyes, Rose was staring intently into their vanity mirror, applying light-colored mascara when Hermione entered the room. She had gone down to the sitting area to retrieve her compact of eye shadow that she had allowed Lavender to borrow. She tapped Rose on the shoulder, and the latter looked up, wiping away slight smudges around her eyes.

“Harry’s at the bottom of the steps,” Hermione explained. “He said he has to talk to you for a minute.”

Rose was a little puzzled. She hadn’t seen much of Harry outside of classes, probably because he was still trying to recover from that morning’s little Ginny crisis. But still, she capped her mascara and closed the compact where she kept her blush. Bypassing her silver shoes, she left the room and walked down the tower steps, careful not to step on the hem of her dress. She pushed open the dormitory door and found Harry leaning against the balcony overlooking the common room. He was dressed in his new robes of black silk-satin, including a waistcoat made of thick black fabric that looked rather like dragon scales. His hair was slicked back and combed down with hair gel. And Rose was surprised to see that Harry wasn’t wearing his glasses, leaving his emerald eyes fully exposed. Rose had never been attracted to Harry in all the years she had known him, never had any romantic thoughts about him in any way. But to get this first glance of a grown up, dressed up Harry…in another life, in a different world, Rose might have been tempted.

Harry turned to look at her, and almost instantly, his dark eyebrows perked up. “Wow!” he gasped “Rose, you look great!”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” said Rose, leaning against the doorway. “What happened to your glasses? Hermione told me you’re as good as blind without them.”

“Muggle contact lenses,” Harry explained. “I got fitted for them over the summer, and I was waiting for a good moment to try them out. I was kind of planning on showing them off to Ginny. Ron talked me into wearing them anyway. He said if I don’t wear them tonight, I might never.”

“And lose your glasses?! Come on, Harry. Your glasses are part of what makes you – _you._ ” Rose walked over and leaned on the ledge next to Harry. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Hermione said that you still don’t have a date to the ball?”

“Nope, as I have said over a hundred times. I was just telling the girls that I really don’t mind. It’s like that’s not normal or something. Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Harry started. “I’ve been thinking about that. It just doesn’t seem right. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not really,” said Rose, shaking her head. Harry decided to elaborate further. “I just sort of feel bad about that. You’re charming, and one of the nicest girls I know. And yet, you’re the one out of all of us that doesn’t have someone to go with. I’m sorry Rose, but there’s something wrong with that.”

“You’re setting me up for something, aren’t you Harry?” A cheeky smile tugged at the corner of Rose’s mouth. Harry sighed as he rolled his green eyes “Since Ginny couldn’t be here with me, I was wondering if you would like to go with me as my date.”

Now Rose smiled fully. Harry seemed to be going out for the friend-of-the-year award, if there ever was one. “Do you need a dance partner that badly?” she asked, her words laced with giggles.

“I – uh,” Harry stuttered briefly, shrugging his shoulders. “Well yes, but really it’s more than that. I want all my friends to have a good time tonight, and that includes you. It would kill me to see you sitting at a table by yourself while everyone else is dancing. So how about it? You and me go as friends, so neither of us has to show up alone?”

Rose thought about that proposal for a moment. She knew she was capable of having fun, never mind her personal circumstances. She had been completely prepared to make a statement in showing up alone, that you could be single and happy. And really, if she was dressed up for anyone, she was dressed up for Snape. She knew he would be there, and his were the only eyes she wanted on her. But the sentimental part of her soul really appreciated how much Harry cared about his friends, how much he cared about her. So with her own shrug and a bashful smile, Rose nodded.

“Alright,” she said, holding up a thin finger. “But just as friends. I don’t want anybody getting the wrong idea and reporting back to Ginny.”

“They won’t have to because I’m about to go write to Ginny and explain the situation.” Harry pointed up toward the boys’ dormitories. “They know better than that anyway. I wouldn’t cheat on Ginny if my life depended on it.”

“I don’t doubt that,” said Rose. She started to make her way back toward the door to the girls’ side of the tower. “The girls and I will be down in a little while. I just have to finish my makeup, put on my jewelry, and –,”

“And put on your shoes,” Harry finished for her. Rose looked down at her still bare feet and blushed.

“And put on my shoes, yes, of course.” She began to turn the door handle when she turned back. “Oh, and Harry?”

Harry turned, caught just before he too went back up to the dormitories. “Yes Rose?”

“If you show me as bad of a time as you did Parvati, I’m going to have to hurt you.”

Harry laughed heartily at that prospect. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Rose could do it, but rather that if given the choice, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. That is, unless that fly was named Pansy Parkinson or Draco Malfoy. “No need to tell me,” he told her. “I don’t need the risk of having you sick Snape on me tomorrow.”

“Who said I had to make Snape do it?” said Rose. “The way things are between he and I, if I play my cards right, he could teach me something that you won’t even see coming.” Harry playfully shuttered, making Rose laugh again. He offered one more smile and a nod to her, and the two parted ways.

Rose reentered her room to find Hermione at the vanity, carefully applying blush to her cheekbones. “So I think I’ve just solved that alleged date problem that Lavender and Parvati are so concerned about.”

“How so?” Hermione asked, speaking into the mirror. Rose leaned over to talk to her reflection. “Would you believe it? Harry just invited me to the ball.”

Hermione smiled warmly. “He did? Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“Be honest with me, Hermione,” said Rose, noticing the slight lack of excitement. “Did you know that he was going to do that?”

“Only since a few minutes ago,” admitted Hermione. “Harry was asking me all day long if anyone we knew was single, and I told him that you were. However, I did tell him that you weren’t looking for anyone. Harry understood when I mentioned Dante and the Yule Ball. But he was desperate.”

“Was I his last option?” Rose asked very cynically, but Hermione shook his head. “It wasn’t that you were his last option. It was just that he didn’t want to put you into an uncomfortable position. You understand, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Rose sighed with a weak smile. She reached over Hermione’s shoulder to grab her lipstick. She then straightened herself and crossed the room to the full-length mirror that Hermione had transfigured for them. Once she applied the last of her makeup to her lips, Rose twirled from side to side, admiring her finished look. “Done and done,” she said aloud to herself.

Hermione heard this as she finished the last of her face, causing her to look over her shoulder. She then looked back to the mirror, speaking to both her reflection and her friend. “We do look pretty good tonight, don’t we?”

“Took the words from my mouth, Mione.” said Rose. She turned back to her roommate. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” said Hermione, turning her body around.

Rose blushed a bright pink, though it was well hidden by her makeup. “Do you think that Snape will notice me tonight?”

“Notice you?” Hermione’s voice had a certain hint of curiosity to it, which further embarrassed Rose. “Yeah…do you think he’ll notice me and…and think I’m pretty?” She grabbed the silver shoes sitting at the foot of her bed and she sat down on the mattress to strap them on. Hermione sighed as she stood up and walked over to her bed. She then also sat down and began to buckle her shoes.

“I can’t speak for Snape,” she said. “I don’t know what goes in that head of his, or what he actually thinks of you. But I will say this. You could make quite a few guys turn their heads tonight. I mean, Harry has seen you already. What did he say?”

“He said I looked great,” Rose replied, and Hermione smiled. “You see? You’re not an ugly girl, and you clean up very well. Think about it, you could have Macmillan checking you out again the way you look now. Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, _All-my-affection_ will be there tonight.”

“Oh, don’t get started on him again.” Rose shook her head. “He hasn’t sent me a letter since the day that Dumbledore made the announcement about the ball. I have absolutely no idea if he’s going to be there. Besides, there’ll only be a hundred or so students there, and we’ve already eliminated half of them as suspects.”

Hermione chuckled. “You tell Lavender to give it a rest. And you ought to think about doing the same.”

Rose opened her mouth to speak when she was suddenly interrupted by a sharp tapping. Both she and Hermione looked to the tiny window between their bedside tables to see the silhouette of an owl just outside. Hermione moved quickly to open the window, and the little barn owl flapped in, coming to rest on the footboard of Rose’s bed.

“Where did you come from?” Hermione addressed the bird. She wondered if the owl had simply gotten lost on its way back to the Owlery, but then she noticed that it was holding a tiny package in its beak. “Did you bring us something?” She held out her hand, and the owl dropped the little box into it. The owl stayed still on the bed post. The package was so small that it just fit in Hermione’s palm. Obviously curious, she worked quickly to untie the rolled up note attached.

“It’s for you, Rose,” she said, handing the box and note over to the red-haired witch. Rose was skeptical about why she was getting a package so late in the evening, and in her dormitory of all places. However cautiously, she tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.

“Well, what do you know?” she said, almost to herself before beginning to read aloud for Hermione.

_“Rosie,_

_Well this is it, the night that you have been looking forward to for weeks. I apologize for sending you this letter so suddenly, and at the last minute. But I felt that I had to reach out to you in some way while I had the chance, before the festivities get started. I also wanted to help complete your look for the night. I have heard talk that you are wearing blue tonight. I know that this gift will only add to your captivating beauty. Of course, I know that you will be absolutely beautiful anyway. I hope you understand when I say that it was worth every bit of bronze._

_I hope that you and your friends have the time of your lives tonight. It isn’t very often that Hogwarts students get an opportunity for witless pleasure, and after all that you have been through, you deserve it. I don’t know what your friends and housemates have been telling you, but it doesn’t really matter whether you have a date or not. You can have a good time without that kind of stimulation. No matter what your situation might be, I only ask one thing of you, and that is to make the most of your experience. After all, you only get to have your Seventh-year Ball once._

_All my affection”_

Rose didn’t give Hermione much time to respond. She immediately started to peel away the brown paper wrapping to reveal the box inside. It was covered in soft red velvet, much like the box that her silver bracelet had come in. That suddenly made Rose nervous. She gently pried open the box, and she gasped when she saw what she saw. She held it out for Hermione to see. Inside the box was a pair of blue sapphire stud earrings, set in the brightest of silvers. The round-cut stones were almost the size of Rose’s fingernail, and they sparkled with even the dimmest of light.

Rose’s mouth hung open as she shook her head. “Unbelievable…un-fucking-believable.”

“Merlin, these look expensive!” Hermione gasped.

“They probably are,” Rose muttered in her shock. “Jewels like these don’t come from the pages of a magazine. These look like they came directly from a jeweler. He’s crazy… _All-my-affection_ is crazy!”

“Hey, he knew you were wearing a blue dress!” said Hermione, jumping up. “Who did you tell about your dress?”

“Everybody,” Rose shrugged. “Boys, girls, students, teachers, even Snape knows what I’m wearing. There’s no indication there.”

Hermione arched her eyebrow incredulously. “You told Snape what your dress looks like?”

“I told anyone who would listen, Mione,” Rose tried to explain. “And Snape happened to be listening. Really, I have a bloody crush on the guy. Why wouldn’t I tell him?”

“Good point,” said Hermione, now beginning to pace the floor. “Whoever he is, he must have some kind of money to his name if he could afford those.”

“No kidding…” Rose trailed off, staring down at the earrings. “Oh Hermione, I can’t accept these!”

“What? Why not?”

“Because this is going too far, that’s why! The gifts that he already sent me all add up to a considerable amount of gold. But this…this is just too much.”

Hermione stood to cross the short distance between beds and settled down beside Rose. “You’re not freaked out by this, are you?”

“It’s not that I’m freaked out,” Rose explained. “It’s just that I don’t know how I feel about this guy sending me such expensive things. Why would you spend this much money on a girl that you can’t speak to face to face? What are you supposed to say to that?!”

“So what are you going to do?” asked Hermione.

“Well the owl is still here.” Rose went to wrap the package up again. “I’ll just send them back.”

“Rose, no,” Hermione objected, grabbing ahold of Rose’s hands. “You can’t send the earrings back. This was an incredibly generous thing for him to do. It would break his heart if you returned them.”

Well, Rose didn’t want to do that, did she? She sighed deeply, wishing there was a way to let someone down in a nice way. But when there was this amount of money involved, all rejection was bad rejection. “Then what do you think I should do, Hermione?”

“I think you should wear them to the ball,” said the Head Girl. “It’s obvious now that he’s going to be there. You should just wear them tonight, just so he can see you wearing them.”

“What, and then send them back?”

“Not exactly,” Hermione got up and started pacing the room. “You could wear them tonight, and then keep them up hidden up here like that bracelet he gave you.”

“Either way, it makes it sound like I don’t like the earrings.” Rose inched up until she sat at the edge of the bed, the box still in her hands.

“Well, do you?” asked Hermione.

“Of course I do,” Rose shrugged. “I mean, look at them, they’re beautiful! But I feel weird taking something so nice, like I’m some kind of gold-digger or something.”

Hermione walked over to lean over Rose. “You didn’t ask _All-my-affection_ to buy them for you. He bought them for you because he wanted to, and if you ask me, that shows just how much he cares about you.”

“I still feel like I have to do something,” said Rose, looking up to meet Hermione’s brown eyes. “I can’t just let this go.”

Both girls thought about it for a while, rummaging through their minds for a way out of this uncomfortable situation. But then Hermione snapped her fingers. “I’ve got an idea,” she softly proclaimed. “Why don’t you write him a letter and then send it back with the owl? You could tell him how you feel about the earrings, and you could finally thank him for all the attention that he’s given you.”

Rose’s eyes slowly eased open as she fully comprehended the brilliance of that statement. “Oh shit,” she gaped. “Hermione, you’re a genius!”

As if on cue, Hermione crossed the room to where she kept a large stack of books and parchment, and she pulled out a sheet for Rose to write on. Rose meanwhile climbed to the foot of her bed to retrieve a quill from her schoolbag. Hermione handed her the parchment, as well as a library book to lean on. Dipping her quill into the inkwell on her nightstand, Rose thought for a moment about what she would finally say to _All-my-affection._ She wanted to be honest, but she also wanted to be nice. And more so, she wanted this boy to know that his efforts were not in vain. So throwing caution to the wind, she started writing.

_To whomever it may concern (otherwise known as All-my-affection),_

_I just wish to thank you for your kindness and for your generosity these past several weeks. If your intent was to brighten my day, you did that and then some. However, it is not necessary to purchase such extravagant gifts. It truly is the thought that counts, and I don’t really need such opulence. Whoever you are, you have shown me a great deal of appreciation when I needed it most, and I am most grateful for such thoughtfulness in what have been some pretty bleak days._

_Yours truly,_

_Rosella “Rosie” Beckett_

Once she was finished, Rose didn’t stop to consider what she had written. She didn’t even hand over the parchment for Hermione to see. She simply folded up the letter, rose from her bed and tied it to the waiting owl’s leg. “I need you to take this to the wizard who sent you,” she told it, and Hermione pushed the window open again. With that, the little bird flew off into the night again.

“So that’s that,” Rose said to Hermione as they watched the owl swoop around the tower and out of sight.

“But that still leaves the earrings,” Hermione reminded, pointing to the red box on the bed. Rose’s face contorted in her slight stress, and Hermione stepped forward, tapping her shoulder. “Wear them, just for tonight. I don’t care what you do with them afterward, but take a chance just this once.”

Rose thought for a moment, picking up the box to look down at the earrings. She then sighed and walked over to sit down at the vanity. Slowly and gently, she took out her usual silver earrings and replaced them with her new sapphire ones. She then sat still to admire her reflection. She smiled. “You know Hermione, I really wish I knew who this guy is. Because whoever it is, he has great taste.”

Hermione came up behind her and looked into the mirror. “You know what I think? He was right. Those earrings complete your look. It’s a wonder what one little thing can do.”

“Mione, you slay me,” said Rose with a hesitant grin. She got up and went over to her trunk. Opening the top half, she pulled out the small wooden box that she kept all of her jewelry in. She stuck her hand in and retrieved the silver bracelet. Rose then stowed away her jewels again and strolled over to Hermione, fastening the bracelet around her wrist. “I hope he shows himself tonight. Then at least I could thank him in person.”

“He really makes you feel special. You ought to thank him for that.” Hermione smiled. Rose was about to go put her make up away when Hermione grabbed her wrist. The Head girl surprised Rose by reaching for her wand and then taking the little heart-shaped charm in her fingers. She muttered a quiet charm, and Rose watched as the words ‘All my affection’ were engraved into the silver. Hermione then spoke again.

“I think that something really good can come out of this, Rose. I’ve got the strongest feeling that this guy is going to tell you who his, maybe tonight. And who knows, maybe it could become something more. You’ve been through enough the last two years. You deserve to have someone who cherishes you like that.  Besides, he takes your mind off of Snape for a while.”

Rose groaned through her blushed smile. “Don’t do that, Hermione. Leave Snape out of this, he’s got nothing to do with it.”

“But you admit it, don’t you.” Hermione’s voice lapsed into that familiar know-it-all tone “If you had the chance to go to this ball with Snape, you would.”

Rose looked at Hermione and her face told that she had no shame in saying, “In a heartbeat.”

**~HP~**

Standing in front of the mirror mounted on his door, Severus took a long moment to look himself over. His dress robes were fitting properly, and Severus had already placed a light Glamour Charm on his abdomen to conceal his baby bump. It wasn’t a great deal of difference, probably because there hadn’t been much weight to hide in the first place. But it did hide the fact that the weight Severus was gaining was centered around his middle. Did he look healthy? Yes, much healthier than back in September. But did he look pregnant? No.

He looked over to his bedside table, where Rose’s letter now sat. He didn’t expect a response when he sent that owl up to Gryffindor tower, and he was slightly disappointed by the response that he got. But Severus tried to see the good in this situation, not wanting to give into his negative tendencies. She might have been slightly turned off by the lavishness of the earrings, but she did not return them with the owl. She kept that token of affection, right along with the others. And above all, she thanked him for the affection. She was grateful even! She might not wear the earrings that night, but she appreciated what he did for her.

For once, Severus was hoping that he would not cross paths with his beloved Rosie. That way, she wouldn’t have to see his utter elation mixed together with a definite nervousness.

**~HP~**

A few of the younger, more curious Gryffindors had gathered around their common room to see off their peers. It wasn’t that they were genuinely happy to see the Seventh years heading to a fancy party that they were not invited to, but more rather to see what they looked like after unnecessary hours of preparation. Those who were still green with envy decided to study in the quiet of their dormitories.

Harry, Ron, and Dean all stood by the entrance to the stairwell. Dean was pacing the floor, looking terribly nervous. Ron, dressed in robes of rich blue velour, leaned against the wall, twiddling his fingers in a much more relaxed fashion. And Harry stood before a wall mirror, blinking and fixing his hair with a small black comb that he kept in his inside pocket. Neville and Seamus had already left, headed in the direction of Ravenclaw tower. They had agreed that they would meet Luna and Padma halfway between the two common rooms.

The girls appeared just as Harry tucked away his comb. Young girls voiced their admiration of their older counterparts with whispered oohs. Dean was the first to step forward, rather proudly at that. With a flick of his wand, he produced a single rose for Parvati, yellow to match her dress. Another flick turned it into a corsage around her left wrist.

Ron looked over to see Hermione approaching him, and his first response was for his eyes to widen and his jaw to drop open. He was absolutely astounded by how beautiful he looked. It was as though he was staring into the face of an angel. So naturally, he greeted his girlfriend with a deep and definitely inappropriate kiss.

Harry and Rose watched this public display of affection and shuddered. Rose wanted to say something coy, like that they needed to come up for air or that Hermione shouldn’t ruin her lipstick. But she contained herself for the moment. Instead she turned to Harry with a smirk. “Now I kind of feel bad that Ginny’s not here.”

“Don’t worry, if I can manage three months away from her, I can manage three more weeks.” Harry stepped forward and offered his arm to a jokingly suspicious Rose. “Shall we?”

Rose grinned, suppressing the desire to laugh as she hooked her elbow with Harry’s. “We shall,” she answered. And with Harry and Rose leading the way, the three well-dressed couples left the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd just make this shameless admission. The description of the jeweler is modeled after Benedict Cumberbatch, aka my fantasy husband. Kudos if you're part of the CumberCollective!


	45. An unforgettable night

Upon entering the Great hall, the students were greeted by the warm sight of lush red and gold tapestries that draped the walls and windows. Like the Yule Ball, the four long tables had disappeared to be replaced with several round tables, all of which were covered by velvet tablecloths of the richest color, with two tables for each of the house colors. Two slightly larger tables would serve as places for the staff. The head table meanwhile had been replaced by a small orchestra that would be made up of younger students, those who had a satisfactory amount of musical talent. Fine china was set out at every last place, along with pristinely polished silver and glass goblets. And above the tables and high over heads, shimmering gold candles hovered weightlessly in the air.

The professors had already gathered together at their tables when the students arrived. Though a few of them would much rather be somewhere else, they were all there, decked out and ready to get on with the evening. And so therefore, right from the very moment that Rose strode into the hall on Harry’s arm, she knew that Snape was already there. Letting Harry lead her, she looked over every face up there, and her searching eye quickly found him sitting next to a placidly chipper Lupin.

Rose couldn’t help but get an intense case of butterflies when she got a good look at the Potions master. In Rose’s youthful, lovesick opinion, Snape looked undoubtedly sexy in his sleek, black dress robes. Even from such a far distance, she could tell that they hadn’t been worn once. He could have bought them the day before, they looked so new. His hair also had the particular, clean shine left over after a wash. His exterior was calm, but Rose could see a slight hint of unease in his face. She figured – no, she knew – that he was one of those teachers whose idea of a pleasant evening did not include this large social gathering, and he was just anxious to get the whole thing over with. Hopefully, he would relax a little bit as the night wore on.

Harry, Hermione, and their respective partners were the first to claim one of the scarlet covered tables and they settled themselves down into their seats. They then waited to see who else they would be sharing a meal with. No more than five minutes had passed when Lavender, in all her pink, sparkly glory, came over to them with Justin Finch-Fletchly holding her by the waist. She asked in a deliberately and obnoxiously cute way if they could take two of the unoccupied seats. Harry and Rose both looked in Hermione’s direction, looking to her for permission. They both saw a face that basically spelled out surrender, although there was a strong glimmer in the corner of her brown eye that could have growled out for Lavender to go away. Despite that, she nodded, and the couple sat down. They were later joined by Neville and Luna.

They all let their gazes freely wander around the hall, taking in their surroundings. They were finally getting a good look at the couplings of their fellow year-mates which had done well to cause such a fuss the last few days. They saw Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot sitting at the same table, though they had other people with them as their dates. Dean and Seamus were quite comfortably chatting with a group of Ravenclaws a few feet away. And much to their relief, they saw that Malfoy and Parkinson, in their matching black and white, had taken a table on the complete opposite side of the room. If luck was on their side, the two Slytherins would hopefully do everything in their power to avoid them. Their already bright night suddenly managed to get a little brighter.

Once everyone had found their friends, picked their tables, and sat down, Dumbledore stood up from his seat and walked in front of the two head tables. He raised his hands to the students, his ice-blue robes moving with the motion.

“Welcome everyone, Seventh years and guests. We are all immensely delighted to have you all here tonight for this joyous event. You are the first group of students to attend the Seventh-year Ball since the class of 1978, and as I have said a great many times these past few months, I sincerely hope that you all realize how fortunate you are. In days past, it brought me great joy to see the happiness and excitement this tradition brought to my students. And there is no better time to revive such a happy tradition than after such a dark time in our history. In my view, this ball is the first real celebration of life after the chaos of war. But more than that, I hope that you see tonight as a time to celebrate your youth. You are adults in the eyes of our society, and many of you have had to grow up far too quickly. But that should not mean that you have to give up the witless pleasure that comes so naturally to the young. So give next year’s students something to look forward to, and help to make this a wonderful celebration for years to come! Let loose, eat, dance, and have a wonderful time!”

The entire room erupted into applause and cheers, and the headmaster waited a moment before clapping his hands together. “Now, our wonderful House-elves have created a splendid feast for us tonight, but before we indulge, let us have our first dance of the evening. May our Head Boy and Girl please step up first?”

Harry and Hermione rose from their seats, prompting some sparse applause. Hermione could have dragged Ron out onto the floor, his reluctance clearly showing. Rose however didn’t need to be as man-handled. She followed Harry out with a smile on her face, albeit a nervous one. Once out in the middle of the wide dance floor, the two couples struck their poses in silence. Harry and Rose faced each other, Harry taking her hand and placing a gentle hand on her waist. Rose rested her free hand on Harry’s shoulder. The two of them could see that Hermione and Ron had become their mirror image. They waited as the student orchestra readied themselves.

“Do I have to lead?” Rose whispered.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” said Harry, and then the music began.

Rose had been expecting that dancing with Harry would be something akin to dancing with a startled horse. But she suddenly found herself almost swept off her feet, partly because Harry had pulled her that way. At least she could keep up with her green-eyed Prince Charming, and in no time, the two of them were gliding across the floor in perfect time with the music. Harry appeared to have practiced. So had Ron, who was practically floating around the dance floor, Hermione a mere accessory. The awkward fourteen year-old boys at the Yule Ball were no more. They almost didn’t notice the circle of people that had suddenly surrounded the floor.

“Look at you,” Rose smirked at Harry, making him blush slightly. “Where did this come from, Potter?”

“I had Neville give me a few lessons,” said Harry. “It took a few hours, and there were a few awkward moments in the dormitories, but it was worth it!” Rose bit her lip to stifle her laugh, but Harry just smiled and shook his head at her as he swept her past Ron and Hermione so quickly, the girls’ hems barely touched.

It took a while for the four of them to notice that two more had joined them. Dumbledore and McGonagall were waltzing together, their robes sweeping the floor. Since the headmaster and his deputy were now taking part, many to this as a signal to go. Many more pairs wandered out onto the dance floor, proudly showing off their dancing abilities, however limited they might have been. Everywhere you turned, you were faced with a smile, some nervous, some giddy. But on a whole, there was an air of joy on that full dance floor.

Sitting unmoved at one of the head tables, Severus watched the sea of people. He saw kids colliding with each other, the flinches the girls gave when their bare toes were stepped on. And he surveyed his fellow teachers proving that while they were a worldly bunch of people, they did not know the first thing about ballroom dancing. But as much as he would have liked to let his eyes wander all about the room, his attention was always drawn back to one couple. He watched as Rose, guided by Harry, floated from one side of the hall to the other, parting the crowd as they went.

Severus’s breath was nearly stolen away by how beautiful she was. Her dark blue dress caught the light, enhancing the fairness of her skin to an almost pure glow. Her hair, her gorgeous red hair, really was in its prime if she could make it look like that. Soft curls would fall around her shoulders with every turn she made, though not a strand fell over her face. And every time Severus caught a glimpse of that face, he saw that makeup only enhanced her natural beauty. Her blue eyes were sparkling gems that just popped with the help of eyeliner. A stunningly bright smile lay across her face as she looked happily at Harry.

But that’s when Severus’s awe gave way to a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

What was Rose doing with Harry Potter? Rose was supposed to be dateless. Even the day before, she made no indication that anything had changed. And as far as he knew, Potter was still dating one Ginevra Weasley, and had every intention of having her there that night. What the hell happened? What could have possibly happened that led Potter to dance with a close female friend? A swarm of questions and thoughts flew through Severus’s head. But not once did his eyes leave the object of his affection. He watched Rose as she twirled and whirled in Harry’s arms. She occasionally looked as though she was being pushed and pulled as opposed to guided and led. But her enthusiasm never failed and the smile never left her face. She was having a grand old time with Boy-Wonder.

“They all look like they’re having fun.” Severus heard Remus say as he took the seat to his left. The DADA professor had been watching the dancing from the edge of the floor, coming back to the table after only a few short minutes.

“I suppose,” Severus droned, his eyes returning to try and pick out Rose in the crowd again.

“You seem down,” Remus commented. Severus just sneered at the werewolf, causing Remus to sigh. “I know. It’s not much fun to watch people dancing together when you don’t have a partner, is it?”

“I could get a partner if I wanted to, and I don’t. And if you’re so dispirited about that, why don’t you go ask Cassandra?” Severus suggested, subtly pointing to where the Muggle Studies teacher was standing next to Filius. “The woman has practically been on her toes since she got here.”

“I’d rather not,” said Remus, shaking his head. “I’m more content to watch for now. I don’t think I’m quite ready to dance with other women yet.”

Wait…Remus. Potter practically thought of him as a father in the morbid absence of his own father and Sirius Black. He might have some clue about what was going on in this strange turn of events in Severus’s deeply secret world. The Potions professor took a breath in. “I thought Potter was seeing the Weasley girl.”

“He is,” said Remus, quite matter-of-factly.

“Then why, pray tell, is he out there with Rose Beckett?”

“Oh, he found a date!” Remus smiled as he looked out, spotting Rose and Harry. “Poor Harry got a letter this morning. It seems Ginny couldn’t make it after all. He was telling me about how he felt like he had to have a date, you know, being Head Boy and all.”

“And so he finds Miss Beckett…”

“I suppose so. I’m actually surprised. I was under the impression that if Beckett didn’t have a date by tonight, then there must have been a reason for it. But I suppose it could have been worse. At least they’re here with a good friend.”

“True,” Severus disregarded that evident fact. Actually, he really wasn’t listening that much. He was too distracted by Rose’s cheerful face and the ever present sparkle in her eyes.

The music ended and all returned to their seats. Rose laughed with Harry as they walked back toward their table. But just before she sat down, she looked up to the head tables and met Snape’s eyes. Like she was oblivious to her surroundings, she threw him a warm and beautiful smile. Severus recognized this as her way of saying, “Good evening Professor.” The corners of his mouth twitched up into a small, subtle smile, though not obvious enough for his colleagues to notice. Across the room, Rose beamed as she sat down. Even though Severus suddenly discovered yet another reason to despise Potter, he was glad to see Rose so happy.

**~HP~**

Dumbledore was not kidding when he said that the feast would be splendid! Because what should appear upon every last one of the tables but an elaborate selection of juicy turkeys and hams, perfectly cooked vegetables, and the warmest breads anyone had the privilege to bite into. Though the students had been denied the stiff drink they had been hoping for, they were offered an endless supply of butterbeer, as well as a variety of wine substitutes so they could at least pretend that they were drinking. There were also several clever spells put in place to keep plates and goblets full. Nobody would be leaving the Great hall feeling the slightest bit hungry.

But as soon as everyone had finished eating, the attention turned back to the dance floor. The rest of the evening’s entertainment was to be provided by a new Wizarding rock band whose music had been sweeping the magical airwaves in recent weeks. While they were popular with a mass majority of students, their music style was not the quietest. Actually, they were so loud that they rattled the glass of Hogwarts’ ancient windows. Yet they somehow managed to keep a decipherable melody that made the students totally lose their minds. The dancing that they now demonstrated was much more raucous, and much more tightly contained. Boys and girls were rubbing up against each other, not caring one bit how suggestive it might have looked. Any caution or anxiety they might have had was thrown completely by the wayside as they jerked, swayed, bounced, and screamed.

Severus stood in a remote corner away from the other teachers, watching this rapturous moshing to the increasingly louder music. Dear God, was this what kids listened to these days? He didn’t remember the music of his schooldays being anything like this nonsense. Oh, it only got worse when the band started playing what turned out to be covers of the latest Muggle hits. All in all, Severus tried tune out the headache-inducing blare of noise as he intently watched Rose interact with her friends. She was near the middle of the crowd, bopping between different people, laughing all the while. But she mostly stayed close to Potter, dancing mere inches away from his body.

A strong tension began to build up inside Severus. The closer Rose got to Potter, the worse it got. Every time he saw her hand grasp his shoulder, every time he saw Potter grab hold of her waist, Severus felt that harsh burning in the pit of his stomach. He actually had to shove his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were close to a tremble. He didn’t want anyone to be that close to Rose, but Potter was the last person he wanted to ever touch Rose. He claimed to have a girlfriend? It sure didn’t look like it the way he was letting his hands travel over Rose’s arms and waist. And to his horror, Rose actually allowed it. In fact, she was reaching for him just as much, if not more. There had to be something going on between those two. It took everything Severus had to stay put, to resist the impulse to tear Potter’s hands off for touching his girl.

In that moment, Severus could have found himself twenty years younger, watching as James Potter caressed Lily on a crowded dance floor, feeling that same burn of jealousy.

The song ended, giving the students a chance to take a breather before the next set. Beaming, Rose laughed with Granger and Weasley. But then she swiftly turned herself back to Potter and thrust herself into his arms for a tight embrace. With a smile of his own, Potter hugged her back.

That was when Severus stormed out of the Great hall through a side door. He just couldn’t watch anymore.

The outside corridor was dark, a stark contrast to the warm golden hall. It was also filled with a silence that was only broken by the echo of music. To his relief, no one else was around. He was so desperate for privacy that he wasn’t sure if he had time to go looking for it. Severus kept his back to the door and leaned against the wall. Then he let himself go. Hot tears filled his deep obsidian eyes, angry tears that burned his skin as they ran down his face. He felt like his heart was being contorted into a knot while being physically ripped out of his chest. His right hand pressed to his head, a useless attempt to regain control.

He cursed himself for not expecting this. Rose may have been single, but that didn’t mean that she would be single forever. And Severus was not the last man on the planet. He should have foreseen the prospect of Rose being with someone else, no matter how innocent people claimed it to be. But just seeing her so close to Harry was enough to make his blood boil. That just couldn’t happen. He just couldn’t let the woman he loved be stolen by a Potter again.

He wished to high heaven that he could have blamed these tears on pregnancy hormones. But how could he when he had done the exact same thing twenty years ago when he caught sight of Lily with James? But at least back then, he had a chance. It may have been slim, but a chance all the same. With Rose, reality was always there to crush all of Severus’s hopes to ever be with her. She was two full decades younger. She was more interested in people her own age. And Severus had to admit that she would ultimately end up with someone her own age. He just so desperately wished it didn’t have to be that way.

“Professor Snape?”

Severus froze at the voice. He quickly dabbed his eyes dry before he turned around. Rose stood in the doorway, the light from the Great hall reflecting off her face. Severus didn’t know how to react to her appearance to him; she had no reason to be there after all. But he put on a straight face and sighed. “Rose…what are you doing here?”

“I saw you rush out of the hall,” Rose replied. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

Severus couldn’t stop the slight smirk. Of all things Rose could have done, she had to care. She probably tore herself away from her friends to seek him out, and her warm expression meant that she did it willingly. She stepped into the dark corridor, leaving the door open.

“I’m alright, Rose,” he said, struggling to conceal his still lingering heartache. It was difficult to feel any other way now that she was standing before him, as gorgeous as she ever was. Even in the dark, her eyes sparkled, even though her makeup was beginning to rub off and run.

“Are you sure? You seemed to rush out quickly. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes. I just couldn’t stand that white noise you brats seem to call music.”

Rose laughed, shaking her head. “Trust me, sir. You get used to it after a while.”

“If you say so.” As much as he didn’t want to do it, Severus realized that he had to confront the hippogriff in the room. And there was just no better time than that moment, while Rose was there and listening. “I thought you said you didn’t have a date.”

“Oh, Harry asked me like thirty minutes before we came down. We’re having a good time.”

“I’m sure you are…but…but Potter?”

“What about him?” Rose wrinkled her eyebrows, almost as though she had been insulted.

“It’s nothing, Rose.”

“Professor…” Rose cocked her head in Snape’s direction. Evidently, she knew that he had something to say and that it wasn’t kind. And if that wasn’t enough, she wanted to hear it. She arched her eyebrow with a smirk, just daring Snape to be blunt and honest.

“Alright Rose,” said Severus. “It’s hardly my business to say, but judging from what I saw out there, I would say that you and Potter are friendlier than you let on.”

To Severus’s surprise, Rose laughed, slipping into her higher, almost cackling pitch. “Professor Snape, are you trying to say that you think Harry and I are dating?”

“In so few words,” Severus muttered. Rose laughed harder, yet not so loud that people outside could hear. Severus didn’t know whether to be relieved or embarrassed at this blatant amusement.

“Oh my! Sir, it’s nothing like that,” said Rose. “Believe me, Harry and I are just friends. I’m not even attracted to the guy. And even if I was, he’s too into Ginny to even consider me – or anyone else for that matter.”

“Really? Because you wouldn’t think that based on his behavior tonight.”

“We’re just having fun, we all are. I mean, Goyle’s practically groping Parkinson out there and Malfoy is not paying a bit of attention. Even they pulled those sticks out of their arses.”

Subtly, Severus studied Rose’s face. She definitely did appear honest, but he still wasn’t so sure. “So you mean to tell me that you and Potter have absolutely no romantic feelings towards each other?”

“I believe that I made that pretty clear. Harry and I are friends, and will be nothing more than friends. Harry’s girlfriend couldn’t make it. He’s Head Boy, and he was embarrassed. I just did him a favor.” She took a few steps closer. “And besides, have you seen what Ginny Weasley can do when she’s angry? I _do not_ want to be on the wrong end of her wand.”

Severus nodded and looked down to the floor, now terribly embarrassed by this whole conversation. Unbelievable, he thought to himself. He just did to Rose what he had done to so many others; he judged her too quickly, based simply on what he saw, and he jumped to a conclusion. He knew Rose so well; he knew that she wasn’t like that. Hell, he knew the reason why she was still single when she had ample opportunity not to be! How could he let petty jealousy cloud his better sense?

But Rose didn’t sound offended. She didn’t even look offended. Seeing this, Severus tried to silently breathe away his humiliation. All he had left to cling to was the hope that Rose would take this completely for what it was, and that was a simple, stupid misunderstanding. The last thing he would want would be for her to think that this was meant to be an attack on her sensuality.

“I have to say Professor,” said Rose, causing Severus to look back up. He noticed a peculiar, enticing tweak in her brow. “You look good tonight.”

Severus could feel his heart skip a beat at the compliment. He had often imagined hearing Rose say something along that line about his appearance, and yet he didn’t know how to react to it actually happening. He could barely even smile as he searched his mind for a response. “Yes,” he mumbled. “It seems that since I was forced to be here tonight, your Head of House deemed it necessary to set me up with new robes.”

“Well, Professor McGonagall was right. She usually is if you didn’t know.” Severus smirked at the cocky confidence in the statement. Rose was not what he would call a typical Gryffindor, but she was still a Gryffindor through and through.

“Enough about me, Rose.” In trying to shake the attention off of himself, Severus found that he just couldn’t resist the urge to say what he had been thinking all night. “I’m sure that I’m not the first to say this, but you look beautiful.”

“You really think so?” asked Rose, her features softening along with her voice. In that short instance, Rose’s face was akin to a small child, still innocent and full of hope. She came closer, and there was a visible light that reflected off of her. Severus was filled with quiet joy now that he saw that Rose was wearing the sapphire earrings. He let himself get lost in his reveries for a split second before he remembered that she was waiting for an answer.

“Yes, all that prepping and talking you have been doing the past several days seems to have paid off. I don’t mean to say that you are not lovely as you are, you simply look exceptionally lovely tonight.”

Rose giggled with absolute glee. Racing Parkinson to the dress was worth it! It was so worth it, she would have killed her Slytherin rival if she had to! “Thank you Professor! It means a lot to hear you say that. I mean, my classmates are one thing, but to get it from you is just…it’s great to hear.”

“And we’ll leave it at that,” said Severus. “Now go, don’t worry about me.”

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Rose asked one more time.

“Quite,” Severus motioned for Rose to leave. “Get out of here.”

“Alright. Evening Professor.” She turned to leave.

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” said Severus. Rose turned and beamed at him. “Thank you, sir.” And with that, Rose disappeared through the door, the smile still gracing her face.

Severus turned back away from the door. He sighed as he leaned against the wall. Rose really was a beautiful person, inside and out. The Gryffindor deserved all the respect in the world for taking such an awkward moment and singlehandedly reducing the tension. She had the care and compassion in her heart to leave her friends to seek him out to make sure of his wellbeing. And on top of that, she thought he looked good! She said something that Severus thought that he would never hear! God, how he loved her!

And for now, he would have to trust her word. If Rose said that nothing was going on between her and Potter, then it was probably true. It had to be true now that Severus had the capacity to mentally compare Potter with the late Dante Macleod; the differences between the two boys were too dramatic. And if there was one thing that he had to continue to do, it was to not use Legilimency on Rose in any way.  Rose was an honest young lady, and he trusted her on many levels. But the last thing Severus wanted to do was to invade her mind and find that she was hiding one ugly lie. As far as the Potions master was concerned, the best thing he could do was to hang on to that image of that faultless dream that was his Rosie.

“Severus?” This time, it was Remus who came looking for him. Severus turned to him with a stern glare. “What do you want, Lupin?”

The werewolf pushed the door open to stand in the archway, not taking his hand off the rusted handle. “I wanted to see where you had run off to. Are you feeling alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” Severus droned, finally moving off his place on the wall. “I needed a break from the music.”

“Music? This isn’t music.” Remus laughed as Severus stepped back into the light. He stepped aside to let the Potions master back into the Great hall, and the two wizards strolled back to their table. “So tell me Severus, since when were you on a first name basis with Beckett?”

Severus almost stopped in his tracks. Not once during his conversation with Rose had he thought that someone could have been eavesdropping.  “Ah, you heard,” he said curtly. “Not very long.” Almost a month counted as not very long, right?

“Ai,” Remus chuckled as they sat down again. “She must be a bloody good brewer if you call her by her first name.”

Severus sighed his discontent at his colleague’s sprightly tone. “Remus, you know that she’s brilliant. I don’t know how she is in your class, but she’s one of my best students at the moment.”

“Brilliant? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you calling any student outside of Slytherin brilliant.”

“That’s just what I think.”

Remus laughed again, and Severus just glared at him out of the corner of his obsidian eye. The werewolf brushed it off; he had long since built up an immunity to Snape’s death stare. “What did she want before?” he asked.

“Apparently, she just wanted to see why I left the room,” Severus explained. “She asked me if I was alright, I told her yes, and then I sent her on her way.”

Remus smiled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. She really is a nice girl, you have to give her that.”

“A nice girl with a bad temper,” said Severus, pointing out a fact that was becoming less and less relevant as time went on.

“That’s true, but she makes up for that in kindness,” said Remus. “With all the work you’ve done with her, I doubt she would have needed any prompting. She really admires you, you know.”

“I’ve had my suspicions.” Severus’s voice trailed off as he picked out Rose standing by the drinks table with Potter and his dream team.

“I’m serious, Severus,” Remus urged. “I’ve heard her talking about you with Harry and Hermione. I haven’t heard one nasty remark in weeks. She actually talks about you quite a bit, Harry tells me.”

“She’s overzealous in her studies,” said Severus, trying to come up with a logical reason for such an occurrence.

“I’ve heard that she spends more time with you than with Cassandra.”

“I seem to recall Beckett saying something about how Cassandra is not Charity.”

Remus nodded slowly. That did make quite a bit of sense, judging from what he had heard of Rose’s past experiences with Muggle Studies. “Oh, I see. But it’s funny how highly she speaks of you. I never would have expected this back in September, her going from cursing you out in the middle of a lesson to practically becoming your apprentice. If I didn’t know any better, I would say the girl had some sort of strange fancy for you.”

Alright, that was enough! Severus was not going to sit there and let Remus make senseless comments about something Severus already struggled with, joke about something that he wished was true. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’m sure that Beckett has higher standards than that. But as far as being a mentor is concerned, I cannot honestly say that I mind it.”

“Why don’t you just admit it?” said Remus. “You must care about that girl a little bit. If you didn’t, I doubt that you would be putting so much time and effort into her progress.”

“She’s just another student,” said Severus, staring off into the distance. Oh, that was bullshit if he had ever heard it!

**~HP~**

Immersed in the party around her, time seemed to blur together for Rose. She didn’t think for even a second to ask how late it was. Her attentions for the evening were instead focused on everything surrounding her. She spread herself around the crowd, partying with a wide variety of people. She danced her limbs off with Ron and Hermione, and she leaned on Harry for support. And they stayed out there for most of the night. Other than her encounter with Snape in the side corridor, the only time Rose left the dance floor was when the music slowed down and the dancing got much closer. As much as she liked Harry, neither of them could bring themselves to a slow dance. That was a nasty rumor that they did not want to create for themselves! That being said, Rose decided that it would be a better idea not to tell Harry about how Snape had seen them together and drew the wrong conclusion.

But as seamless as it might have been, time did pass. The mass of students began to gradually break up, and people started hobbling up to bed. And before Rose really knew it, she was the last Gryffindor standing.

Harry had already gone back up to Gryffindor tower when Rose left the Great hall. But instead of following her date’s example, she walked through the massive Hogwarts doors and went outside. As ironic as it sounded, Rose felt that she needed some time alone after the day’s nonstop human interaction. She needed to get away from the noise and the stimulation while she had the chance. And by that time of night, there was no more solitary place than the snow-covered courtyard.

Wrapped in the soft shawl she had transfigured from a napkin, she sat peacefully on a wall. She twirled the ends of her red hair, which was beginning to lose its curl. Though the winter cold made her shoulders quiver, she still wouldn’t go inside. For all its snow and ice, it was an uncommonly beautiful night. The sky was the perfect shade of midnight blue, rather appropriate for the approaching hour. And the stars shined with an impeccable sparkle. There was simply nowhere to look but up. Rose hadn’t seen many nights like this, not many that she cared to remember. But it was always these sorts of starry nights that brought her the greatest sense of peace, though they also worked to tug at her fragile heart.

**_~Flashback~_ **

_Shivers shot up Rose’s spine as she sat on the frozen stone of the courtyard wall. She could feel the corset of her copper-colored dress constricting her torso when she went to lean in over herself to better conserve her body heat. And since her hair was done up in a neat bun on the crown of her head, her neck and back were exposed to the nippy air. If Rose had known just how cold it was that night, she might not have agreed to escape outside. But there weren’t many places to escape to in amidst the controlled chaos of the Yule Ball, which was still in full swing inside. The rumbling beat of the Weird Sisters’ music could still be heard coming from the Great hall._

_“Here, allow me.” Rose looked over her shoulder in time to see Dante pull the cape of his dress robes off. He then wrapped it around her shoulders to help keep her warm._

_“Thanks,” said Rose with an appreciative smile. “I knew I should have let my mum send me the matching wrap.”_

_“Hey, we all have our moments of vanity,” Dante leered as he sat down beside her. “If only beauty had a more practical function in life.”_

_Rose couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course a boy as inherently handsome as Dante would think something like that. “You’re not too cold, are you?”_

_“Me? Nah, I’m fine. Really Rose, I don’t mind. I’ve still got sleeves, and you don’t. You need it more than I do.” Again, Rose smiled her thanks, wrapping the pewter fabric around her torso._

_Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of blasting and flying leaves, followed by shocked cries and disgruntled growls. Hearing this, the two fourteen year-olds glanced at each other with a smirk. “Sounds like Snape found the lovebirds,” said Rose, trying her best not to laugh._

_Dante did laugh, but that was alright considering it was his Head of House. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if he found Tiggins out there. I haven’t seen him all night.”_

_“I have,” Rose said with a visible shrug. “I think he dumped the girl that he dumped me for. I saw him leaving with some girl from Beauxbatons.”_

_“Oi Rose, I think you really dodged a hex there,” said Dante. “You’re way better off without him.” To Rose, it wasn’t all that necessary to hear this affirmation, purely for the fact that it was probably the ninety-fifth time Dante had said it since her little date fiasco. But it was adorable that he would go to the trouble to cement it into her head._

_They were quiet for another minute, watching their puffs of breath on the winter air before Dante spoke again. “So tell me Rose, are you having a good time tonight?”_

_“I am,” Rose nodded. “Though not as much fun as others, I reckon.”_

_“What do you mean by that?” asked Dante._

_“Well, Hermione Granger has to be having a grand old time in there.” Rose shrugged her shoulders, but Dante just shook his head. “I don’t really see why. The two of you seem pretty equal to me.”_

_“Getting to dance with a Quidditch star probably gives her night a significant boost.”_

_“Oh come on,” Dante sneered. “What about me? Am I that bad?”_

_“No, no, don’t be ridiculous,” said Rose. “But forgive me if I’m a little bit jealous. I mean, Hermione never said anything about Victor Krum. How the hell did she pull that off?”_

_“Krum is so overrated,” Dante shook his head. “If Granger likes him, then more power to her. But believe me Rose, you have nothing to be jealous of.”_

_“Elaborate please,” Rose said, cocking her eyebrow at her friend. Dante ran his fingers through his thick brown hair as he spoke. “Just because you haven’t caught the attentions of a celebrity doesn’t mean that you’re invisible. I mean, you had Tiggins’ attention for a while, even if he does have the mental capacity of an alley rat. You’re a pretty girl; it will come back to you sooner or later.”_

_“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”_

_“Come here,” Dante reached out to Rose and pulled her in closer by her shoulder. He pointed up to the clear sky. “Do you see that star up there?”_

_Rose looked up and followed Dante’s thin, white finger. He pointed to a small, shimmering star that hovered just to the side of a crescent moon. “Yes, I do,” she replied, tilting her head to the side._

_“That star might be easy to miss because it is so close to the moon. But it is still a beautiful star. You just have to look a little harder in order to see it. And the same holds true in real life. Remember that, Rose.”_

_There was a strange feeling in the pit of Rose’s stomach as she looked up into Dante’s bright blue eyes. And strangely enough, it seemed to be telling her to move in closer to her best friend. Very slowly, she inched closer and leaned into Dante’s shoulder, allowing him to wrap his strong arm around her to further warm her cold body._

**_~End flashback~_ **

Who would have thought, Rose pondered to herself, that those strange feelings would be the beginnings of young love? Who would have guessed she would find herself in the same spot, four years older and four years wiser, at a different ball, in a different dress? And who could have foreseen that she would be staring up at that very same star, all alone?

But she didn’t want to feel sad every time she saw that little star by the moon. Dante had intended that star to represent something good, to represent those of unsung splendor…perhaps even to represent her. He meant all the good in his heart when he made the comparison, and he wouldn’t want for her to get upset every time Rose laid eyes on it on a cloudless night.

She was still admiring Dante’s star when suddenly she felt two steady hands rest on her shivering shoulders. She jumped slightly, catching a yelp in her throat. She quickly turned to find Snape looking down on her. “A bit cold, are we?” he said. Rose sighed her relief and smiled at him.

“Professor Snape…” she said, unable to get any more words out.

“What are you doing out here alone?” asked Snape. Rose turned her body to face the Potions master. “Oh, Harry went up to bed already. I just wanted to be by myself for a little while before I did the same.”

Snape stepped back a bit before speaking again. “Well, unless I’m wrong, and I know I’m not, this dance was supposed to end at midnight. That was fifteen minutes ago.”

“Was it?” asked Rose. She knew that she had lost track of time, but it amazed her that she had let it go for that long. “It really doesn’t feel like it.”

“Well, it is,” said Snape, allowing Rose to slide off her seat on the wall. “And it is my duty to see to it that all my students are in their proper place at their designated curfew. You are certainly not exempt from that. Come, walk with me.”

Rose wrinkled her brow. “What?” she said, her tone betraying her slight befuddlement.

“Let me walk you back up to your common room, just so you don’t get caught by someone else on the way. You wouldn’t want to get into trouble, would you?”

“Aw, thanks Professor,” Rose smiled, wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I owe you one.”

“Why yes, you do,” Snape said sarcastically, guiding Rose back toward the door. “After all, I don’t have to do this. In fact, I could point you in Filch’s direction if I wanted to.”

Rose chuckled. “Professor, you love me. You wouldn’t do that.”

Severus winced at Rose’s tragically ironic choice of words. But his step did not falter as the two of them started up the steps together.

The castle was eerily quiet that late hour. It seemed that the only person who should be making any noise at all was Rose, if not for the fact that she had stopped on one step to unbuckle her silver high heels and now carried them in her hands. Snape looked at her and asked if walking on hard stone on bare feet hurt at all. “Believe me, my feet hurt more with the shoes on,” Rose replied with a giggle. A little wink told the Potions master that bedtime preparations would include a powerful cleansing spell on her feet.

For quite some time after, Severus chose to stay quiet. Even at that hour, there were still a great many who could be privy to their small talk. That fact was made evident when Nearly-headless Nick floated down past them with a peering, inquiring eye. It wasn’t until they reached the third floor level that Severus found the courage to say something, noticing Rose as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“My, Rose,” he said, feigning surprise. “Where did you get those exquisite earrings?”

“Oh, they were a gift,” said Rose, her cheeks flushing a light pink. Severus saw this and smirked at her. “I’m just going to take a wild guess and say that they were from that secret admirer of yours. Am I right?”

Rose shook her head to herself, though not without a bashful smirk of her own. “He sent his owl up to my dormitory, and in the nick of time. Hermione likes to think that it shows how much he cares about me.”

“I should say so. If I were to put a price on those, I would guess around fifty galleons. He must have some serious feelings for you if he was willing to spend that much money.”

“That’s the trouble, I didn’t want him to spend that much money,” said Rose. “I thought it was foolish of _All-my-affection_ of buy these for me. I mean, he’s sent me some really nice things, but these earrings are too much. I was close to sending them back with the owl.”

Severus swallowed. He was afraid that she would say that. “But what stopped you?”

“Hermione convinced me to keep them. I mean, I still liked them, as expensive as they were. She said that the best way to show that I liked them was to wear them to the ball, and so I did. Besides, he was kind of hinting in his letter that he would be at the ball. Hermione thought it would be good to wear them in case he decided to step forward.”

Severus felt the pitter-patter of his heart behind his ribs, a warmth washing over his body. He slipped his hands into his pockets, and he would have continued to stare out in front of them if he hadn’t heard Rose speaking again. “He gave me this this too. Nifty little thing, isn’t it?” Severus looked down as Rose held out her hand, showing him the silver bracelet, and causing another fluttering flip. But that was nothing compared to when he caught sight of the little charm, and the little inscription that it now bore. And that was when Severus realized that this admirer meant more to Rose than the flattery.

But for all his pretense, he was almost bound to ask the obvious question in this particular conversation. “Did he ever reveal himself to you, _All-my-affection_ I mean?”

Rose sighed slightly. “No, he didn’t.”

“You sound disappointed,” Severus commented, unable to ignore the dip in his darling Rose’s tone. “I thought you were not pinning too much hope on this.”

“I blame my friends,” said Rose. “They were all convinced that he would be there, even if there was no sure way of knowing. I mean, what better night than tonight? I just let them get to me more than I should, the sentimental fools. And I still don’t know if he actually was there or not. I guess I’ll find out when I get his next letter.”

_‘Oh, you’d like that, would you?’_ Severus thought to himself. He thought with delight that he might have to spend what was left of his night writing that note. “Well, in defense of _All-my-affection,_ it can be quite difficult to pluck up some courage when the object of your fancies is all dolled up.”

Rose smiled in that sort of aw-shucks way, and she brought her hand up to lightly touch her lips. At this point, she was hoping to dear God that the depths of her feelings could not be seen in her eyes.

They were about to start up another flight of stairs when Rose stopped in her tracks. Already up the steps, Snape turned to look down on her. “Is something the matter, Rose?”

“I just thought of something,” said Rose. “I had to make a few potions earlier today, and I used up my supply of daisy root. Would you by any chance have some extra stock that you could spare?” What was left unsaid, however, was that while Rose was not exactly lying about the state of her personal stash of ingredients that she kept in her dormitory, it was certainly not an immediate priority of hers. What she really wanted was to extend this moment with Snape for as long as she could. And what would ordinarily be an inconvenience to her had presented itself as a perfect opportunity.

Severus thought about it for a while. That was a terrifically random request for this time of night. After spending hours on her feet, socializing with everyone she could tolerate, the last thing that should be on her mind were her studies and her experiments. And if she was in such a dire need for the root, why not just go find some in the student stores? Further thought reminded Severus that Rose knew what she was doing when it came to her brewing. She probably had already tried to do that, and probably came up short when she got there. The student stores didn’t run out very often, but it did happen. And what better backup plan was there than for Rose to go straight to her Potions master to find what she needed?

He looked up, assessing their surroundings. The fourth floor level was just above their heads. If they had been any higher up when Rose thought to ask, he would have told her that he could give her the daisy root in the morning. But it wasn’t like it would cause him that much trouble; he was already doing more than he should by escorting her through the halls. And there was certainly no harm in getting to spend a few more minutes with her, especially after their awkward encounter at the ball. Severus started back down the stairs, stopping only to address Rose.

“I suppose I could arrange something for you, if you would accompany me down to the dungeons.”

**~HP~**

Severus allowed Rose to go into his storeroom to retrieve whatever she needed while he waited by his office door. In addition to the daisy root, Rose also asked if he could spare a pouch of dried salmon scales, which Snape gladly let her have. She walked out of the storeroom, jar and pouch in hand.

“Thanks a lot, Professor,” she said as Snape stepped aside to let her back into his classroom. “I really owe you now.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” said Snape. “It’s your fortune that you ran out of relatively simple ingredients that can be easily replaced. Although, I would have preferred if you brought it up at a more appropriate hour.”

“I’m sorry sir, it just popped into my head and I couldn’t let it go.” Rose found that making up these excuses was starting to become second nature. Briefly, she wondered to herself about exactly when that started. “But at least I’ll be able to sleep tonight knowing that I have them when I need them.”

“Do you really do that much independent brewing?” Snape asked curiously.

“More often for others than for myself,” said Rose. “The only reason why I ran out of daisy root was because I made the potions that my friends used on their hair tonight. You would think that they could just do it themselves instead on leaning on me.”

“Even Granger?”

“That’s what I get when I have a roommate with strict priorities, and most of them have to do with studies.” Rose stopped for a moment to finally get her shoes back on, leaning on a desk for support. She then turned back to face Snape. “So, do you still feel the need to escort me upstairs, or would you rather let me go alone? I would hate for you to walk all the way up there only to trudge back down here.”

Severus knew deep down that Rose was right to say that. Gryffindor tower was very high up, with an awfully long way back down to his personal quarters. It wouldn’t make sense to make the trip, and Minerva and Poppy would probably not want him exerting himself at this late hour. So he nodded to Rose, acknowledging her logic. “I can vouch for you if need be. I am after all partly the reason why you are out so late.”

Rose giggled, blue eyes travelling to the ceiling. “If Professor McGonagall wakes you up looking for answers, I apologize ahead of time.”

“Knowing that woman, I think she may be persuaded to let you off. You are certainly not the only straggler still wandering around the halls, and she may be slightly sympathetic to one of her own.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” said Rose, slightly sarcastic. Once again, she gathered her ingredients in her hands. “I don’t know if I’ll be by tomorrow, so I hope you have a good Saturday off. I know you weren’t thrilled by the ball, you deserve to get some peace and quiet for a while.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” said Severus with a small smile. “And don’t feel that you shouldn’t disturb me. Barring a disaster, you are always welcome down here.”

Rose blushed, keeping good control of her breath. “Thank you, Professor…I…I guess I should be going.” She said that, but she made no move to start for the door. Rose instead stood still, hanging on bated breath for Snape’s response.

“Yes, of course,” the Potions master replied. “For all that absurd nonsense, I am glad that you had a pleasant evening. It’s not very often that I get to see kids that happy with themselves.” Rose smiled, and her eyes sparkled with the candlelight. And Severus felt his heart burning with desire. He could feel his emotions wearing thin, telling him that it could be another rough night of sleeplessness and tears. So he tried to stay focused on this image of his beloved Rose; dance-weary and a little undone, but very, very happy. Hopefully, he would rest well with that in mind, even if he had to fight off the torment that came with his deep passion for her.

Rose started for the classroom door, and she kept her face to Snape as she said, “Good night, Professor.” She then turned to leave.

“Good night, Rosie.”

The clicking of Rose’s heels suddenly stopped, and the jar of daisy root fell to the stone floor, shattering on impact.

Behind her back, Severus was deathly still. His entire body seemed to go rigid, and his breath was barely detectable. How could he let himself slip so spectacularly in front of Rose?! How could he call her the very name that she so famously detested, without the protection of anonymity? It was one thing to call her that in a nameless letter, she seemed to have grown accustomed to it if she included it in her written response earlier that evening. But he remembered how she said that name was almost as good as an insult to her. How in the name of Merlin was he going to explain this?!

Rose turned back to him very slowly. Her once glittering eyes were now hard with shock, her lips open just a touch. “What did you just call me?” she asked, her voice close to a constricted whisper.

“I – uh,” Severus stammered, quickly searching for an answer. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You just called me Rosie,” accused Rose, pointing a trembling finger at the shaken Potions master. “Why did you call me that?!”

“Rose, I can explain…” Severus tried to say, but Rose jumped right on his attempts to defend himself. “Like hell you can! Professor, you know how I don’t like that name. I told you why! No one is supposed to call me by that name, no one! There’s only one person I allow to use that name, and that’s because…”

Rose’s words slowed to a halt as she lapsed into thought. Only one person could call her Rosie, only because there had been no way to correct him. She let him call her that in writing, disregarding it much of the time, and she had gotten used to it. There was only one person who would think to use that name so loosely. The connection made Rose snap her head up to Snape, eyes as wide as her mouth. “Oh no…”

“Rose –,”

“You’re not –?” Rose bit out, words getting caught in her throat. “Oh god…it was you, wasn’t it? You’re _All-my-affection_?!” Severus stood frozen, clinging to a desk for support. He felt utterly trapped, backed into a corner by the same brilliance he had come to admire so much. But realizing that there was no way out of this one, all he could do was offer her a feeble attempt at a nod. He swallowed hard to keep control of his inner distress.

Rose brought a hand up to cover her mouth, now quietly gasping for breath. But her eyes remained locked on Snape as she continued to ramble. “I don’t believe it…it was you all along! You’ve been sending me the letters, the gifts. You were the one that sent me these earrings, and my bracelet.”

“Rose, just let me explain,” Severus pleaded, speaking through the knot forming in his throat. Rose relaxed a little, letting her hands fall to her side, but still clinging to the blue fabric of her gown.

“I just don’t understand,” she said. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Because I thought you deserved it,” said Severus. Plain and simple, that was all he could say.

“But those letters…you actually wrote them?” Another nod was Rose’s answer, and she swallowed hard. “Did you actually mean what you said?”

“Yes…” Severus choked out.

Rose started shaking her head. Her mind and her heart were racing as she fought to make sense of this. But of all the things that she could have said, all that she could think to say was, “Why?”

Filled with shame and anguish, Severus had to swallow and take several hard breaths before beginning to speak. “I suppose you deserve to hear the truth, after what I put you through. In the time that we’ve spent together, I have gotten to know you. In getting to know you, I realized what a wonderful person you are. And perhaps in doing so, I have completely fallen for you.”

Rose’s face was the picture of stunned silence. She blinked to keep her eyes clear, and she breathed through her mouth, which she still couldn’t quite close. But she didn’t say a word, something that Severus found most alarming. She just stood there, staring at him with those big blue eyes.

“I am so sorry for leading you on in that way,” Severus continued, clinging to control. “But it was the only way. I wanted to give you those gifts, I wanted you to read those words, but the only safe way to do that was to pass myself off as an anonymous student. I didn’t mean for you to pin so much on _All-my-affection_ , I just wanted to make you happy.”

Still, Rose said nothing. Her gaze bored into Severus, like some sort of silent plea, making the heartache more painful for Severus. “I know it was wrong for me to do something so outlandish and inappropriate, but I meant every word that I said. Rose, I have never met anyone else like you. You saw me for everything that I am, and you accepted me. You made me feel like somebody when you spoke to me. I didn’t know how I could go on with my life until you came into it. You were a light in some very dark days, and I wanted you to know that. You are an incredible person; you deserve far more than what you live with. If I could, I would have told you a long time ago about just how special I think you are, how much I cared for you…perhaps I could have told you how much I loved you.”

More silence, and Severus knew that could only mean one thing, and that was this whole situation would end terribly. Perhaps his plea was falling on deaf ear. This sudden revelation had not just turned Rose away from him, he probably downright scared her. And now that his feelings were out there, his job was now in danger. Rose would run back up to Gryffindor tower to tell her friends, who would in turn tell the heads of the school. When faced with Severus having a fancy for a student, no matter how grown, Dumbledore would have no choice but to keep his promises and cut him loose.

“I’m sorry for doing this to you,” he said, in a last attempt to make up for his actions and for Rose’s suffering. “It was never my intent to hurt you. But I just could not fight the feelings I held for you. You were untouchable, but I still went after you. I fear that I hurt you just by sending you those letters. I never would have done that if I had known about you and Macleod. I made you think about falling in love with someone else when you were still mourning your first. If I had only known, I would never have done something so selfish. Oh Rose…Rose, I am so sorry!” Severus stopped to take a long pause. “I understand if you want nothing more to do with me. Who would want to associate with someone with that sort of unwanted attention hanging over you? I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to drop out of my class because of me. All I can say is that if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I will completely ignore you from now on if that is what you desire. I will do anything for you. All that I ask is that you just tell me now and get it over with.”

Severus waited for Rose’s response. Rose continued to stare at him for what seemed like hours, frozen where she stood, hands relaxed at her side, keeping an even breath. But at last, Severus saw the faintest trace of movement. This is it, he thought. She was going to run away from him, and never look back. But he was stunned when he looked down and saw one silver shoe take a step forward. Rose carefully crept closer to him, not taking her eyes off of him. Finally, she stood in front of him, looking up into those deep, dark eyes that were so full of despair. She took a breath in, and Severus prepared himself for what would be one of the worst rejections of his life.

Rose grabbed his shoulder, pulled herself up, and pressed her lips against his.

Severus’s hands came up from his side, but he was unable to do much else with them. He couldn’t even think of doing anything but to close his eyes. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t really happening. He would wake up from this dream and find himself alone in his quarters. Rose would be unaware again, and he would never know this incredible feeling in reality. But the grip of Rose’s thin hand on his shoulder told him that it was real, and that he really was feeling the warm caress of her glossed lips.

The kiss lasted a few long seconds before Rose pulled away and let go of Severus’s shoulder. She stopped to take a few panting breaths. But then, the face that held nothing but shock now fell into the horror that Severus dreaded.

“I shouldn’t have done that!” she hissed in a panic, now starting to step back towards the door. Severus started after her, reaching out a hand to her. “Rose…”

“I shouldn’t have done that! It was totally out of line! I completely overstepped my boundaries there! Forget that I even did that!”

“Rose…”

“No, I mean it! Forget that I just did that, forget that we even had this conversation! This was never supposed to happen. You were never supposed to think of me like that, no matter how much I wanted it. You’re – you’re my professor, my Slytherin professor! You were never supposed to care for me like I cared for you. Love – it’s impossible! No, no, forget this ever happened!”

Suddenly, Severus reached out and grabbed her wrist. “ _Rose!_ ”

“ _What?!_ ”

Severus took the sides of Rose’s face in his hands and brought her closer to capture her mouth in a deeper kiss. He could feel a tear escape his tightly clenched eye as he relished in her taste. Rose’s hands touched his wrists, and Severus felt her lips beginning to part. She was pleading for more, and Severus opened his mouth to give her what she desired. Their tongues intertwined, and Rose’s hand came up further to cup the back of Severus’s head. Her pale fingers ran through his clean black hair. And Severus wrapped an arm around her body to hold her close.

Both panted for breath after they finally parted. And they both were shaky with their rush of intimate adrenaline. It was Severus who first found the courage to speak, his throat dry with passion. “Did that really just happen? Was all of that real?”

“Uh-huh,” Rose nodded, apparently still a little too shocked.

“Does that mean…what I think it does? You mean you actually –,”

“Yes…”

“How long?” Snape asked, unable to comprehend what Rose was attempting to say.

“Weeks…months,” said Rose. “I don’t really know when it happened, but it happened all the same.”

“Rose, please tell me that you are being honest with me, because I just cannot take any more deceit. Please…don’t say it unless you really mean it.”

“I am.” Now Rose was crying, letting a few tears run down her face. “And I do. Why else would I pester you the way I have been? I only wanted to be near you, to hear your voice…wishing that one day I would hear those blessed words.”

Severus was at a loss for words, still not believing any of what was happening. His eyes also began to cloud again, and Rose saw this. She rushed forward and threw herself into his arms, tightly embracing him and gripping his broad shoulders. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady, albeit quickened heartbeat. “Oh god…Professor,” she gasped.

“Rosie,” said Snape, cradling her head close. “Oh Rosie!”

Rose was quiet for a long moment before she looked up at him with a tearful smile. “Severus…”


	46. Hidden happiness

For the first time in both Severus and Rose’s lives, they felt like life was finally starting to make sense after so many years. They spent much of the day after the Seventh year Ball more or less on a cloud, floating about their business, not a worry or care on their minds. They finally had their perfect world, or something close to it. And nothing else that was going on around them would do a thing to change it. All that mattered was that they had each other. Nothing else mattered to them now that they had the love that they so deeply cherished, after weeks of telling themselves that it would never happen.

They finally had the small happiness that only a new romance could provide.

Over the next few weeks, Severus and Rose began to arrange their time together into a very simple, but very secret routine. They would carry on with their daily lives as though nothing was amiss, acting in the casual manner that they had been exhibiting in the weeks leading up to the ball. Severus would treat Rose with the same academic favor, and Rose continued to talk about Severus in the same high esteem that left Harry and Ron so puzzled. And as far as Hermione knew, there was nothing more behind it than a harmless crush. They limited their interaction to mostly just classes and extra brewing sessions, keeping a fair amount of distance in between. But once the sun set and the students started lumbering up from dinner, Rose would slip away from the crowds and sneak down to the dungeons. She would then find Severus in his office and lock herself in with him for an evening of passionate kisses and gentle fondling.

Severus was still convinced that he was in some kind of dream to find himself in his wingchair late into the evening, with Rose sitting on his lap, feeling her warm hands caress his face with each kiss she gave. Though he had seen himself in this very position in his idle, nighttime visions, he never thought that it would ever become more than that. And he still couldn’t believe that Rose felt as strongly for him as he did for her. There were so many different choices of men for her to pick from, and yet she wanted him. And Rose made no secret of it. She told him over and over again that there was no one in the world that she adored more than him. She told Severus that out of everyone in the world, Wizarding and Muggle, he was the one person that she cared for with her whole being. It was a shame that these evenings were so short, but Rose still had a curfew that she had to adhere to. She would return to Gryffindor tower and be in bed on time, thus expelling any suspicions from her housemates. Besides, Severus knew that there was only a certain amount of time that he could keep the Glamour Charm on himself to hide the swell of his stomach. As much as he loved Rose, she still could not find out about this pregnancy under any circumstances. And so Severus had to continue to hide it from physical sight, especially now that Rose was so close.

The pregnancy was progressing well as they moved further into December. The baby continued to grow at a steady rate, and it showed in Severus’s expanding waistline. Every pair of his trousers and several frock coats had been magically altered to accommodate his belly, and he was now using Glamour Charms on a daily basis. However, in her way of shameless mother-henning, Poppy had warned him that he should use them only when necessary, which to her was while he taught his classes. It seemed that long-term magical suppression could potentially have an effect on the baby’s development, although the risks were very slight. He should disillusion himself once he was done for the evening, and preferably while he sat in his office between lessons. Poppy’s point was that Severus shouldn’t have to hide his condition when no one was around to see it, otherwise he would never get used to it himself. Severus grudgingly had to agree with her, though he claimed it was more for his child’s own good.

Poppy was just finishing up one of her afternoon checkups when there was a knock at the door of Severus’s secluded hospital room, and Albus strolled in without waiting for a response. Caught off guard, Severus almost jumped out of his skin before grabbing his still open robes to cover himself. It was true that the headmaster had seen him in various states of undress over the years, depending on what happened in those god forsaken Death Eater meetings. But there was still something about Albus seeing him disrobed and visibly pregnant that made Severus very uneasy. Actually, Albus was probably the last person he wanted to see him without clothes on, pregnant or not!

“Albus,” said Poppy, looking up from Severus’s medical files. “What brings you here so suddenly?”

“Emphasis on the word suddenly,” Severus said through gritted teeth, starting to button up his shirt to properly cover his stomach.

“Actually,” Albus began, smoothing his hand over his beard. “I was hoping if I could speak with Severus for a moment.”

“Don’t you think that this could have waited?” asked Severus, now rather annoyed. “You can clearly see that I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.”

“I don’t really see why, considering that it’s your condition that I want to talk about.”

Severus groaned, pressing a hand to his face and falling back onto the bed. The pillows provided some relief for the oncoming headache. “What now?” he griped, almost begging Albus to start on with his rambling to get it over with quicker.

“Oh, don’t sound so dispirited, my boy,” said Albus. “I happen to think that you are going to like this idea.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” Severus nodded as he spoke. He would like the idea, please! When had he ever thought that the old codger’s ideas were good ones?

Albus stepped forward and pulled out his wand, conjuring up a chair beside the bed so he could sit down. “You know that the holidays are coming up shortly.”

“Yes, just under two weeks away,” said Severus, staring up at the ceiling. He obviously hadn’t given Christmas much thought, not that this was a drastic change for him. And with a new baby and an even newer romance taking up much of his attention, he had even more reason to ignore the campy celebration.

“Minerva and I had a discussion over tea last night, and you naturally came to mind. We both recalled how harried you seemed to be the last several weeks, and it was regretful that we added to that with the Seventh-year Ball. Since neither of us saw you the following day, we worried about your stress levels. We all know how important it is for you and the little one to take it easy.” Albus reached out to touch that tell-tale bump, but he quickly got his sense back and recoiled. Severus glared weakly, choosing to keep his mouth shut for once. It would do no good to snap at his old colleague.

Albus continued. “Minerva and I both agreed that you should have as relaxing a holiday as possible. And we both feel that in order for you to do that, you should spend some time away from Hogwarts.”

That caught Severus’s attention. “Wait, what?” he asked, propping his upper body up with his elbows.

“Go home for Christmas,” said Albus, carefully touching Severus’s arm. “You deserve a chance to kick back and relax for a few days, and to spend some time alone with your unborn child.”

Severus rested his hand on the swell of his stomach before turning his head to Poppy. “You don’t have any objections to that, do you?”

“Not at all,” said Poppy, shaking her head. She stood over the bed and lowered herself down to carefully run her hands over Severus’s raised middle…again. Severus didn’t have to be as smart as he was to guess that she was only doing that because the headmaster happened to be in the room, and he was eager to see what went on in that quiet little room every two weeks. “Actually, I was thinking about making a similar suggestion myself. Both you and the baby are doing quite well, and it is perfectly safe for you to travel, especially now. By the time you get into your third trimester, I doubt you would want to leave the dungeons. And besides, once this child is born, you will have absolutely no time to yourself for a few months. It’s better to get one last holiday in before the birth.”

Talking about a last holiday, and he wasn’t even five months along!

Severus took a moment to think about the headmaster’s proposition. It had been a great many years since he had spent Christmas at Spinner’s End, not since he was sixteen. And if he remembered anything about those holidays, it was how he always ended up miserable, with his father using the occasion to overdrink and then proceed to use his wife and son in violent bursts of target practice. He remembered the look of horror on Lily’s face their fourth year when he came back to school covered in bruises. Since then, even though the house was now in his possession, Severus made every attempt to avoid going back there between summer breaks.

But there was a silver lining in this. With all the fuss over his condition, Severus had longed for a chance to have some time to himself, with no one disturbing him. Albus was giving him the opportunity to do exactly that. In fact, he was telling Severus that it was better that he get out of the castle for a week or two. And Poppy did have a point in reminding him that his solitude would be all but over when he gave birth. He should take advantage of that while he still could, before his pregnancy prevented him from traveling. But the problem with this was that he no longer wanted to be alone. Now that he was embarking on a secret relationship with Rose, he didn’t want to be without that for more than a day. He would be at Spinner’s End, but his head and his heart would still be back at Hogwarts.

Severus sighed, feeling slightly conflicted. He looked back at Albus, who sat patiently with his hands folded in his lap. “I don’t suppose I have much choice in this, do I?” he said quietly.

“Just think of it as an early Christmas present from Minerva and myself,” said Albus, his eyes twinkling. “If anything, think of it this way. You would probably be much happier to be at home than spending your holiday with the lot of us.”

Severus seriously considered writing to the _Daily Prophet_ if Albus Dumbledore was actually hinting to the fact that he could be slightly overbearing.

**~HP~**

_Dated 15 December, 1998_

_From: The offices of Warwick Crumbly, Warden of Azkaban Wizarding Prison._

_Ms. Beckett,_

_This letter has been sent to inform you that a financial transaction was recently made by Inmate Number 4634, Alistair Phineas Beckett. The order was completed upon confirmation that you are his biological daughter and sole heir, and the amount of eighty galleons was deposited into your personal account at Gringotts Bank, located in Vault 612._

_Included with this letter is a personal note from Mister Beckett, which was handwritten in the presence of armed prison guards._

_It is a pleasure to do business with you, and we hope that you enjoy your holiday._

_~~_

_Rosella,_

_The money is there when you need it. Don’t you dare tell your banshee of a mother that it was late. I have a number of witnesses who can attest to the perfect timing of my legal agreements with her._

_A.P.B._

**~HP~**

The Great hall smelt strongly of evergreen, almost enough to overpower the smell of the food that covered the long tables. With the Christmas holidays just about a week away, the trees and decorations had gone up earlier that day, causing an array of emotions that ranged from the excited, to the depressed, to the indignant. Rose, for her part, was only slightly disgruntled. Then again, she was never in a terrific mood this time of year. While Rose liked holidays and enjoyed Christmas as much as the next girl, she wasn’t overly fond of spending it at home. With her mother’s desire to keep tradition, as well as her father’s looming presence, she didn’t have that much to look forward to. It certainly didn’t help that her friends were all the type that couldn’t wait to get home for the holidays. Rose knew that she could always stay at Hogwarts, but there was always something that prevented that, whether it be the custody agreements with her father, or simply her mother’s sheer stubbornness. So for all its stress and turmoil, she would grit her teeth and live with it for a few days. At least it wouldn’t be so bad this year with her dad still locked up.

And at least she would have something to look forward to when she got back, she thought as she looked up to the head table with a loving eye. Severus knew how to make her feel her happiest, even when the world didn’t want to allow it.

It seemed to take forever for the evening meal to finish, and Rose spent half of it glancing out of the corner of her blue eye. She watched as Severus finished his meal, talking with the other professors between bites. She was delighted to see how casual and relaxed he had being appearing the last few weeks. It still amazed her how much his feelings for her had weighed him down, causing some of the tension that had worried her so. What was more amazing was how confessing to her had so quickly relieved that anguish. Rose almost wished that he had told her that he loved her sooner if it meant that it would bring balance to his life. Her happiness was important, but Severus’s mattered so much more.

Once the crumbs and leftover morsels disappeared from the plates, students rose from the tables to begin the mass migration back to their dormitories. And Rose moved to do the same, but not without turning back to the head table and seeing that Severus had vanished from the hall.

She occupied herself for a little while by conversing with Lavender about some fluffy story they had both read in _Witch Weekly,_ keeping an idle, but watchful eye out for those around her. Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen, and Harry was upfront leading the pack of Gryffindors. Aside from Lavender, there was no one who would easily miss her. It wasn’t long before Lavender dashed ahead to catch up with Justin, barely uttering a goodnight, leaving Rose in amongst a young group of Hufflepuffs. Her housemates out of sight and out of mind, Rose slowed down until she fell back behind the crowd. And once that crowd dispersed in their various different directions, Rose turned and hurried toward the stairs that would take her to the castle’s lower levels.

With a small number of Slytherins still roaming the halls, Rose slunk her way through the dungeons. She walked at a swift pace, but tried to keep her steps as quiet as possible. On her toes to reduce the sound of her heels, she scurried through the darkness, ducking around corners and hiding in shadows until those few unsuspecting students and ghosts passed her by. Though it was a common sight to see her down there, Rose still didn’t want to be seen for fear of someone suspecting what she might be doing at the late hour. She especially didn’t want to cross paths with Slytherin’s most famous couple. It was a stroke of luck that she had not run into Parkinson or Malfoy, and she did not want to take advantage of that good fortune.

At last, she crept out of the dark and approached the Potions classroom. The door was open just a crack, and Rose carefully pushed it open, causing a marginally loud creak. Inside, the room was almost completely black, if not for a single candle that illuminated her true target. Slowly, she moved toward the closed door, her heartbeat picking up with each step she took, and she knocked carefully on the hard wood. Rose waited with barely an exhale, listening for any noise inside. And just when she thought she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, the handle rattled, the door swung in, and Severus poked his head out.

The Potions master peered around the room cautiously and for no real reason. But Rose knew that it made him feel safer knowing that they were totally alone, and he had to make double sure of that before they did anything else. But totally alone they were, and with a short nod, Severus stepped aside and opened the door further. He motioned for Rose to come inside, which she did without a word. She stood in the middle of the office while Severus saw to the lock. Once they heard that sharp, distinct click, they turned to face each other. Severus stepped forward, extending an arm out to his young love, and Rose wrapped her arms around his torso. She felt Severus’s embrace around her shoulders and she tilted her head up to accept his sweet kiss.

“It kills me to have to wait so long for you,” said Severus, caressing Rose’s cheek and kissing her again. “The Great hall is not so far away from here.”

“Oh love, you know I don’t want to be seen,” said Rose. Her voice was a soft croon as she smiled at him. “I’m sorry Sev, I hate to keep you waiting. I wish I could get here faster, but I can’t take the chance of running into Malfoy.”

Rose had taken to calling Severus ‘Sev’ during their nighttime trysts. She called him that because it was short, easy, and strangely cute in that way that only an infatuated lover could understand. It might have also had something to do with the fact that Severus still called her Rosie from time to time. Rose allowed it, since it really had become such a term of endearment between them. Actually, she was starting to like it, just so long as it was Severus saying it. And Rose wanted to match that endearment. If he could have a pet-name for her, then why not she for him?

At first, Severus was a little taken aback by the name. Rose could never have known that it was the name that Lily had used all those years ago, or that it brought back less than stellar memories at first. But Severus allowed it because Rose was showing him great compassion in letting him use the name Rosie. She loved him enough to disregard her past distaste for it, the bad feelings it used to bring about. And Severus loved her enough to do the same. Besides, it sounded better coming out of her mouth.

Severus gave Rose one more peck on her lips before he spoke again. “Did you pass many people on the way down here? Are there students roaming the dungeons?”

“Not at all,” said Rose. “I passed a few people, but they seemed to be headed for the Slytherin common room. And the Bloody Baron is up by the top of the stairwell. Other than that, it’s pretty quiet out there. Why?”

“I want to show you something.” Severus gently touched Rose’s back, coaxing back toward the door. “Come, follow me.” He guided Rose through the Potions classroom, muttering a quick charm to lock up his office. Severus took a moment to look around the outside halls before silently beckoning Rose onward.

Rose trailed a short distance behind as Severus led her deeper into the dark of the dungeons. They walked slowly, keeping their eyes and ears open to any signs of movement. Rose was tempted to ask Severus exactly where he was taking her. They had never left the safety of that quiet little office before, and as they were still feeling their way around their relationship, Rose didn’t see much reason why they would. But she trusted Severus, and she would follow anywhere he led.

Finally, they came to a halt outside another old, wooden door. If not for the darkness, Rose might have recognized where they were. But her slight confusion was resolved when Severus carefully turned the handle and pushed the door open. He then turned back to Rose and reached out to her, gesturing for her to come inside. Rose could feel his hand on her shoulder as she floated past him. “I thought it was time that you saw my personal quarters,” Severus whispered, just loud enough that only Rose could hear.

Rose gazed around the room at the aged, but elegant furniture, the rich wooden tables, and the dark curtains and rugs. She saw the high bookcases, filled to capacity, and the cupboards filled not with potions ingredients, but with some light foods and a variety of teas. And she breathed in the sweet aroma that she associated with no one but her darling Potions master. Rose smiled her quiet delight; these rooms were quintessential Severus, well-kept and simple, but still with an air of refinement.

“I’ve already altered my wards to recognize you,” Severus explained as he closed the door behind them. “If you ever need to get in here, you won’t have to worry about being shut out.”

Rose walked over to the sofa and sat herself down, settling into the cushions. “Does that mean I should start sneaking down here from now on?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that just yet.” Severus smiled right back at her, almost in a cheeky _one-step-at-a-time-Rosie_ sort of way. He sat down beside her, Rose inching closer to his body. She caressed the sides of Severus’s face with a warm hand, and she offered him her sweet kiss, which he gladly accepted. It was as though Rose sought to devour him in her passion; their mouths dueling to win dominance with neither triumphing, but instead forming a perfect romantic waltz.

Severus soon relaxed completely into the back of the sofa, and he kicked his feet up to rest them on the table before them. Rose in turn stretched herself across the cushions and snuggled close to her older lover, resting her head on his chest. Severus hugged her closer, enveloping her with an arm and a length of robe.

Rose gently rubbed her hand up and down Severus’s torso, feeling the course fabric of his frock coat against her palm. She noticed that whenever she passed over his abdomen, she felt a slight tingling in the tips of her fingers. This struck her as a little odd. That feeling was something that Rose usually associated with some kind of magical trace. But then, she had never been so enwrapped in a man before. And it wasn’t exactly a bad tingly feeling, so Rose chalked it up to being over the bloody moon. They could stay this way, for all she cared. There was no place she would rather be than right there, at that very moment, in those strong arms.

Severus sighed his content, taking in the light scent of Rose’s hair. It felt so good to feel her stroking hand moving over his middle, still charmed to keep him trim in her eyes. He kissed the top of her head, and he felt her giggle vibrating against his chest. This made him sigh again; having a girlfriend had to be the best feeling he had ever known.

“Mm, let’s just stay like this forever,” Rose hummed. Severus chuckled. “If only we could, love.”

“You know, suddenly I understand what makes Lavender so flighty. It’s moments like this.”

“Oh, please don’t sink to that level. I like you just as you are now.”

“Not to worry about that, Sev.” Rose nestled further into Severus’s body, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you make a wonderful pillow?”

“Can’t say that I’ve heard that one before,” said Severus, amused by the cheeky comparison. Not that he was one to complain about it, mind you. As long as Rose was there to rid him of those lonely nights, he would gladly act as her pillow. He lightly scratched Rose’s scalp as he took in a breath. “I have been meaning to ask you, Rose. What were your plans for the holidays?”

“I’m supposed to go home to Meadow Hill, like I do every year,” said Rose. “My mother likes it when I spend Christmas with the family.”

“I see,” said Severus. “Forgive me, but you don’t very enthused by the idea.”

Rose sighed, rather discontentedly. “I can’t say that I look forward to it every year.”

“Not much of a holiday person?” Severus asked.

“Oh no, it’s not that. I like Christmas, it’s just the family traditions that get to be a little much. It would be a perfectly lovely day if it were just me, my mum, and whoever she’s seeing at the time. No, we have to get the whole family together. All five of the children, and all eleven grandchildren, all crammed into my mother’s little house. She didn’t have to take charge of Christmas dinner, but she did anyway, that domestic wench.”

“Rosie, it can’t be that bad.”

“You obviously don’t know my family, Severus,” Rose sniggered. “Picture if you will a typical Waverly family Christmas. I’m stuck in front of the telly with my youngest cousins, watching stale Muggle holiday programming. My grandfather is asleep in the chair. My grandmother is knitting away on the sofa, singing off-pitch carols. My uncles are outside rowing. My mother is running around the kitchen with my aunts, trying desperately not to burn the goose. And in amongst all that, my remaining cousins are trampling around the house, trying to restrain each other. I always end up spending Boxing Day in bed with a long book and a dozen CDs.”

“Those are the sacrifices that come with having a big family,” Severus sighed. “You have ten cousins? I shudder.”

“Yeah, and that’s not even the worst of it. It was the holiday break, and that meant I had to see my dad. Four days after Christmas, I’d be on a train to London to meet him there, and I would spend the rest of the break with him. I think you’ll notice I always came back to school more subdued than others. At least that’s one less thing I have to worry about this year.”

Severus nodded his head. Yes, it was lovely to know that Alistair’s Christmas dinner would be a slice of cold, clammy ham, lumpy potatoes, and a stale roll, served to him through his cell bars. It would be tough to ruin his daughter’s holiday from behind Azkaban’s walls.

“What about you?” Rose asked, bringing Severus back. “What are your holiday plans?”

“Actually Rose, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Severus explained, taking in a calming breath before going on. “You know that not all professors choose to stay at Hogwarts during the break.”

“Oh yeah,” Rose nodded. “Professor Lupin is already talking about how much he can’t wait to get home to his son. It’s the little one’s first Christmas apparently.”

Severus rolled his eyes, but not as cynically as in past weeks. “Yes, that doesn’t surprise me much. But what I was going to say was that I thought you should know that I will also be leaving.”

“Oh…” said Rose, her tone hitching up slightly. “Um…family?”

“No,” Severus shook his head. “Just getting away from the castle for a while. Dumbledore actually recommended it, says I need a holiday.”

“You do,” Rose interrupted, turning her head enough to meet her love’s ebony eyes. Severus smiled coyly at her. “Yes, and I have told you how difficult it is to say no to that man. So I will be heading back to Yorkshire for a few days.”

Rose gave him a small smile. “Oh…lovely.”

“You sound a little disappointed. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Truthfully, Rose had been hoping that Severus would be staying at Hogwarts, giving her a reason to stay and spend the break with him, tucked away in his private quarters together until classes resumed. But now she was left with no option but that long trip back to Kent. “I just don’t like the idea of being away from you, even if it is for a few days.”

“Neither do I, which is why I brought this up.” Severus brought his free hand up to gently grasp Rose’s. “Rose, I have done a lot of thinking about this over the past few days. I don’t want to spend over a week alone, without you. I can barely go one day without you. But this is totally up to you. If you would like another option…if you like…perhaps you could come and spend the holiday with me.”

Quite surprised, Rose pushed herself up to sit on her knees. She looked at Severus with raised, flaxen brows. “Spend the holiday with you…at your home?”

“I can make all of the arrangements for you,” said Severus. “I can figure out a way to get you there without anyone knowing. I know it seems a little fast for you to be running off with me, but believe me Rose, it would beat the hell out of a week alone in that house. What do you say?”

“I don’t know,” Rose sighed. “I mean, I’ve always gone home in December, all except last year while my mother was hiding in France. And she’s not easy to say no to either.”

“You could say that something came up,” Severus suggested. “But think about it, Rose. It doesn’t sound like you were happy to be home for Christmas, trapped in a house with your entire Muggle family, the eldest of eleven grandchildren turned built-in babysitter. Do you really want that again?”

“No…” said Rose. “And mind you, I’m the second eldest.”

Severus sighed. “All I want to do is give you a chance to have the holiday that you want, not what your mother wants. She had you for seventeen years without complaint. Maybe it’s time you took charge of your decisions.”

Rose turned slightly, resting her back against the sofa back. She had hoped for an escape plan to get her out of a long week and a half of babysitting and feigning interest in that simple Waverly life. But now that she had something else open to her, she wasn’t so sure. It was one thing to blow off her mother and stay at school. But to run away entirely, that was a completely different venture, and an incredibly risky one. Hogwarts was safe, and their routine was relatively secure. She trusted that Severus could concoct a clever plan, but most of it would likely be on her shoulders, and there were no guarantees that they wouldn’t be caught in the process. Rose valued her relationship far too much to risk the secrecy that kept it alive.

But it was that secrecy that Rose often wished she could escape. She was in a relationship with Severus, and she wanted to act as such. She loved this man. She wanted to spend quality time with him, without the fear of discovery. It seemed that this idea would give them that very chance. If Dumbledore was basically commanding Severus to take a holiday, then that probably meant that no one would be disturbing him. At last, they could have the solitude that they desired. It would just be the two of them, left alone to relish in their passion

Rose was conflicted, perfectly conflicted. Self-preservation aside, it was a choice between telling a difficult lie to her mother, or leaving her love for a long, lonely break. And either way, she would end up feeling regret.

“When are you leaving?” she asked, quietly.

“The night before the students,” said Severus, reaching for her hand again.

Rose sighed softly, taking in the warmth of Severus’s grasp. “So that leaves us four more nights.”

“You need some time to think about this, don’t you?” Rose slowly nodded her head, and Severus’s face fell slightly. He raised a thin finger to gently stroke the soft skin of Rose’s cheek. “Rose, I don’t want for you to feel like I am pressuring you. I know I might be asking for a little much at this time. But this is your choice, and I am willing to go with whatever you decide.”

“It’s not you,” Rose reassured as she reached up to take that caressing hand. “I just have to decide what I’m going to do about my mother. She’ll be disappointed if I don’t come home.”

Severus nodded. “I understand.” 

Feeling a twist in her heart, Rose leaned forward to kiss Severus’s pale cheek. “Just give me a few days to think everything over, sort something out. But I want you to know something, Sev. Even if you had not given me that option, you would still be on my mind that whole week.”

“If that’s true, then you would have to avoid your mother like the plague.” Severus smirked, wrapping his arm around Rose’s shoulders to gently pull her back down toward his torso. “I have a feeling that if she even got one hint that you were seeing someone, she would hound you.”

“You’d be right,” said Rose with a cheeky grin. “I’ve said to Hermione that my mum knew about Dante two years before I would admit to it. She always asks me about boys, if there’s anyone I’m interested in. Of course, with my dumb luck, I get a boyfriend that I can’t talk about.”

The couple laughed together, and Severus pressed a kiss to Rose’s forehead.


	47. The secret plan

Rose was enjoying a rather pleasant dream when she was woken up by a sharp jab to her ribs. Blinking away the blur in her eyes, Rose tried to get a look at her surroundings. The intense fog of burning incense and the rambling mutters in the background reminded her that she was in the middle of a very long, mostly aimless Divination lecture, and that she had literally been bored to sleep. Lavender gave her a look that said that she only woke her up so that they would have room on the table to dump their salt shakers out on the surface. But Rose knew that she really did it because if Trelawney caught her napping, then she would be leaving class with another ominous prediction. Rose on her part was very skeptical even if that were to happen. The last time the old bat had approached her, she predicted that she would have a dreadful evening that week. But every night that week, she was with Severus, and despair was the furthest from her mind.

Rose was gradually becoming more and more convinced that Trelawney got most of her predictions totally backwards.

Though she was awake and back in the present, Rose’s mind still was not totally there. It was the day before the end of winter term, and they would all be off for home the next morning. More importantly, Severus would be leaving the castle later that evening. And all Rose could think about was getting down to the dungeons while she still could.

Rose had yet to give Severus an answer to his offer to spend the holiday at his home. She had thought long and hard about it, gone over every little detail involved in either scenario. And after all that contemplation, Rose had finally made her choice. But it had taken far more time than she had anticipated, leaving Severus hanging every night. And now that she had mere hours left, giving him that resolution was her only priority. It was even more important when Rose thought of how happy he would be to know that her answer was yes.

It was absurd to think that it took her days to decide. Deep down, she knew the entire time that a holiday with Severus was all that she really wanted.

As soon as the class was dismissed, Rose quickly gathered up her things and made for the door, brushing excess salt off of her clothes and books. She walked at a much livelier pace, hoping to get down to Severus’s office as quickly as she could without running. But of course, she was out in the halls for all of three seconds before she remembered that she was in a tower and had quite a number of steps to climb down. She silently cursed both herself and the castle’s builders as she started descending.

Around the fifth floor level, Rose was stopped by the sound of her name echoing through the stair well. She turned to see Hermione, fresh out of Arithmancy class, rushing down the steps to catch up to her. “Hey Hermione,” she said, smiling at her slightly frazzle-haired friend.

“Hey Rose, what are you in a rush for?” asked Hermione. “I know you don’t like Divination, but you don’t try to flee this quickly.”

“Oh, no reason,” said Rose. Seriously, when did she get so good at lying without any hesitation?

“Trelawney didn’t prediction your doom, did she? Or did you just have a bad class?”

“Neither, I’m sure,” Rose shook her head, chuckling at Hermione. “The only thing she’s predicted correctly about me was running out of ink in the middle of a Transfiguration exam.”

Hermione laughed at the idea, sharing Rose’s cynicism. “Anyway, I’m on my way to meet Ron and Harry. Hagrid invited us to have tea before the holiday. Would you like to join us?”

“I can’t,” said Rose. “I have to run downstairs and drop off a late assignment before supper.”

“Oh, I’ll go with you,” Hermione offered in a chipper manner.

“No!” Rose barked before she could control herself. She quickly regained her senses and brought her voice back down. “I mean, it might take a while. I have to run up and speak to McGonagall anyway. I don’t want to keep you from the boys.”

“How about I go halfway?” asked Hermione, causing Rose to smile bashfully. It seemed that Hermione wanted a little female companionship that day, and as eager as Rose was to get to the dungeons, she couldn’t deny her friend that small satisfaction. They started down the steps together.

“So I noticed that you have all of your things packed away already,” said Hermione. “Eager to get home for Christmas?”

“As always,” Rose said in a rather dubious way that masked her hesitation, or perhaps distain. “I love it here at Hogwarts, but it’s nice to see my family every now and then.”

“It’s better than sitting around here, waiting for a letter from your father.”

Rose snorted sarcastically. “Please, I got that letter last week. No better than last year, I tell you. _“Happy Christmas, here’s your money.”_ He’d be pleased to know that his precious fortune helps pay for Christmas presents for his ex-wife.”

“Speaking of which,” Hermione interjected. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Rose. I don’t know about you, but I’ve still got a bit of shopping to do before Christmas. Since you and I are able to legally Apparate now, I was wondering if you would like to meet me at Diagon Alley. We could spend the day together and finish up our shopping.”

Rose smiled widely, though her mind was swarming with different scenarios as to how that would even be possible. She didn’t even have a clue about exactly where she would be spending her holiday, except that it was somewhere in Yorkshire. But if Severus could devise that plan, then he could help her with this one.

“I’d like that,” she replied cheerfully. “Send me an owl when you get the chance, and we can make plans.” The two girls reached the ground floor, and Rose turned her body to suggest that she would be heading for the staffroom. “I better get going. Give Hagrid my best wishes for the holidays. If I don’t see you sooner, I’ll see you at supper.”

“Alright,” said Hermione. “I’ll see you later.” She then dashed off in the opposite direction, headed for the grounds. Rose watched her go, waiting until her roommate was out of sight before turning back to the stairwell and heading deeper into the castle’s depths.

**~HP~**

The double class of Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Third years hadn’t completely emptied when Rose arrived at the Potions classroom. And a quick sniff of the air told her exactly why. The room and the halls just outside stunk of a mixture of smoke and cleaning potions. Must have been a rough lesson, Rose thought to herself, and she ducked behind the nearest corner to wait for the remaining students to leave.

After ten minutes, which felt more like ten hours to Rose, the last soot-covered Hufflepuff stumbled out of the room and made off in the direction of their common room. Swishing her red hair behind her shoulder, Rose light-footedly crept around the corner and into the Potions classroom, pushing the door closed behind her. Severus was nowhere to be seen, and Rose’s attention gravitated to his closed office door. Quietly, she tiptoed over and lightly knocked, not bothering to see if she was locked out.

“What?!” She heard Severus call from inside the little office, likely from behind his desk.

“Severus, it’s me,” hissed Rose. “Let me in.”

There was a silence on the other side of the door before the rustle of robes, the clicking of boot heels, and the rattling of the handle under her hand. Severus did his habitual check on their seclusion before whispering, “Alright, come in.” Rose slipped through the crack in the doorway and Severus quickly bolted them in. To Rose, he seemed a little flustered, like he had just been caught off guard or something.

Severus turned to see Rose sitting in one of the wingchairs before his desk, books and bag lying on the floor beside her. Without a word, but with a smile, the Potions master walked over, knelt down in front of her, and placed a gentle peck on her soft lips. Rose ran her fingers through his newly cleaned hair. As they broke apart, Rose took a quiet breath. “I’ve decided what I want to do.”

“Yes?” said Severus, as though he was hanging on her every word.

“I would love to spend the holiday with you.”

Severus broke out in a wide smile, causing Rose to do the same. She hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him into the embrace that would have happened anyway. Severus tightly hugged her, and Rose’s heart burst with love and delight. “How I hoped that you would,” she heard Severus say into her ear. They gave themselves a brief moment in each other’s arms before separating.

“What are you going to do about your mother?” Severus asked as he got back to his feet and strode across the room. He took the length of his robes and wrapped it around his torso.

“I already wrote to her,” Rose explained to Severus’s turned back. “I told her that there were some friends of mine that were staying at school for Christmas, and it would mean a lot to them if I spent our last school holiday with them. It wasn’t an easy letter to write, but I’m sure she’ll forgive me eventually. Just so you know, I have all of my –,”

“Rose,” Severus interrupted. “As much as I would love to speak with you now, and I really would, you actually caught me at a bit of a bad time. I wasn’t expecting for you to turn up until later.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Sev,” said Rose. “I didn’t know that you were working. I just wanted to get you before it was too late.”

“And I appreciate that.”

To Rose, the tone of Severus’s voice sounded distant, like he was focused on something that she couldn’t quite see. Seeing that her visit was being cut short, she got to her feet and picked up her books. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Huh?” asked Severus, evidently having not heard what she said.

Rose’s brow wrinkled as concern began to bubble up inside her. “I asked what you wanted me to do.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Severus recoiled, slightly forcing a smile. Rose stepped closer and turned his body so that he faced her more, though he still did not let go of his robes. “Severus, is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” said Severus, shaking his head. “I’m just thinking about my work, that’s all.  I tell you what; you go and spend the rest of the afternoon with your friends. Come back here after dinner, and then we will talk.”

“Alright,” Rose agreed with a smile. She placed a small kiss on his cheek and made for the door. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Until then, Rosie.” Severus said in the most charming tone, his deep voice making Rose giggle as she left.

It wasn’t until he heard the classroom door shut that Severus finally dropped his robes and placed his hand on his distinct bump. If he had known that Rose would be rushing down to see him right after classes let out for the day, he would have been more careful about lifting the Glamour Charm that kept her none the wiser to his delicate condition. Severus just hoped that his young love didn’t catch a glimpse of his stomach as she walked into the office.

Severus sat down behind his desk and sighed heavily. He hated that he still had to hide his pregnancy from Rose. Though there should be no secrets between them, he had to keep that from her. Like the rest of the student population, Rose likely still believed that he had simply been ill that term, and he had to allow it. And since she had yet to bring it up again, Severus had to accept that she might have forgotten that entirely. But that didn’t make this secrecy any easier. Severus felt that out of everyone in the castle, everyone in the world, Rose had the right to know. After all, apart from the developing child inside him, she was the most important person in Severus’s life. She was his Rosie, he loved her like mad. If anyone deserved to know about his impending fatherhood, it ought to be her.

Severus could only hope that there would come a time when it would be alright to let Rose in on his greatest secret. He wanted her to know at some point. But for now, he had to resign to keeping Rose in the dark.

He looked at the clock to realize that it was approaching the five o’clock hour, and he remembered that Albus had requested that he see Poppy for one last check on his pregnancy before he left Hogwarts. And as it always was with the elderly headmaster, a request meant a demand. Severus quietly left his office and headed up to the hospital wing.

**~HP~**

Having gotten caught up in exchanging early Christmas gifts with Parvati and Lavender and writing last minute, very apologetic holiday wishes to her mother, Rose ended up arriving late to dinner. She wasn’t terribly late, but it was late enough to garner some curious inquiries from her fellow Gryffindors, namely Neville and Seamus. But Rose lagging behind them was something they had gotten used to of late; she did after all have some close ties to a couple of professors. So they let her sit down and tuck into her meal without too many questions as to what she was up to.

Instead, they started pressing her for answers about other people. Rose might have thought twice about eating with her friends if she had known that she would be walking into this gabfest. It seemed that there was a rumor floating from house to house, year to year, that Professor Wicker was having a hush-hush affair with Professor Lupin. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been drawn into the ridiculous commentary, odd given how close they were to their werewolf professor. They were all looking to their red-haired companion for any information that might confirm the possibility, slim though it be.

Quite obviously, given her own circumstances, Rose didn’t have much to say on that subject. Truthfully, she hadn’t even heard the rumor until then. So all she could do in this present discussion was to give her housemates her honest opinion. That was the most _ridiculous_ idea she had ever heard!

They were all laughing when Rose glanced up at Severus out of the corner of her eye. He was looking directly at her from his place at the head table, and he arched his brow as her friends let out another hysterical burst. Rose briefly looked back to them before throwing a quick smile up to her secret boyfriend. He seemed to ignore her, but Rose knew better than to assume so.

Throughout the feast, Rose would repeatedly look up to the head table and meet Severus’s gaze. And every time she did, her desire for the meal to be over grew more and more. She had no idea about how her companions managed not to look over at her and see her making eyes at the greasy git himself. Somehow, they were just oblivious. And Rose preferred to keep it that way.

Just as the feast was wrapping up, Severus got up and quietly left. Rose knew that this was her cue to make her way back down to the dungeons. But there was a slight problem. She couldn’t just get up and leave her friends behind, nor could she leave with the trio. She had to wait for them to leave before her, and then for a larger group she could blend into. She had to wait for an opportunity where she wouldn’t be easily missed.

**~HP~**

Severus quickly stopped by his quarters to grab his luggage before returning to his classroom. Once there, he made sure that he remembered not to lift the Glamour Charm, knowing that Rose was right behind him and would be there momentarily. He shut the classroom door and walked into his office, leaving that door ajar. As he gathered together the last few things he needed, he kept compulsively looking at the clock. He didn’t have much time to spare before the train was due to leave Hogsmeade. He would have ordinarily used a much more convenient form of transportation, but one of the downsides of pregnancy was that Apparation was off limits until after the child was born.

Just when Severus was starting to lose his nerve, he heard the creaking of the opening door, and he sighed with relief. Rose came rushing through his doorway, lightly panting as though she had run the whole way. “Did anyone see you come down here?” Severus asked her.

“No,” said Rose, walking up to Severus and giving him a small kiss. Severus pulled out his wand and strode back into his classroom, Rose following close behind. He pointed at a few jars of some ghastly-looking substances, waved once, and the jars slid backwards into a cabinet. The cabinet then closed and they heard the securing click of the lock. Severus then turned back to Rose.

“Alright, we don’t have much time,” he said, waving his wand at another set of jars and cabinets on the other side of the room.

“All my things are packed away upstairs,” Rose explained. “If I’m coming with you tonight, I can just run up to the Gryffindor common room, grab my trunk, and be back down here before – ,”

“Hold on, Rose,” Severus interrupted, holding up a cautioning hand. “You’re not coming with me tonight.”

Though she had been somewhat expecting that in the back of her mind, the only reply that Rose could produce was a slightly disappointed, “I’m not?”

“No,” said Severus, sternly shaking his head. “I can’t get you out of this castle unnoticed.”

“Are you sure?” asked Rose. For some reason, her pride and tenacity had chosen to rile themselves up at that statement, common sense taking a short holiday. “I’ve gotten by just fine these last few weeks, sneaking around the school after dark. I can easily shrink my trunk down to size and slip out of the common room after everyone else is asleep.”

Severus sneered slightly, tucking away his wand. “Those rubbish-for-brains Gryffindors will still notice that your things are gone and that you seemed to suddenly disappear. Granger in particular will notice your absence. Besides, you know that there is still a chance that you could get caught out of bed on the way down.”

“But if that does happen, Filch will just bring me down here for you to discipline me. Once he leaves, I can take an Invisibility Potion out of the cabinet in your office and we can slip out.”

“Two things,” said Severus. “One, if Filch were to bring you to me, it would be because he wants to be entertained by my cruelty towards you. Frankly Rose, I don’t have the energy or the patience to act right now. Two, a potion won’t do any good. There are protections against students sneaking off of school grounds like you wouldn’t believe, especially at night.”

“Then what do you propose I do?” asked Rose.

“I have it all worked out,” Severus explained. He walked behind his desk, and he went through one of his drawers to find a blank sheet of parchment. He pulled out his teacher’s chair and gestured to Rose. She swiftly floated over and sat down, Severus setting the parchment out before her. Severus went into another drawer and produced a quill and a small jar of ink. “Write this down,” he quietly instructed. Rose nodded, dipping the quill and smoothing out the parchment. She then looked up at Severus with an anticipating gaze, and the Potions master took a breath in.

“Tomorrow, you will leave with the other students on the Hogwarts express. When you arrive in London, right after you come off of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, I want you to go and buy a ticket for the seven-thirty train into Yorkshire. While you are on the platform, try your best not to be seen by anyone who might recognize you, and keep to yourself while travelling. Once you are on the train, stay on it until you come to the Cokeworth station. It’s the last stop; you will likely be one of the last ones off. It’s an outdoor platform, so you must be very careful. I will be waiting for you when you come down onto the streets.”

“You don’t have to do that, Severus,” said Rose, writing down the last of his words. “I’m alright with walking on my own in the cold. And what if someone were to see us together?”

“There’s no magical presence in the area other than myself,” said Severus. “But I would much rather escort you back than leave you to navigate the streets on your own. I know the area, and as a young girl, you would be safer having someone with you.”

“Why?” Rose asked, not sure what Severus meant.

“You’ll see when you get there.”

Rose nodded her understanding. She was checking over her scribbled instructions when her head snapped up again. “Wait a minute. The second train leaves at seven-thirty, and it’s another several hours to get from London to Yorkshire. It’ll be really late by the time I get there. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

“I realize that,” said Severus. “I know it will be late when you arrive, but I will wait up for you regardless. I promise, I won’t lay down to sleep until you are safely with me.”

“You swear?” said Rose, a childlike innocence creeping into her voice. Severus gently stroked the sides of her face. “I swear on the spirit of Salazar Slytherin.” Rose giggled, looking back down at her delicate handwriting. She let out a short sigh. “Is something wrong?” asked Severus, leaning on the desk beside Rose.

“No,” Rose shook her head. “It’s just…it’s just that I thought what we’ve been doing was looking for trouble. This is just mad.”

“But you still want to do it, don’t you?” Severus’s brow twitched up, showing his slight nervousness. Rose smiled and leaned in closer to Severus. “Of course, I do. It’s a little nerve-wracking, the idea of sneaking around half of Britain to be with somebody. I’m just afraid that we could be found out.”

“We won’t,” said Severus. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this, and this is the safest way we can be together. Once you are with me in Cokeworth, you will have nothing to be afraid of.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rose said, pulling Severus down by the back of his neck for a kiss. Once she let go, Severus started rummaging through one of his robe pockets.

“Before I forget,” he said as he pulled something out and held it out to his young girlfriend. Rose opened her hand to accept the handful of Muggle money. “That’s for the second train ticket.”

Rose grinned widely, terribly amused by the idea of Severus having Muggle dollar notes on his person. “Where did you get these?” she asked, counting out the amount in her hands. “You never struck me as a wizard who carries Muggle money with him all the time.”

“I had to call in a favor from your darling Muggle Studies professor,” said Severus, rolling his eyes slightly. “Cassandra Wicker may be terribly annoying, but she does have her uses.”

Again, Rose giggled and tugged at Severus’s robes, coaxing him toward her. “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” she hummed into his ear. Severus felt Rose nuzzling into the crook of his neck, and he wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders, enjoying this brief moment of affection.

The clock chiming brought Severus and Rose back to the present. “It’s getting late,” said Severus, tension starting to constrict his throat. “You should go. Whatever you do, don’t lose those instructions.”

Rose nodded and folded up the parchment. She stuffed it down her collar, tucking it into her bra as she followed Severus over to the door where his suitcase was waiting. “I love you, Sev. Have a safe journey.”

“I love you too, Rosie,” said Severus. “And I will. I will see you tomorrow night.” And with that, the couple shared one last kiss, and Rose left the Potions classroom, taking the longer, more clandestine route back up to her common room.

Rose hadn’t been gone for more than ten minutes when there was a knock at the door, and Remus let himself in. He carried his own suitcase in hand, as well as a bag of vibrantly wrapped gifts. Presents for that baby boy of his, Severus thought to himself.

“You ready, Severus?” the werewolf asked. “That train won’t wait forever, and it’s the last one until morning.”

“Yes Remus, I am quite ready.” Severus went to pick up his bag, but Remus waved his hand at him. “No, no, I’ve got that.” He slung his gift-laden bag over his shoulder and lifted up Severus’s suitcase. “We don’t want you doing too much lifting in your condition.”

“I can manage one measly suitcase,” Severus grumbled, half to himself. “You know that you don’t have to do this. You could have gotten to Andromeda’s on your own time, your own transport.”

“Nonsense,” said Remus, shaking his head. “I just wanted to see you off safely. Besides, I’ve always preferred to take the train. I find it relaxing. Now come on, we’d best be off. Cassandra is waiting for us down at the station, and she’s got a thermos of fresh virgin eggnog that she’s more than willing to share with us.”


	48. Journey to Spinner's End

Rose woke up the next morning to discover that her dormitory was eerily quiet. Pushing herself up in bed, she noticed how Hermione’s sheets were turned back and rumpled up, and that the Head Girl was nowhere to be seen. With no classes to worry about, the girls had decided not to set their alarm and simply wake up when their bodies told them to. Hermione just happened to be an early riser by nature, or perhaps by compulsion. Rose however was happy to look at the bedside clock and realize that she wasn’t very far behind. Lying in was nice, but sleeping past ten a.m. was just ridiculous.

As she dressed in her jeans and grey, polo-neck jumper, Rose contemplated what was to happen that day. On one hand, she was excited about the idea of spending a week with Severus, far away from Hogwarts and the meddling souls who walked its halls, the threat of being caught. She thought with delight of the freedom she and Severus would have without the constant need to watch their backs. But that would only come once the night was through. That was when the nerves began to set in. She was about to embark on a long journey, all on her own, without anyone knowing about it. If something were to happen to her, no one except Severus would even know. And as touched upon the previous night, there was still a small fraction of a chance that she could still get caught. This could be big trouble that she was looking for, way more that the petty offences she had committed the past few months. After all, not every trouble-making teenager snuck away to some mostly unknown place to spend quality romantic time with someone twice their age, who also happened to be their teacher.

All Rose knew was that above all else, she had to trust Severus, and she had to trust herself. She couldn’t wimp out now, not after the Potions professor went to so much trouble to plan her trip out to Yorkshire, not when she knew that come nightfall, he would be awaiting her arrival. And if there was anything that she was sure of, it was that she wanted to be with Severus, and she couldn’t wait to be alone with him. She felt those intense flutters inside just thinking of it.

As she looked herself over in the mirror, she smiled with confidence in herself and love for her man. This was going to be quite a day and a very long night, but she was ready for anything that it could dish out. And with a curt nod to her reflection, she left the dormitory.

**~HP~**

It seemed that a lot of people had a lie-in that morning because the Great hall was still packed when Rose arrived to breakfast. And to her relief, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all still sitting at the table, talking amongst themselves. A handsome variety of pancakes, waffles, and fresh, juicy bacon had been set out for the students to choose from, encouraging a hearty meal before leaving Hogwarts. And just outside the door, the joyful noise of spelled suits of armor singing holiday carols could be heard echoing throughout the castle.

“Well, look who finally decided to roll out of bed,” Ron playfully jeered as he poured out a second goblet of milk for himself. Rose rolled her eyes dramatically; he was one to talk given his sleeping patterns on weekends, during holidays, and in between classes. “Look who’s talking, Rip Van Winkle,” she replied sarcastically, not really caring if Ron didn’t recognize the Muggle reference. Hermione would explain it later.

“What took you so long last night?” asked Ron. “Most everyone was in bed early, where were you?”

“If you must ask, I was following Hermione’s advice to get a jumpstart on one of my thesis essays and I went to get some information.”

The redheaded wizard shook his head. “Oi Rose, we’re all going on break today. Did you really have to keep working up to the last minute?”

“Hermione’s been doing that for as long as we’ve been here and you don’t complain about her, not anymore anyway.” A cocked eyebrow from the Head Girl in question let everyone know that she agreed with Rose’s logic. Rose and Ron decided to drop the debate because truthfully, it was completely pointless right now.

As Rose helped herself to a helping of Belgian waffles, the students heard the familiar screech of owls, and the birds started flooding in above them. Not expecting anything, Rose just carried on eating. But much to her surprise, an envelope dropped down onto her plate, landing on top of her food. Rose shot a quick glare at the inconsiderate post owl as it flew away. She then picked up the syrup-covered envelope and tore it open. She stared at the cream and gold, angel-decorated holiday greeting card before opening it to read.

_My dearest Rose,_

_I just wanted to write to wish you a very happy Christmas. It will be very lonely around here without you, and your presence will be missed by the entire family on Christmas day. Even in a family as big as ours, it’s a shame when not every child can be present for special occasions._

_I hope that I haven’t caused you too much grief in deciding to stay at school. As much I value having you home for the holidays, I also know that you are an adult now. You should be allowed to make your own decisions, and if your decision is to spend time with your friends before you leave school for good, then I must respect that._

_With this card, I have included a £50 note for you to spend on whatever you like. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to exchange it for your proper currency, but I’m sure that you could find some way to manage yourself. I will be sending you your actual gift after Christmas when I can get to one of your owl post offices._

_Give my best wishes to your friends, and I hope you all have a wonderful time together. I love you, my sweet baby._

_Love always,_

_Mum_

Rose fingered the paper money in her hands, feeling the clench in her chest. Her mother was loony by many young people’s standards, but she always managed to tug at her emotions when she left that to the wayside and spoke from her heart. For a moment, Rose felt terribly guilty for lying to her mother. But then she remembered what she was lying for, and she looked up at Severus’s empty seat.

Apparently, she let herself stare for a moment too long because in her right ear, she heard Ron’s voice coming again from across the table. “Hey guys, do you think Snape will spontaneously Apparate into his chair if Rose stares at it long enough?”

He and Harry had a laugh about it, joined by Seamus and Dean. Hermione shrugged as Rose froze in place. She could feel the sweat coming on, and she tried to pass it off like she didn’t hear that. “Wha – what?” she muttered, turning her head back.

“I was just pointing out that concentration like that is meant to help _you_ Apparate, not someone else. I’m shocked that you’re not sitting up in Snape’s chair right now.”

Rose blushed a deep pink. “Sorry, I just got a little lost in thought.”

“While looking at Snape’s chair?” asked Harry, arching an eyebrow in a cheeky manner. “What’s up with that?”

“Yeah, what’s going on with you, Rosie –,”

Before Ron could react, he was staring down the shaft of Rose’s ebony wand. Rose herself was glaring at him with a hard look. It was a harmless slip of the tongue, but for her, it was still inexcusable. “Anyone else, I would let it go,” she said with a quiet snarl. “But you should know better than that, Ron. If you call me Rosie one more time –,”

From behind, they all heard someone clearing their throat. Rose looked over her shoulder to see McGonagall standing directly behind her, her arms crossed over her chest. “What is going on here, Miss Beckett, Mister Weasley?”

“Nothing Professor,” said Rose, lowering her wand. Ron however was quick to challenge that statement. “All I did was call her Rosie, and the next thing I know –,”

McGonagall held up a hand, silencing one ginger student before looking to the other. “Miss Beckett, there is absolutely no reason for you to be threatening another student for using the wrong variant of your name. There is also no excuse for your actions. If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times. You need to learn to control that temper of yours. Five points from Gryffindor.” She then continued walking down the length of the hall to speak with the headmaster.

Horribly embarrassed by what she had just done, what led to it, Rose grabbed her mother’s Christmas card and shoveled in a few more bites before standing up. She managed a feeble look in Ron’s direction as she said, “I’m sorry, Ron.” She then started toward the door, picking up speed as she got further away. Behind her, Hermione got up to follow, catching up as Rose was starting up the stairs.

“How many times, Mione?” Rose muttered. “How many times do I have to remind him that –,”

“You were already embarrassed,” said Hermione, trying to console her friend. “You weren’t thinking, Ron wasn’t thinking, and you reacted on your first instinct. I don’t blame you at all.”

Rose looked at Hermione with some very desperate blue eyes. “You don’t think they noticed, do you? I mean, I know they saw me looking at Snape’s seat, but they couldn’t have figured out why.”

“They might have,” Hermione reluctantly admitted. “But I don’t really think so. I know those boys too well, and they both have a tendency to be terrifically absentminded about things of that sort. They’ll probably forget it by the afternoon.”

“I sure as hell hope they do.” Rose raised her eyebrows in emphasis. “I mean bloody hell! That was way too close!”

They reached the seventh floor and swiftly made their way back to Gryffindor tower. Rose uttered the password to the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open for them. Once inside the empty common room, looking around to ensure their solitude, both girls sat down in front of the still warm embers in the fireplace.

“I wish I could just tell them,” said Rose as she sank into sofa. “I wish I could tell them about Snape.”

“Well, why don’t you?” asked Hermione. “What’s stopping you?”

“Hermione…we’re talking about Harry and Ron here. They both greatly dislike Professor Snape, and they have every reason. If I tell them that I have a crush on him, neither of them will ever let me live it down. I can just see the looks on their faces now. I can hear the horrendous things they would say.”

“But at least they won’t tell anyone,” Hermione pointed out.

“Like that matters,” mumbled Rose. She started massaging her temple with one hand. “They won’t tell anyone, but they’d make me regret opening my mouth.”

Hermione thought about what happened in the Great hall. It wasn’t like Rose to pull her wand on someone so easily, especially if it were one of her friends. “They really embarrassed you before, didn’t they?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Rose said in barely a whisper.

Puzzle pieces started coming together in Hermione’s exceptional mind. She had spent much of her life surrounded by boys, and she had no sisters or female cousins, but she still had enough intuition as a woman to know what was going on here. Rose didn’t get embarrassed easily, but that was before Snape found his way into her heart. But why would she get so upset over a little harmless crush? Simple…it was because it was more than that. Hermione thought back on her own experiences in recent years, as well as the much more recent ventures of Parvati and Lavender. The only time a girl had a swing in emotions that sudden, guarded herself so securely, was either when she was overly hormonal, or when she was harboring some very deep feelings for someone.

“You’ve really got it bad for Professor Snape, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

Rose held her breath for a very short moment, no sure how she should respond to Hermione’s question. Even without a secret affair with Severus, she had never been one to go singing her feelings from the rooftops of Hogwarts’ tallest towers. She wasn’t Lavender, showing off her endless love to anyone who cared to listen. For obvious reasons, Rose did not want to get into the depth of her love for Severus like she had when she was first telling Hermione about Dante. But at the same time, her feelings for Severus were the strongest she had ever felt, and some secret part of her was just dying to let that be heard. And if there was anyone that she could trust with that secret, as with the others, it would be Hermione.

“Yeah,” she whispered, nodding slowly. She swallowed, preparing herself for the most seamless, elaborate lie she would ever tell in her life. “Hermione…how did you know that you were in love with Ron?”

Hermione quietly gasped, her brow wrinkling in her building sympathy. “Oh Rose…I…I knew I loved Ron when all I ever wanted was to be by his side. No matter where I was or what I was doing, I would always wander back to him. Everything I did, I always had him in mind. Ron is my life. He was everything to me, and he still is.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about Snape,” said Rose. “Hermione, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone, except maybe Dante. It’s like my entire world revolves around Snape. He’s what keeps me going every day. I can even go so far as to say that I almost can’t function without him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.

“I mean that I didn’t like looking up at the head table and not seeing him up there. You don’t understand, Hermione. Something in me changes when Snape is around. When it’s just me, I sometimes feel so small…so insignificant. But all that changes when he walks into the room, and he looks at me. And those few times that he took my hand…” Rose let out a deep sigh, blinking slightly to keep her eyes clear. “I’m so sorry Hermione, you shouldn’t have to sit through these ramblings. Every time I let myself fall, I always end up dragging someone down with me. Weakness causes pain; that’s what my father always told me.”

“Don’t say things like that, Rose,” Hermione said, skirting over to get closer to her friend. “I know exactly what you’re taking about. There were days when I almost begged for Ron to notice me. I’ve wondered time and time again why it took so long for us to get together when our feelings were as strong as they were. Hell, there were times when I wished I could just turn those feelings off and spare myself that heartache.”

“Oh, don’t I know how that feels?” Rose sighed, referring more to Dante than Severus. “My life would be so much easier if I didn’t need that feeling so much.”

“Everything will resolve itself eventually, don’t fret.” Hermione hugged Rose’s shoulders, and Rose felt that sinking feeling in her stomach. It would be difficult to explain that everything had already resolved itself, and it had been resolved for the best part of a month. The Head girl continued. “Don’t worry about Ron and Harry. They can be a pair of dunderheads, but it’s all in fun. Although, I do wish that you would tell them about Snape. At least then, they could be a little more sensitive towards you.”

“I’m not telling them until I’m good and ready,” said Rose. “If anything, give me a little more time to try and warm them towards Snape, soften the blow a little bit.”

Hermione giggled. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do all this term?”

**~HP~**

For the rest of the day, Harry and Ron were careful in their choice of words. Once Rose returned to the group with Hermione, they made sure that they didn’t say anything that might get their eyebrows scorched off. They chose to ignore Ron’s little ‘Rosie’ mishap at breakfast, and they dared not to call Rose anything but her accepted name. And much to Rose’s relief, Severus Snape’s name did not come up again in conversation. Although, whether that was by the boys’ own judgment or Hermione’s not-so-gentle prodding was anyone’s guess.

Hermione had to admit that she had the upmost respect for Rose for doing what she did. She remembered how hard it was to tell Harry about Ron all that time ago, but she couldn’t imagine what it was like to bare your very soul in the way Rose did. That took a great deal of courage, even amongst good friends. Rose might have felt like she was humbling herself in saying those things, but Hermione felt more than honored to be the one hearing them.

She decided to go against her better judgment and not tell Ron and Harry about Rose’s newfound, very secret love for their Potions professor.

The hours passed, and the sun soon began to fall from its highest peak. Students began to make their way from their dormitories, out to the front gates where the carriages waited to take them down to Hogsmeade station, each of them laden down with trunks, Christmas gifts, and portable lunches made especially for the trip by the House-elves.

Harry was among the last of the Gryffindors left in their common room, along with Hermione and Ron. Rose had told them that she needed to get a few things together before they left, and having grown so attached to the ginger witch, Hermione insisted that they all wait for her. But that didn’t stop Harry and Ron from shifting about the room, nervous that they would miss the carriages. They really did not want to walk down to the station in knee-deep snow.

The boys were about to grab their trunks and make a run for it when they heard the sound of footsteps, and Rose entered the room, dragging her trunk behind her. Over her jeans and jumper, she now wore a tailored tweed wool coat. Over that was her red and gold house scarf, and on her head was a knit grey hat. Her shining red hair flowed freely from underneath it. She wore those fancy black boots on her feet, and hanging just below the hem of her sleeve was the silver charm bearing the words _All-my-affection_. Harry raised his eyebrows. Rose had a fairly good sense of Muggle fashion, but this seemed a little much for a simple train ride.

“Don’t you look nice,” he said, cracking a cheeky smile. “You were up there for quite a while, what’s with the fuss?”

Rose smiled with her blush. “I’m sorry, guys, but it’s kind of a special night. I wanted to look nice coming home.”

“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good, but we really need to go,” said Ron, tugging both his aged trunk and his girlfriend, pointing at the clock. He was out of the common room with barely another word, causing the others to grab their things and rush after him. In fact, they all nearly forgot to make sure the painting closed behind them as they left.

The four of them were running by the time they got down to the gates, and they all thanked Merlin that there was one carriage left waiting.  Neville and Lavender already occupied it, accompanied by Luna and Justin respectively. There was just enough room left inside for them. It was a tight squeeze, but it would have to do. Rose made sure to position herself between Hermione and Lavender to avoid either one of them causing trouble, regardless of their boyfriends’ presence.

The whole cart was quiet for much of the ride down to the station. For the most part, they all silently communicated with their eyes, many of them, peering out the little window at the Thestral that pulled them, morbidly entranced by the sight. Then Luna spoke.

“That’s a lovely bracelet, Rose,” she said, looking at the little heart charm. “Was it a gift?”

“Uh...yeah, it was,” Rose replied, smiling awkwardly. Clearly, Luna still didn’t quite get that she wasn’t her friend. “My admirer gave it to me.”

“Oh, _All-my-affection_ ,” said Neville, nodding his head. “Did you ever find out who he was, Rose?”

Rose shook her head. “Nope, and I don’t think I ever will. He hasn’t sent me a letter in almost a month. Ron seems to think that it’s because –,”

“The poor sod must have given up,” Ron interjected. He received a gentle smack from Hermione, and he reached out to touch Rose’s arm. “I’m sorry Rose, I don’t mean to be nasty. But he missed out on a pretty good chance at that ball.”

“I know,” said Rose. “I wasn’t expecting that much anyway. No identities, no lost emotions.”

“Oh well,” Justin sighed, pulling Lavender in closer. “Sorry about that Rose, but no harm done. There’s plenty more fish in the sea.” As tacky and cliché as that statement was, Lavender swooned in Justin’s arms as though they were the words of a waxing philosopher. Rose shook her head with a smirk. Of course, they would never know that _All-my-affection_ had indeed gotten what he wanted.

Not another word was spoken on that tight and awkward ride. Perhaps it was people trying to avoid conflict (Lavender and Hermione didn’t so much as glance at each other the whole way), or perhaps it was because no one had anything of genuine value to say. It seemed that for once, everyone was more concerned about what was going on in their own heads, Rose in particular. Truthfully, she was grateful for the silence. She told them that it was a special night, but she didn’t fancy an explanation for that.

The group ended up breaking up while on the platform, off to find a place on the train. For Harry and Hermione however, being Head Boy and Girl had its perks beyond their private dormitories. They easily claimed a compartment for themselves, and they closed the door against any intruders. Rose came to find out that Harry, Ron, and Hermione wanted as much peace and quiet as they could get before the overwhelming experience that was Christmas at the Weasley Burrow.

Again, the foursome was quiet for the first few miles on the tracks. Hermione stretched out across the seat and tucked in her legs, relaxing into Ron’s chest and nuzzling into his neck. Harry stared out the window at the passing Scottish hills, and Rose tucked herself into a corner with crossed legs. She cradled a book in her lap. When Harry asked her what it was she was reading, she lifted it up and showed him the cover. Harry was rather amused by the gloomy cover of _The Most Haunted Places in London_. It was funny how Rose still read Muggle books on that topic, even when she could have found better material in the Hogwarts library.

However, the quiet didn’t last very as the four friends relaxed and started feeling the excitement that they had been robbed of in the last few years. They started joking amongst themselves, imagining what was to come in the next few days. And their peaceful revelry was capped off when Hermione reached into her handbag and pulled out a tin of chocolate-covered biscuits to chase their turkey sandwiches.

“I still wish you would consider coming out to the Burrow sometime this week,” Ron said to Rose, dusting some chocolate crumbs off his shirt. “There’s always room at the table, and Mum is always encouraging us to invite friends.”

“Don’t believe him, Rose,” Harry interjected. “He wants you to come by so Hermione and Ginny won’t be so outnumbered, like they always are.”

Rose laughed, especially when Hermione playfully huffed, muttering, “Honestly Ron, if I wasn’t used to your family by now, I don’t think I ever will be.”

“But he’s thinking of you, you must give him that,” said Rose, dancing around the subject. “Anyway, I really wish I could. But you know this is just one of those times of year when there are no compromises. I can’t really get away from my family obligations.”

“It’s not like you’re spending your time with your dad in his prison cell,” Harry said as he shook his head. Rose rolled her eyes dramatically, perhaps laying on the acting a little too thick.

“True, but I’m swapping Azkaban for Bedlam,” she sniggered before slipping into her private thoughts. _‘And then Bedlam for Paradise.’_

**~HP~**

Rose stayed with the trio just long enough to push their way through the crowds on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and pick up their trunks at the luggage car at the end of the great red train. But once she glanced down at the instructions Severus had given her the night before and looked up at the clock, a slight sense of urgency started to take over. It was seven o’clock; she didn’t have any time to spare. So stuffing her parchment back into her pocket, she turned to her friends and told them that she had to get going.

“I’ll send you an owl to let you know when we can go on our shopping trip together,” said Hermione. “I would expect it in a day or two.”

“Alright,” Rose said with a smile and a nod. “Give my love to the rest of the Weasleys, and say hi to Ginny for me.”

Hermione smiled and agreed. And after saying their various goodbyes, they went their separate ways. Rose looked back over her shoulder to watch her three friends disappear in amongst the sea of children and parents.

Now, she was on her own.

Rose stopped walking for a minute in order to shrink her trunk down until it was small enough to fit inside her patchwork handbag; it would be much easier if she didn’t have to drag that bulky thing behind her. Her eyes were scanning all around the platform as she approached the nearest gateway to the Muggle world, and she trotted through swiftly, still keeping aware of her surroundings.

Once on the other side, Rose immediately made her way through King’s Cross Station to find the ticket counters, clutching the parchment between her fingers. She was relieved that the queues were not terribly long, but that did not stop her from worrying that some terribly annoying Muggle might hold everyone up and make her miss the train. She tapped her foot on the hard floor, keeping a calm breath to calm her nerves. _‘Cokeworth, Yorkshire – you’re going to Cokeworth, Yorkshire,’_ she thought to herself. _‘You’ll make it, don’t fret. Never mind that you only have twenty minutes to get off this queue. Oh come on, mate! You don’t need to use exact change.’_ Rose was grinding her teeth as she watched the man in front of her count out every last pence, and the ticking of the clock behind her seemed to be getting louder with each one.

At last, the hapless Muggle moved out of the way and Rose stepped up to the counter. She laid out the money Severus had given her, and the woman behind the Plexiglas window slid both her change and the ticket back over to her. She pointed to the clock, advising that Rose had better hurry. Rose of course didn’t need to be told. She scurried off back toward the tracks, though not before stopping at a vending machine to buy a fizzy-drink with a few of her remaining coins. She didn’t really care what Severus said; that rubbish was made of pure sugar and it was terrible for her, but damn it, it was tasty and she missed it when she was at Hogwarts.

She carefully stepped back down onto the platform, now watching out for herself again. Every young face that passed her by was checked to make sure that they weren’t recognizable. While Rose wasn’t the most renowned girl at Hogwarts, there was still an element of risk lurking around in those evening rush masses. There were enough people who knew that she was from Kent, and would find it suspicious to see her boarding a northbound train. Needless to say, Rose swiftly made her way to Platform ten, where the train in question was waiting with open doors. And with one last subtle look around, she walked right on.

Rose ended up walking up nearly the entire length of the train in order to find a seat. As it was the evening rush, almost every car was packed with work-weary Muggles. Though none of these people knew who the hell she was or where she was going, Rose felt compelled to seek out a private spot to hide for the long trip. She finally found a suitable window seat in one of the last cars, her only company being a pair of drowsy London executives, near collapse even with mobile phones glued to their ears. Rose sat down on the isolated block of worn out cushions, kicked her feet up, and pulled her CD player out of her handbag. Knowing that she would be travelling for quite a while, Rose took advantage of being back in the Muggle world, where there was nothing to interfere with her small bits of technology. She did however make sure that no one saw her stick her arm in up to her elbow to retrieve the disks that she knew sat at the bottom of her cleverly charmed bag. She put on her headphones as the doors hissed to announce their closure, and the train started rolling out into the evening twilight.

For the next few hours, Rose was off in her own little world. She listened to CD after CD, reading an array of magazines that her mother had sent her from home. She knew that Rose liked to catch up on her Muggle pop culture when she was on a break from lessons. Occasionally, she would look out to watch the night-cloaked world go by, trying to pick out features that might give her a clue about where she was. The only time she glanced over at the Muggles who shared her space was to watch them hobble away when they pulled up to a stop. She was glad that she was alone by the time she got hungry and pulled out the small collection of chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties she had gathered together that morning. But she still made sure that every bit of wrapping went right back into her handbag where it came from.

It was a good thing that she followed the impulse to buy that soft drink because she would have been fighting off sleep without the caffeine.

Nearly three hours had passed when the conductor came over the train speakers and announced that they would be approaching their final stop momentarily. Stricken with curiosity, Rose shielded her eyes from the light and peered out the window. She saw rigid rows of brick council houses, with the silhouettes of what were likely factories looming in the distance. Odd, Rose thought to herself. Severus didn’t mention anything about living in the industrial region of Yorkshire.

It was no time before Rose felt the car lurch, and she listened to the harsh screech of the train as it came to a slow, faltering stop. Just outside the window, she saw the light of the streetlamps. She shoved her CD player back into her handbag and slung it over her shoulder, stretching briefly and adjusting her scarf as she stood up. Then very quietly, she walked off the train, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. She looked around to notice that she was alone on the rundown platform, the last passenger to disembark that evening. Behind her, she felt the rush of air as the train pulled away and vanished into the cold winter night.

The first thing that Rose noticed was the eerie silence that had hold over the streets. There were no voices, no cars, not even the echoes of the train as it left. Even though she could clearly see block after block of identical brick houses in the dim artificial light, it was as though there was no one around for miles. The silence was as deafening as ever it was. Rose felt a chill run down her spine. If it was this quiet just after ten o’clock at night, what was it like during the day?

Rose quickly got ahold of herself and let out a calming sigh, her breath freezing into mist in the frigid air. She carefully stepped down the slightly crumbling steps onto the streets below. That’s when she started looking around her. He should be here already. But all Rose could see was darkness and all she could hear was that same unsettling silence. She was trying to steady her anxieties when she suddenly heard a slow set of footsteps across the road. Rose whirled around as the dark figure stepped into the yellow light of the flickering streetlamp.

Rose might not have recognized Severus if she hadn’t been focusing so closely. After eight years of seeing him in the same black robes, it was confounding to see him walking towards her in a long, dark woolen coat and black brimmed hat. His hands were jammed into his pockets and his shoulders seemed to be trembling slightly, as though he had been standing out on the pavement for quite some time. He also seemed to be keeping his head down so that his hair shielded his face. Rose now felt the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. He was trying to appear as Muggle as he could, but it was still her Severus.

Rose walked across the street, slowly as to not attract any attention that might be there. And once she stood before the dark-haired wizard, she tilted her head to peer under the hat that shaded his face. “I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said with a subtle smile.

“With the Muggles around here, it’s better to blend in,” said Severus, his dark eyes also keeping a fair amount of surveillance. “Did you have any trouble on the way?”

“Not at all,” Rose replied. She carefully brushed back locks of black hair to stroke Severus’s face. “Oh thank Merlin, you’re here.”

“I promised I would be.” Severus took Rose’s lithe hand and gave it a light squeeze before guiding it back down to her side. He then motioned for Rose to follow him and the couple started down the street together.

The walk turned out to be a little longer than Rose initially anticipated, though that might have been due to the seemingly endless number of blocks they passed by. The entire way, Severus didn’t open his mouth to speak, nor did he touch her in any way. Rose understood that discretion was their best option, and it planted her shivering hands firmly in her pockets in response. So instead, she used the time to look around.

It was almost like she was in a completely different world. This was not the lush, peaceful, welcoming atmosphere of her quant little village. This town was harsh, as hard as the stone it was built upon. It was tightly closed in, and there was simply no room for individuality in these homes. The air felt hostile toward any form of life, even without the frosty chill. And now Rose could make out the form of a tall smokestack looming over the horizon. She had often heard of these old mill towns, how they weren’t exactly most people’s idea of a dream neighborhood. But never had she heard of a town so devoid of human existence. Was there really anyone there besides them?

The houses all looked to be in some form of disrepair, but Rose noticed that they further they walked, the more rundown and dilapidated they appeared. When they came to the street sign reading Spinner’s End and turned the corner, Rose was a little upset to see the shutters just barely hanging on to their hinges, and windows that appeared to have been long boarded up.

Sympathy for Severus welled up inside. No wonder he never came home for the holidays! Who would want to come home to this?

At last, they came up on the house at the very end of the street. Severus glanced around as he reached into his coat and pulled out his wand. He muttered a very soft charm, and the lock of the tarnished door handle clicked. The Potions master pushed the door open, wincing at the creaking it produced, and he beckoned Rose to come inside. Once his young lover was standing in his entrance hall, Severus closed the door securely behind them, whispering charms to both lock them in, and to keep intruders out.

The room was dark, almost too dark for Rose’s liking. But a wave of Severus’s hand fixed that, and the lights flickered on around them. Rose found herself staring at a slightly more aged version of Severus’s personal quarters at Hogwarts. Books covered the walls, though the bindings were worn and torn, and the furniture was rather threadbare. The room had a closed in, almost claustrophobic feel. And Rose noticed how it smelled rather potently of the cleaning potions she used when cleaning Severus’s classroom. But she didn’t care a bit. If Severus liked it, then it was alright with her. Besides, lived-in could morph into homey if you set your mind to it.

Both Rose and Severus took a minute to shed their outer clothing and hang them on the hooks fixed to the wall by the door. Rose then walked out to stand in the middle of the sitting room and turned back to face Severus. They stood still for a moment, taking in the reality that they were there, and that they were together. And the love and desire it stirred up soon became too much. Severus walked up to Rose in time to catch the passionate kiss that Rose leaned up to give.

It was a good minute before they came up for air, though they didn’t move out of each other’s grasp. “I missed you this morning,” Rose said with a smile.

“I know,” said Severus. “Today had to be one of the longer days of my life, no matter how busy I was. Oh Rosie, thank you for being here.”

“Thank you for allowing me to be here.” Rose replied. She kissed him once more before saying, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sleep for three days.”

Severus smirked. “Yes, I admit that I’m not fairing much better. I spent much of the day preparing for you. I forgot how much work it took to make this place look presentable, I’m exhausted!”

“Then I shall not keep you up any longer.” Rose stepped away to grab her handbag. She turned back to Severus, a little awkwardly as she approached her next question. “So…what are my sleeping arrangements?”

“I thought I would leave that up to you,” said Severus, fingering his wand. He waved it once at one of his bookcases, and it swung out slowly to reveal a small set of stairs. Rose raised her eyebrows as Severus continued speaking. “We could share my bed. But if you’re uncomfortable with that idea, I have a spare room upstairs. I’m not going to push you into something that you are not ready for.”

Oh, did he have to give her the option?! Obviously, Rose’s first instinct was to run up those steps and jump into Severus’s bed. But instinct in this case would be overruled by common sense. She and Severus had only been together for just about a month. Though there was no doubt that their love for each other was strong, they were still feeling their way through their relationship. As affectionate as she could be, Rose felt that they should take their intimacy as slowly as they could, and it wasn’t even for her benefit. This was a new experience for Severus as well, and Rose wanted to respect his needs as well as hers. She wanted to be close to Severus, and she wanted to feel his hands all over her. But in the meantime, she would have to try and restrain herself. Intimacy would come in time.

“I guess I’ll stay in the extra room,” she said, reaching into her handbag to retrieve her shrunken trunk. “Although, I must ask, were any Death Eaters harbored up there recently?”

Severus sighed at the question. “I cannot exactly lie to you, Rose. Yes, I have housed a Death Eater or two in that room. But not to worry, I cleaned out anything that they might have left behind, and I destroyed the original mattress.”

“Aw Severus, you didn’t have to do that,” said Rose. “I was just curious.”

“No, no, I would not have someone as wonderful as you sleep on the same mattress as something like that.” Severus then tapped Rose’s shoulder and guided her toward the stairs. “You go up first. It’s the first door on the left.”

Rose carefully walked up the steps, listening to the spine-chilling creak as the old wood bowed slightly under her boots. At the top, three doors stood before her in the short stretch of hallway. Following Severus’s instructions, she turned to the left and gently turned the doorknob. The door gently squeaked open, and the Gryffindor peered in. The room, as plain as it was, actually had a somewhat comfortable feel to it. The white walls had not a single smudge or fingerprint on them, and the windows were covered by fine linen curtains. The bed was made of mahogany, along with the dresser and bedside table. And Rose noticed that it had been made up very recently with fresh sheets. It looked rather like one of the French bed-and-breakfast inns that she and her mother had once stayed at while on holiday. She didn’t have a clue how the room looked before that morning, but Rose gave Severus a lot of credit for spiffing it up to this level.

She silently walked over to the bed and sat down to test the mattress. To Rose’s surprise, it felt more comfortable than the bed she slept on at home. Severus, or rather his transfiguration skills were certainly making it difficult to sleep in a separate room. The simple thought of falling asleep made Rose let out a yawn.

Severus came into the room just as Rose was unshrinking her trunk on the floor beside the dresser, getting on her knees to open it up. “Alright Rose, you just make yourself comfortable. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Sev, you don’t have to do anything,” Rose said as she got up and walked over to Severus. He took her hands in his. “I can tell that you’ve been at it all day, and you’re tired. You just go off to bed and relax. If I need anything, I can manage myself. Remember, I’m here for you.”

Severus let out a quick sigh as he smiled at Rose’s shining eyes. He gently kissed her forehead. “Anything you say, Rosie,” he said. “I just want you to be as comfortable as possible while you are here. I wouldn’t want to make you regret coming all this way.”

“Nonsense,” Rose giggled. She returned the affectionate favor with a peck to Severus’s pale cheek.

“Now, if there really is anything you need, anything at all, I’m right down the hall.” Rose nodded at Severus with a smile. And with that, they bid each other good night.

**~HP~**

 In his own bedroom, Severus lifted his Glamour Charm before changing into his greying nightshirt. He then relaxed into the bed, absentmindedly resting one hand on his swelling stomach. For the most part, he was quite proud of himself. He had come up with a wonderful plan to get the girl he loved out to Spinner’s End without being detected. He managed to straighten up his entire house preparing for her arrival, mostly without resting, and often ignoring Poppy’s orders against strenuous work. He knew that he shouldn’t be doing that with his pregnancy, but what Poppy and Albus didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He had successfully picked up Rose at the train station without alerting the Muggles to her presence. And now she slept in his extra room, safe and sound.

He allowed himself a moment for a very shrug smile.

But the feeling didn’t last, especially after he realized where his tired hand had laid. Poppy had told him before he left Hogwarts that he should use magic to conceal his growing bump as little as possible. That would complicate matters with having Rose there. So that basically left Severus with two options. Either he could be really clever and continue to beat around the bush while Rose was around, or he could save himself the trouble and tell Rose about his condition.

The desire to have her know and understand reared up in him again. If he told her about the baby, then he wouldn’t have to hide anything from her anymore. He wouldn’t have to keep making excuses for his odd behavior. And perhaps, he would gain the support of the one person who really mattered, the one person he would really want to be an active part in his child’s life.

But there was still that nagging feeling of doubt. What if he poured out his heart and soul to her only to have her not react as he hoped? Rose was understanding and very compassionate, but that did not make up for the fact that she was still so young. There was hardly any chance that she had heard of male pregnancy in their world. She could be horrified when faced with his condition. She could misinterpret how the child was conceived and think that what they had was a rebound romance. Even if he explained that it had been forced on him, she might not believe him. And horror of all horrors, Severus thought, she probably wouldn’t want anything more to do with him.

No, she couldn’t know yet.

He rolled over onto his side and pulled the blankets over his emaciated pregnant body. He was surprised at how cold his bed was. He was so used to coming back to it in June, so much so that he hadn’t thought that sheets could retain cold air if left unattended for months at a time. And the one time he could appreciate a little relief, there wasn’t much. He curled in around his stomach, taking pleasure in knowing that his unborn baby didn’t have the same problem.

As he drifted off into sleep, Severus now deeply regretted that his only source of warmth was asleep in the other room. He made a mental note that once he had given birth and brought his child home that summer, he should think about investing in a better Muggle heating system.

**~HP~**

Severus had been completely engulfed in a deep sleep when he was suddenly awakened by a soft noise. His door was creaking open, and someone whispered softly. Instinctively, his eyes snapped open and his hand reached for his wand on the bedside table. A silent charm lit the tip and Severus pointed towards the doorway, holding his breath slightly.

“Severus…?” Rose stood in the doorway in purple and white tartan pajama bottoms and a pale purple thermal top, her arms wrapped around herself. Even from there in such darkness, Severus could tell that she was shivering. He lowered his wand. “Rose…what time is it?”

“It’s almost half past one in the morning,” Rose whispered. “Did I wake you, love? I’m so sorry.”

“No Rose, that’s alright.” Severus motioned for her to come closer as he sat up in bed, being very careful to make sure that his baby-bump remained covered by the blankets. “What are you doing up?”

Rose slowly walked over to the bed, but stayed standing. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you alright?” asked Severus, switching on the bedside lamp.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Rose nodded. “I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

“It’s not too cold in there, is it?”

“Well, it is cold. It’s cold in here too. But it’s not that, believe me.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Severus held out his hand to Rose. She timidly took it and Severus gently brought her closer to the bed. She sat down on the edge as Severus moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her. The shivering in Rose’s shoulders eased up a little. Severus rubbed his hand up and down her arm, trying to warm her up some more. “Tell me.”

“Well,” Rose glanced down at her hands, as though she was embarrassed. But she then met Severus’s deep ebony eyes. “I…I think I changed my mind about where I want to sleep.”

Severus almost froze for a moment, but that feeling ebbed away when he realized what Rose was trying to say. “You would rather sleep in here with me?”

“Yeah,” Rose whispered. “I was a fool to think that I could sleep alone with you so close by. Severus, I’ve been tossing and turning for an hour in the other room. I would much rather be with you than freeze alone.”

The slight disappointment that Severus had gone upstairs with suddenly disappeared. He felt that he and Rose would get to the point of sharing a bed sometime, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. But if Rose was comfortable with it, then so was he. “Are you sure,” he asked, hanging on Rose’s quiet breath.

Rose nodded with a smile. “Yes…I’m sure.”

Severus took his arm back and shifted to the far side of the bed. He still remained cautious of his covered stomach, though Rose didn’t seem to notice. He turned back the covers on the side where Rose sat, and very slowly, Rose eased her body under the blankets and settled down next to Severus. He tucked her in slightly and settled back down himself. “Is that better?” he asked her.

“Much,” Rose smiled, inching a bit closer.

Severus let his long fingers drift tenderly down Rose’s soft face as they both drifted back into sleep. For the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, he was thrilled with himself and everything around him. He finally had the woman he loved in bed with him, however innocent it was. He loved feeling the warmth of her body radiating over to him. The sound of her light breathing was enough to make him melt. And did he smell the faintest trace of cherry blossom perfume? He suddenly found himself quietly tittering in pure love and pleasure.

“What’s so funny?” asked Rose, opening her eyes slightly.

“Nothing Rosie,” said Severus. “It’s just having you here, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“What? Did you think we would never sleep together?”

“Well…no. I cannot lie to you, I’m still waiting to wake up from this dream I’ve been living since you came into my life. I never once thought that we would come this far. Oh Rose, you have no idea how much I love you.”

“I think I do,” Rose cooed. “And I know the feeling. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you more than anyone else in the world. I love you more than life itself.”

“Enough to endure a full day’s travel in cramped train compartments?” Severus asked, sarcasm getting the better of him.

“Anything for you, Sev,” replied Rose, lacing their fingers together and resting their joined hands on the pillow. She cuddled closer to her lover’s warm body and surrendered to the peaceful dreams waiting patiently at the back of her sleepy mind.


	49. Life's little pleasures

The morning came much too soon for Severus, who woke out of the most peaceful sleep he’d had in a long time. Still half-asleep, the Potions master rolled over in bed, expecting to find a sleeping girl next to him. But to his dazed bewilderment, all he could feel was cold sheets. Severus’s eyes snapped open and he eased up to sit in bed. Rose was nowhere to be seen, though the bedroom door stood wide open. Severus clambered to his feet and grabbed the grey dressing gown hanging from the back of the door before stepping out into the hall.

His small bathroom was empty, and the shower had obviously not been used that morning. And a quick look into the spare bedroom showed that Rose had not done what Severus feared and went back to the other room in the middle of the night. But he saw that her trunk was still there. Severus sighed; at least she was still in the house. He then did the sensible thing and headed downstairs.

Severus noticed immediately upon entering his sitting room that there was a delightful smell wafting out of the kitchen, truly bizarre from his point of view. His mother hadn’t been much of a cook when he was a child, and he had often forgone well put together meals. He had no one else to cook for, so what was the point? And if that wasn’t strange enough, Severus looked down at one of his low tables and saw that a small television set was sitting on it. Alright, that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. Would that blasted thing even work in this house? Severus shook his head and made his way over to the kitchen, stopping just short of the open doorway. He paused for a moment to listen to Rose humming some holiday song he had long since forgotten, causing him to step into the kitchen with a relaxed smirk on his face.

Bundled up in her own burgundy dressing gown, Rose was busy as a bee as she floated from one side of the kitchen to the other. She stood over the hot stove, effortlessly flipping slices of bacon with short twirls of her wand. Severus noticed that a plateful of scrambled eggs already sat on the counter, still steaming with freshness. And just to the side of that, a waffle iron was working away at cooking the buttery batter Rose had whipped up. Where did that come from all of a sudden?

Severus cleared his throat a bit, and Rose turned her head to where he stood in the doorway. She smiled brightly at him as she said, “I hope that you don’t mind waffles.”

“Rose, what are you doing?” Severus asked with a smirk.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making breakfast.” Rose let the bacon sizzle some more as she opened the iron and extracted a perfectly formed golden waffle.

“Oh Rose, you didn’t have to do that,” said Severus, stepping further into the kitchen. “You’re on holiday. You could have had a lie-in, and…” He paused when he noticed how the pan their bacon was cooking in was on the long-broken burner. Regardless of that, a strong flame burned steadily under the cast iron. “How did you get that burner to work?”

“Probably the same way you do,” said Rose. “A little gas, a little spark from my wand, and Bob’s your uncle. Not that difficult, love.”

Severus shook his head with a smirk. That was exactly what he had done in the past, although he was usually careful to ignore that particular household malfunction. He looked around the room at what Rose had already done, and he watched her pour a second helping of batter into the waffle iron, pressing it closed with a hiss. “Where did you get this waffle iron, and the television in the other room?”

“The television I had with me at Hogwarts,” Rose explained, now going into the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of milk and some butter. “Remember how I told you that I was experimenting with magic and Muggle appliances? Well, that was one of the things I’ve tweaked to work without electricity. I’ve been keeping it packed away in my trunk, waiting for a chance to show it off to Professor Wicker.”

“Really?” Severus raised his brow. “I must ask, how does that work?”

“Well, it’s a matter of using some simple spells to do some pretty mundane things, but they won’t work unless you know what you’re looking for. One spell keeps it running, entirely by magic, while another one picks up the frequencies around the area so we can actually watch telly. In a way, we’re kind of tapped into someone’s cable service without running up an additional fee or breaking any Muggle laws. So we’re set for the week.”

Severus nodded, very impressed at this creative manipulation of magic. No doubt that ate up much of Rose’s time over the summer, and he was glad that she would finally get to see the fruit of her labors. He wasn’t sure if that slight thievery was entirely legal, but he couldn’t name any specific Wizarding law that prohibited it. Rose was likely delving into a largely unexplored territory, and the law would need a few years to catch up.

A pinging noise alerted Rose that the second waffle was cooked through, and Severus was reminded of his other inquiry. He walked over to stand beside Rose, gesturing to the waffle iron. “I take it that this is another one of your experiments?”

“No, this I transfigured from my compact mirror,” said Rose as she plated the hot, delightfully-smelling creation. Severus cocked a surprised eyebrow. “You can do that?”

Rose giggled as she looked up at her Slytherin lover. “I’m not as bad at Transfiguration as Professor McGonagall probably makes me out to be. Just because I get my work in late half the time doesn’t mean that I can’t do it. It wasn’t easy, and it took a few tries to get it right, but it was worth the effort. I just hope these taste as good as they look.”

“I’m sure they do,” said Severus. He leaned against the counter as Rose took out her wand to levitate the finished bacon out of the pan. “But why go to so much trouble? You really did not have to lift a finger.”

“It was no trouble at all, Sev,” said Rose. “I got up and did this because I wanted to spoil you for a change. You did so much yesterday, and all of it was for me. You made sure I got here safely, you straightened up this house, and judging from the amount of food in the refrigerator, you were at the market sometime yesterday. It’s time that you sat back and let me take over for a while. I don’t want you to wait on me hand and foot the entire time that I’m here. If anything, I want to wait on you. Severus, the least I could do is make you breakfast.”

Rose turned to start looking in cabinets and drawers for proper cutlery. Severus took the opportunity to get a good whiff of the waffles that sat waiting on the counter, and his mouth started to water. They really did smell wonderful, and he was rather hungry that morning. He wondered if was because of his excessive efforts the day before, or perhaps it was the baby messing around with his appetite again.

The baby!

Severus looked down to notice that his dressing gown hung open, leaving his abdomen exposed. He quickly wrapped himself up, making sure his bump was not very obvious. As Rose’s back was turned, she didn’t see him do this. Severus hoped that his nightshirt hid his pregnancy effectively enough to keep the girl at bay, and if not, hopefully Rose wouldn’t notice too much. After all, a loose fitting nightshirt had the advantage over his closely tailored frock coats.

As soon as Rose was finished setting the table, she grabbed Severus’s hand and tugged him over. They sat down together and Rose brought forth her wand one more time to levitate the plates of finished food over to the table.

Severus’s eyes almost rolled into the back of his head at his first bite of those waffles. They were perfectly golden on the outside, while remaining soft and fluffy on the inside. And the buttermilk taste gave the illusion that each morsel melted in your mouth. The bacon and eggs were also cooked to perfection. Severus didn’t know if it was Rose’s own natural skill in the kitchen or a trick that her mother had passed down to her, but something was working wonders on him and his taste buds. Since Rose seemed so keen on preparing their meals, Severus wondered what else she had in mind for the coming days.

They had both finished most of their breakfast and Severus was tenderly touching Rose’s hand on the table when there was a sharp rapping at the windowpane. Rose looked up curiously before standing and crossing the kitchen. She carefully opened the window, letting in the tiny Scops owl. “Oh Pigwidgeon,” she said with raised eyebrows. She was expecting it to be a larger post owl, preferably one bearing their morning _Prophet._

“Sweet Merlin, is that Weasley’s owl?” Severus asked, taking a sip from his glass of milk. Rose nodded with a smirk. She noticed that the little bird was clasping an envelope in his beak, which she saw was addressed to her. Very carefully, she took it and then offered one of her last scraps of bacon to the owl. Pigwidgeon quickly ate it up and then settled down on the windowsill to regain his strength to fly. Seeing this, Rose closed the window, shutting out the winter air again.

“Your little friends couldn’t go one day without hearing from you?”

“Never you mind, Sev,” said Rose, playfully scolding the wizard. She sat down at the table again as she tore the envelope open and read the letter inside.

_Rose,_

_So sorry to send this so suddenly; I myself wasn’t expecting to be writing to you this soon. I just wanted to let you know that I will be at Diagon Alley today, and I was hoping that you would still like to meet me there. I know that this is a bit unexpected, and I don’t know what your plans are today. But it would mean a lot to me if you were able to get away for the day. It would be much more fun to finish up my shopping with a friend in tow._

_I was hoping to be out by noon, if that’s possible for you. Please send me a response as quickly as you can. Pig is quick to fly, and I would like to know what is going on before I leave._

_Hermione_

“So what is this all about?” asked Severus.

Rose hesitated slightly. She wasn’t sure how Severus would react to her preplanned outing with Hermione, and she hadn’t really given much thought as to how she would explain it to her boyfriend. “Um Severus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. Before we left Hogwarts, Hermione and I made plans to spend time together at Diagon Alley. You know, an afternoon with just the two of us. However, I didn’t think it would be this soon.”

“Did you make these plans before committing to coming here?”

“Well…not exactly,” Rose said with a wrinkled brow. “She asked me just as I was heading down to say yes to you. I’m sorry Sev, but I couldn’t say no to her. Please don’t be annoyed at Hermione, she couldn’t have known. If you should be upset at anyone, it’s me.”

Severus stared down at the tile floor for a brief moment. He then shook his head, letting out a sigh. “I’m not annoyed, Rose,” he said. “I understand that you need time with your friends. But I really would have appreciated it if you told me about this sooner. I wasn’t exactly anticipating you leaving this house, for whatever reason.”

“If you don’t want me to go, I can decline the offer,” said Rose.

“You don’t have to do that,” Severus retorted, holding up a hand. “Rose, I am not your father. I cannot control what you do, nor do I have any desire to do so. If you want to do something, I can hardly stand in your way.”

“Does that mean I can go?” Rose’s eyes brighten as her eyebrows perked up. Severus stood up and walked over to plant a gentle peck on Rose’s forehead. “You can have your fun with Granger, but only if you’re careful. You can’t give Granger any indications of where you are coming from, or where you are going from there.”

“Oh, I know,” said Rose. “But I know where I’m going this time. It should relatively easy to get to London and back.”

“I repeat, only if you’re careful.” Severus crossed the kitchen and bent over to rummage through a low cabinet. Rose turned in her seat to better face him. “What are you doing, Sev?”

“Well Rose,” Severus started, and there was a heavy ‘clank’ on the stove top. He stepped aside to show Rose the well-worn kettle. “If I’m going to be thinking up a plan to get you from here to Diagon Alley and back again unnoticed, I’ll need some tea to wake me up completely.”

_‘There he goes, wanting to take care of me again.’_ Rose hid her giggling smirk behind her hand. She already had a few ideas of her own that she would suggest to Severus once he had some time to think. She knew that Severus wanted to keep both her and their relationship safe and happy, and would do whatever he could to achieve that. But they could do that working together, couldn’t they?

Severus set himself to preparing the kettle, while Rose summoned a quill and a bottle of ink from her trunk upstairs, as well as a sheet of parchment from her handbag. She took only about a minute to think before she started scribbling out a response to Hermione.

_Hermione,_

_Luckily, I am free today, and yes, I would love to meet you. I promised you that I would, and when have you ever known me to break a promise? I will meet you inside the Leaky Cauldron at 12:30 this afternoon, and we could head over to Gringotts from there._

_See you soon._

_Rose_

Before her signature could dry, Rose folded up the note into a little square, and she approached the owl sitting on the windowsill. She explained to Pigwidgeon how he should take the note back to Hermione, and she offered another scrap of bacon to be sure of that. She then opened the window again, and Ron’s little owl fluttered out into the morning air. Rose watched him fly away before pulling the glass pane closed again.

**~HP~**

Wrapped tightly in her tweed coat and house scarf with her handbag slung over her shoulder, Rose stood in the entrance hall with Severus, bidding him goodbye before she left for London. After an hour or two of debating and compromising, they had come to the conclusion that their best option was for Rose to Apparate both ways, sparing any sort of explanations that the Floo network might have required. Hermione assumed after all that she would be coming from Meadow Hill, where there wasn’t another witch of wizard to be found, and Rose doubted that she would buy the idea of her loony mother allowing her fireplace to be opened up to the Floo network. Rose had suggested that she take that Knight Bus thing that Harry once told her about, but Severus was quick to point out that they didn’t know who was riding that thing at any given time. Also, it would look a little suspicious to the conductor to take a lovely, perfectly composed young lady and drop her off in a dilapidated mill town.

“Remember, you have to go into the trees before you Disapparate,” Severus told Rose, caressing her face in his hands. “I know it doesn’t look it, but I actually do have neighbors, and we don’t want them seeing anything.”

“Don’t fret, Severus,” said Rose, gently gripping her boyfriend’s wrist. “I know what to do. And I will Apparate back into the woods when I’m finished. Are you sure that you don’t want to come along and follow us, just to make sure we’re okay?”

“There’s too much risk,” Severus replied. “Besides, you and Granger are both very capable witches, and you don’t need someone to watch over you at all times. I know you will be alright out there, I just can’t help but worry about you sometimes.”

“Don’t I know how that feels?” Rose leaned up to gently kiss Severus’s thin lips. “I promise you, I will be back before nightfall.”

“Very well,” Severus said with a sigh. The couple exchanged one last tender kiss, and Rose softly told Severus that she loved him. Severus lovingly matched her sentiments, leaving Rose with a blush in her cheeks that would do nicely for the brisk December day. She could barely tear herself away from the Potions master to turn the door handle. But she managed somehow, and with a last adoring glance over her shoulder, she stepped out into the Muggle streets.

Severus watched the door swing closed, and he turned back to walk into the sitting room. He carefully reached into his robes and brought forth his wand, waiting and listening. It was only after he heard a loud, sharp crack cut through the air that he lifted his Glamour Charm. Glancing down at his rounded stomach, Severus unceremoniously dropped his wand down onto a low table and eased down into his chair by the fire. He looked around the cold room, subtly rubbing the spot where his unborn child lay nestled.

Rose hadn’t been gone ten minutes and already, he missed her. This was exactly why he had been hesitant to let her go in the first place. It wasn’t that Severus wanted to keep Rose from her friends; a pack of rabid werewolves couldn’t come between that particular Gryffindor and her closest companions. It wasn’t even because he feared for the safety of their romance. Severus was thinking of only one thing when he brought Rose out to Spinner’s End, and that was how he wanted to avoid another lonely holiday. By letting her leave, even if it was just for the afternoon, he invited that blasted isolation back into his home. Severus sighed and summoned a book off a shelf across the room, resigning himself to a long few hours of waiting for Rose’s return.

All of a sudden, the tattered book fell to the floor, and Severus froze in his seat, his hand flying back to his stomach. He had felt the strangest sensation coming from within, a feeling unlike any he had felt before. It wasn’t painful, but definitely most peculiar. It had actually come and gone so quickly that it almost wasn’t noticeable. Severus however remained where he was, unwilling to let this pass without resolving his bewilderment.

He waited, his breath barely audible as he sat motionless. A few minutes later, it came again. It felt as though something was brushing up against the inside of his abdomen, followed by a quick twitch. And it took a few minutes before Severus realized what this was. What he was feeling was the baby’s first sporadic bursts of movement.

What was a sinking lonesomeness melted into immense joy, and a smile broke out across the Potions master’s face. He was amazed that such a small event could make him forget all those weeks of exhausting pondering. In that brief instant, he finally felt connected to the little life he carried. At last, he felt like he was an expectant parent. Severus relaxed back into his chair to further relish in his child’s quick twists, turns, and kicks. It was a pity that Rose had to leave when she did, pity she still wasn’t in on this little secret, because this moment would have been even more extraordinary and special if Severus had been able to share it with her.

**~HP~**

Hermione was waiting patiently at a table in the Leaky Cauldron when Rose strolled in, not a hair out of place after Apparating into the dingy alley down the street. Having very narrowly avoided being seen by a passing Muggle woman and her young son, her pulse was quickened, and Rose had to stifle the urge to ask for a shot of Fire Whiskey. Hermione rose from her seat as Rose approached her little corner spot. Considering that it had barely been thirty-six hours since they last saw each other, the two young witches decided against wasting time with drawn out greetings. Instead, they opted to bundle themselves up against the cold and venture out back to the wall that separated them from the magical world on the other side.

Diagon Alley was almost packed to capacity. With Christmas only three days away, just the way it was in the Muggle shopping centers, every careless or overwhelmed procrastinator decided that this was as lovely a day as any to finish with their business, and they crowded into the shops in a thundering mob. Rose and Hermione had to hang onto each other’s sleeves and handbag straps just to keep themselves from getting separated. And every time they pushed out into a pocket of open space, they found themselves puffing for breath. Neither of them had a problem with claustrophobia, but conditions like this could have the most obstinate wizard hyperventilating in a corner.

Luckily for them, the only folks who congested the marble halls of Gringotts bank were goblins and a few hassled-looking Ministry businessmen. Both girls sighed as they detached themselves from each other and walked together, relieved to finally have some room to breathe, let alone walk freely. They each had their keys out and ready when they stepped up to the high counter, and a cart was brought in so that they might go down to the vaults together. Rose was slightly amused to see how tightly Hermione hung onto the rails; she never did like speedy transportation, that girl.

They were first taken to Hermione’s vault, where she had a small stash of money that her parents had started for her. Once the Head Girl gathered together a few handfuls of sickles and galleons, they continued on, going deeper under the city toward Rose’s vault. While it was considerably deeper than the level where the Weasleys kept their small family nest egg, it was nowhere near the high security that protected the rest of the Beckett fortune. Rose explained that if she and her father got on a little better, then she might not have had to worry about keeping track of her little brass key, which she had nearly lost on two separate occasions. She would be down near Alistair’s personal vault, which was supposedly protected by complex charms. But the silver lining was that they would be out of that deep, dank underground cave a lot quicker.

Hermione was more than a little stunned when she got a look inside Vault 612 and saw the piles of gold that Rose had accumulated over the years. But Rose just shook her head as she went to fill up her soft, velvet pouch. “This is a drop in the bucket compared to my dad’s real fortune.”

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked, stilling glancing around at the stacked galleons. Perhaps Rose was more frugal than she originally thought if she managed to conserve this much of her savings.

“That’s easy,” said Rose counting out some silver sickles in her hand. “Just take a cart down to his vault sometime. Gold all the way up to the ceiling, and probably only a fraction of that is from his own work. Of course, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got some other stash hoarded away in a mattress somewhere.”

Hermione shook her head with a chuckle. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. He can’t be that paranoid.”

“Hey, you don’t know him.” Rose stepped out of the vault, with Hermione close behind, and their crotchety goblin guide shut the door with a low, mechanical creak.

Once they returned to the surface and were out in the bright sunshine again, Hermione and Rose had to once again resort to their practice of clinging to each other for dear life now that they had to actually force their way into the shops. While they would have preferred a more polite way of going about their business in amongst everyone else’s, they found that sometimes to only way to get anything done was with force. So they tried to take as much pleasure as they could while shoving their way through the crowds toward the propped-open shop doors, trying really hard not to knock over people’s children.

A daring venture into Madam Malkin’s produced a charming scarf for Mrs. Weasley, much like the one Rose received all those weeks ago. Hermione had hoped to find one of those dazzling, multicolored accessories, but it seemed that Rose’s innocuous secret admirer had the right idea when he beat the holiday rush. She instead settled on soft silk of royal blue; the Weasley matriarch could always use a little splash of some sort of color. Rose meanwhile picked out an eye-catching belt for her mother, and it was a bonus that it used some light charms to ward off unwanted attention. She planned to ask Severus to help her alter those charms, thus stopping her mother from ever being approached by another obnoxious drunk again, and Mummy dearest would have no idea. Rose could have felt guilty about such deceit, but she thought her mother was getting a pretty good deal. She was getting a nice accessory and a chance to meet reasonable men at a pub! Sometimes, Charlotte Waverly’s self-imposed ignorance came in terrifically handy.

Ginny would be getting some new Quidditch gloves this year, which was Hermione’s part in a Weasley family goal towards a whole new uniform. And Rose ended up picking up a book on some of Britain’s greatest Keepers for Ron. She asked Hermione what she was getting for her boyfriend, but the Head Girl just smiled and said that she had something already. Rose impishly wondered what exactly that meant, but she would have to wait until they were back at Hogwarts to see for herself.

That just left Harry. For this, Hermione led the way through the alley, and brought Rose up to the door of Eeylops’s Owl Emporium. The red-haired witch looked at her with bewildered eyes before Hermione turned to her.

“We’re getting Harry a new owl,” she explained. “Ron scrounged together some of the money, and we’re going to buy it together.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea,” asked Rose. She remembered how attached Harry was to his loyal snowy owl in the past.

“It’s been over a year since he lost Hedwig,” said Hermione. “She was a wonderful owl, but he’s had enough time to grieve. Besides, he could really use a new post owl. He was actually talking about how he was thinking about a new owl back in September. Ron and I want to give him the one thing he could really use.”

Rose smiled at her friend’s generosity, and she fished around in her handbag for her coin purse. She handed Hermione a handful of gold and said, “I want to get in on this, here’s a few galleons. Tell Harry that this is my gift to him.” Rose also ended up shelling out for most of the cost of a new brass birdcage. Harry had gone above and beyond being a support for her these last few months, and Rose thought that this was a great opportunity to finally repay him for that kindness.

Various brown-wrapped packages lay at the girls’ feet as they sat at a little outdoor table. They had been browsing around for a while when they found that they could no longer resist the urge for something sweet, and they were pleased to see that Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlor had been reopened under the new management of the late proprietor’s niece. Needless to say, neither of them objected to the idea of sharing a hot fudge sundae while they rested their feet for a bit.

“Have you ever thought about reaching out to your father?” Hermione asked, gathering up a spoonful of strawberry ice cream. It was a question that she had been meaning to ask for quite some time, but the trouble was finding the right moment to bring it up with Rose. She however realized long ago that no time was a good time for that particular conversation, and now it was better to just go for it while the ginger-haired Gryffindor was calm and carefree. “I mean, other than the letter regarding his Ministry custody, you actually haven’t talked to him for over a year or two. Haven’t you considered writing to him at Azkaban?”

“Hermione, why would I do something like that?” said Rose, shaking her head. “He hardly ever reaches out to me. He barely offered me a Happy Christmas! Why should I bother with him?”

“But don’t you ever think that there could be a chance that it could get better between you?”

Rose snorted, reaching for a chunk of vanilla-covered banana. “I gave up on that a long time ago. It’s useless to even try at this point in my life. Listen Hermione, I’ve told you about my dad. I told you what an arsehole he can be; he has been my entire life. And the sad part about it is that I know he’s never going to change. I just don’t need that, I can’t take it anymore.”

“You would really consider cutting him out of your life?” Hermione asked with raised eyebrows. All Rose could do was to shrug her shoulders with a defeated frown. “Honestly, I don’t care if he gets out of prison and I never see him again.”

Hermione frown, almost letting her spoon slip from her fingers. “Oh Rose…”

“No, I mean it,” said Rose, rather calmly to her friend’s puzzlement. “As a lot of Muggles have told me, any man can be a father. But there’s a huge difference between being a father and being a dad. And I don’t think he ever truly was my dad. He supported me, but only because he had to. He was probably going to walk out of my life completely anyway once he’s through with that damn divorce agreement. So I like to think of it as beating him to the punch.”

“But he will still always be your father,” reminded Hermione. “As much as you would like to, you can’t deny that. I know he’s a despicable wizard, but he has done his part to bring you up, however minimal. You wouldn’t be on your feet financially if he didn’t pay such generous child support. And regardless of what you might believe, he could be partly the reason why you are sitting here today. If he hated you as much as you claim, he would have gladly sent the Death Eaters to murder you. I think if you both put a little effort into your relationship, then perhaps you could have something a bit more meaningful.”

Rose sighed, shaking her head. “I know you mean well, Hermione. But as far as I can see, my father doesn’t have the effort to give, and therefore, he doesn’t deserve mine.”

Hermione shook her head, though it was more to herself. It was always disturbing to hear a child talk of a parent with such disregard, and Rose it seemed was beginning to treat her father with the same callousness that he had long dealt onto her. But it was because of Rose that Hermione held onto the hope to one day see that relationship mended. All she really wanted for her best friend was to see her happy, and she did not deserve to go through life carrying the guilt of turning her back on family. Rose already had enough to think about without those fleeting thoughts of emotional anguish left behind by Alistair Beckett, what with her secret deep feelings for their Potions professor.

“What do you think Snape would say about this?” asked Hermione, unable to resist. She figured that the thought of Snape would brighten up the discussion for Rose, given what she had been told the other day.

Rose paused, her ice cream covered spoon mere millimeters from her lips. She hadn’t expected for Severus to come up that day, and the idea of Hermione inquiring about him made her slightly uneasy. As harmless as it was, she might well have been pressing to know if Rose was up to no good that week. It was as though Hermione could somehow sense that she slept in Snape’s bed the night before. Rose let her eyes wander down to the cobblestone pavement as she thought of a response. Then she remembered those long discussions with her beloved Potions master, and the way it felt to wake up beside him. She smiled with a pinkish blush in her freckled cheeks.

“Considering that Snape isn’t very fond of my dad either, I think he would have no choice but to agree with me.” Rose giggled, coaxing a little laugh out of Hermione as well. She was still hesitant to show her love for Severus, especially in the middle of everyone like that. But as long as Hermione believed her love to be innocent, then Rose had nothing real to fear, at least for now. She let her thoughts wander back to her man again, and she grinned as she licked the chocolate from her freezing spoon.

Once they had finished their ice cream, Rose and Hermione gathered up their things to head for their final stop of the day. Hermione wanted to go into _Flourish and Blotts_ and have a look around to see if there was anything that might spark interest with anyone at the Burrow. However, Rose had a funny feeling that Hermione was actually shopping around for an early Christmas present for herself, and if Harry and Ron had been there, they probably would have no reason to dispute that. In any case, Rose decided to leave Hermione to her habitual page-turning and decided to go explore the shop herself.

She decided to wander up the steps to the next floor, where there weren’t as many people. And as was her particular habit, she went almost immediately for the Muggle Relations and Studies section. Her inquisitively searching eye soon lay on a copy of _The Muggle’s guide to Magical Parenting: The end of school and beyond,_ and she quickly decided that this might also be helpful to her mother in the coming years. She pulled it off the slightly dusty shelf.

Though she wasn’t sure exactly why, Rose found herself being drawn to the Potions section. It was another section of shelves that frequently dirtied up the tips of her fingers, and many times she had left with books that aided in her curious common room experiments. As she didn’t have much money left in her handbag, Rose didn’t really fancy the idea of treating herself to some new reading material. But what harm was there in browsing? She walked down the line of books, running her fingers over the course bindings as she went.

She was about to turn to rejoin Hermione downstairs when she suddenly caught sight of a book on the top shelf. The binding was a little worn, and the dust had eroded away some of the writing. But there was enough so that Rose could read something, and she reached up to pull the book down. She took a long minute to properly take in the title.

_Medicinal Potions and Cancer: The cure that Muggles may never find_

Rose felt those familiar flutters rising up in her stomach. Severus had told her that he believed a potion could be created to cure all forms of that deadly disease, and he had been doing some sparse research as to how that would be possible. And though Rose was more than a little biased, she felt deep in her lovesick heart that he could potentially be the one to invent it. He just needed a new starting point. This book was a perfect present for her beloved Potions master.

There was some hesitance however. She and Severus had already come to an agreement that they would not be getting each other any gifts that Christmas; it was a gift to be able to be with each other in that little house on Spinner’s End. But the more Rose thought about it, the more she thought about the gifts Severus had sent her under the guise of _All-my-affection._ He had spent an absurd amount of money over those weeks in his attempts to please her, and moreover, he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world when she got those beautiful things. And now Rose wanted to make him feel just as special. She wanted to be able to return the generous favor by spending her own money on something for Severus. They were a couple now, and that’s what couples did. At least Rose would feel like a better girlfriend, no matter what Severus had to say about that.

Books in hand and her handbag just barely clinging to her shoulder, Rose dashed down the steps and made her way over to the till. As she waited for the wizard in front of her to finish checking out, she glanced over to the little table where Hermione was skimming through one of the six books she had collected. Rose smiled to herself as she stepped up to the counter.

“Just these two, lassie?” the wizard behind the counter asked.

“Actually,” said Rose. “I was hoping you could tell me how much this one is?” She pushed forward the potions book.

“The Remedius title?” The clerk picked up the book to examine the cover. “Hmm, I haven’t seen one of these in a while. This is about eight galleons, I would say.”

Rose sighed, looking down at her handbag. This transaction would thoroughly clean her out for the remainder of the break. But a sigh was all she needed to get past that shock, and Rose reached into her handbag to retrieve her velvet purse.

“I’ll take them both.”

**~HP~**

The darkening December sky was what ultimately reminded Rose as to what time it was. It was getting late, and she promised Severus that she would be home before dark. And luck it seemed was on her side because Hermione also realized that she had to get going as well. Mrs. Weasley was apparently preparing a very large dinner that she wanted everyone to be present for, her son’s girlfriend included. So the two girls walked back down the far less crowded alleyway and slipped back into the warm shelter of the Leaky Cauldron. They briefly mulled the idea of having a Butterbeer to warm themselves up, but Rose was eager to get back to Cokeworth. So the two girls instead exchanged a long, tight embrace, with Hermione telling Rose what a wonderful time she had.

“If you ever change your mind about staying home, just send us an owl,” she said. “There’s always enough room at the Burrow, and my parents would love to meet you sometime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mione,” said Rose. After they both did a quick check inside their charmed handbags to make sure they had all their things, Hermione turned toward the massive fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. And with a flash of green flames, she was gone.

No sooner than the moment the fireplace cooled down did Rose revert back into survival mode. Clutching her bag straps, her blue eyes shifted about as she surveyed her surroundings on her way out the door. Once she was back out in the open London streets, Rose quickly glanced over her shoulder as she made her way back toward her Apparation point in the nearby alley. She was pleased to see that no one was around to follow and notice this time, and she slipped down the dirty, litter-filled backstreet.

She took a long moment to visualize the woods near Spinners End, as well as the river and houses nearby. She then took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and concentrated of that image. Rose just barely heard the crack she produced as she vanished into thin air.

And when she opened her eyes, she was standing in those shabby woods, near that filthy stream. Rose breathed a sigh of relief as she made her way out of the trees, down toward a waiting Spinner’s End. As she walked down the cobbled street, Rose suddenly found herself feeling domestic again. She thought about all the food she had found in that morning’s curious rummaging, and she wondered if tonight would be a good time to finally try and attempt her mother’s shepherd’s pie. Oh yes, very good idea, Rose thought to herself, and she quietly stepped forward toward the front door of Severus’s little house.

She raised her knuckles to knock on the aging wood when a certain curiosity stopped her. Rose looked down at the handle, and very slowly reached down to touch it. Almost instantly, she felt a little spark rush through her fingers ( _‘He has wards here too.’_ ), but it quickly dissipated and the handle turned under her hand. A smile stretched out across her face, Rose pushed the door open and tiptoed inside. And from her spot in the front hall, she looked to the back of Severus’s turned head as he sat at the kitchen table writing. Feeling rather smitten, as well as a little impish, Rose slid off her trainers and crept across the sitting room toward the kitchen. She paused briefly to watch Severus run his hand down his abdomen, but then she shot forward, wrapping her arms around Severus’s shoulders from behind, making him jump in his seat.

“Oh Rosie, you know better than to sneak up on a Potions master while he’s working,” said Severus, sighing with relief as she glanced over his shoulder at his Gryffindor lover. He brought a hand up to cover Rose’s.

“Oh bollocks, I see no cauldron here.” Rose giggled in his ear, and she kissed his pale temple. “I hope your day wasn’t too dull by yourself.”

Severus’s voice faltered slightly, though he disguised it well. It had actually been a little tough to focus on his day. If it wasn’t his anticipation of Rose’s return from London, all he could really think about was the fidgeting little baby inside him. “I don’t know if I would call it dull, but it certainly was interesting to be sitting here without you. But really Rose, I’m just glad you’re back.”

“I promised I would be,” said Rose. “I love being with my friends, and Hermione and I had a great day. But I always come home at the end of the day, especially now that I get to come home to you.” Rose hardly ever thought that there would come a day when she would hear herself say such sentimental fluff. But just as she always had in her daily life, just as she had always been with Severus, she meant every last word. She gave the Potions master one more kiss before she pulled away to head upstairs so that she might hide her new purchases and wash up before she started supper.


	50. One final secret

The days passed by without worry or care for either Severus or Rose. They had expected their break to be relaxing and enjoyable for them both, but what they got ended up being some of the most blissful days they had ever had. With Rose’s London day-trip out of the way, neither of them had any reason to leave the house. And so they both took immense pleasure in getting a taste of what it was like to be a cohabitating couple.

It took a while for Severus to get used to Rose’s little experimental television in the sitting room. He vaguely remembered his family having one when he was a child, but somewhere along the way, his father destroyed it, putting a boot through the screen in a fit of rage. From then on, that dysfunctional threesome learned to live without that irrelevant stimulation. But Rose was determined to show him the benefit of having access to telly programming, which she called hours of entertainment without the effort. And in the process of doing so, she managed to get Severus interested in a few Muggle crime dramas, and coaxed him to reluctantly admit that some television wasn’t _too_ horrible. Rose just resisted the urge to burst into a little victory dance. Who said you couldn’t get Severus Snape to come to the dark side of the moon?

Rose offered to cook nearly every one of their meals, none of which Severus turned down. Everything the girl made was absolutely delightful! Her shepherd’s pie was cooked to perfection, vegetables were steamed impeccably, the gravy with her Yorkshire pudding was made from scratch with her seasoned meats, and her beef stew could have been viable competition to the Hogwarts House-elves’ recipe. And that wasn’t even including the hearty breakfasts that Rose produced each morning. At first, Severus had to wonder where and when Rose had learned all this. But Rose quickly quelled his curiosity when she told him that many were old family recipes, and that her mother always insisted that she help prepare supper when she was home. Severus suddenly had to admit a grudging respect for Charlotte Waverly; she might have failed her daughter in a bunch of ways, but at least she managed to teach her something useful.

Rose for her part was taken by Severus’s vast assortment of books and periodicals. She was amazed that nearly her entire magical education could fit in one tiny room, and there was far more for her inquisitive eye to delve into. This collection would have Hermione frothing at the mouth. Rose wondered if all this reading had resulted in her boyfriend’s superior intelligence, or was it spurred on by it. For the first time since she was eleven, Rose was hit by such a thirst for knowledge, and she thought of what could happen if she had twenty-four hours to go through all that information. Not that Severus would object to that; he had already allowed her to pull some books off the shelf to satisfy her curiosity.

As for the small matter of Severus’s pregnancy, the Potions master felt that he was walking on far thinner ice than ever before. His child was active now, and it often kicked him at the most inopportune moments. Severus welcomed these small movements, but he sometimes had to go out of his way to make sure Rose wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. In order to do that, Severus had to start slipping back into his old teaching habits. He would stonewall Rose as he rode out those brief flutters and squirms deep inside his body, though he would always keep the proper expression to whatever conversation they were having. Given that his hormone-driven emotions were still a little fragile at times, feeling the baby moving sometimes stirred up thoughts that would almost bring him to tears out of the clear blue, and he would have to go upstairs for a while until he calmed down, leaving Rose to her own business. She thankfully always nodded at what Severus thought were some feeble excuses. And though Severus loved the feeling of his young redheaded beauty in his arms, he had to be aware of himself even then. If Rose’s hand ever fell too close to his stomach, he would gently guide it away. Rose however didn’t seem to mind this much. She was perfectly happy just to be with Severus, no matter where their hands rested. There was nothing better than to rest against his warm body, to share the same bedcovers each night. She was content with their growing intimacy, and Severus could do nothing but agree.

It was a quiet lifestyle that they fell into, but it was a lifestyle that deep down, they both knew they really wanted one way or another. It was just them. There were no pesky students, meddling colleagues, or needy friends to disturb them. They had all the freedom in the world to explore their relationship, and they had all the time that they wanted to savor each other’s company.

Severus realized that he never felt more in love with Rose than he did now.

**~HP~**

Christmas Eve had been another quiet day for the Potions master and his Gryffindor lover. Though Severus had promised Albus and Minerva that he wouldn’t do any work until he returned to Hogwarts, he found that his habitual drive just would not allow that. He ended up sitting in his armchair for much of the day, leaning on a hard book cover as he marked up a stack of horrendous Third year essay papers. A few footsteps away, Rose stretched out horizontally on the sofa, absorbed in the lighted box across the room. Since this was the first year in her life where she knew she wouldn’t have to attend Mass, she took immense delight in wearing only lounge clothes, and that she would be avoiding the crowds of people that she may or may not be related to. That however could not stop her from watching those stale Muggle holiday specials that played on an endless loop on every channel. When Severus inquired why with a cocked brow, all that Rose could come up with was that she had been properly brainwashed as a child, and there were just some Waverly family traditions (fixations really) that she just could not get away from. So Severus allowed it, doing his best to tune out the noise as he concentrated on some thirteen year-old’s abysmal grammar.

This carried on for hours, Rose and Severus sitting in their respective spots, watching the steadily falling snow outside the window. The only time either of them got up was because they were being forced to, namely to wander into the kitchen or up the steps toward the loo.

That snow had slowly become a blizzard as evening fell over Yorkshire, and Rose got to her feet again as the clock struck seven. She disappeared through the kitchen arch. Severus assumed that she would return with another plate of the leftover roast from the night before, but he was slightly perplexed when she lingered in there for what became half an hour. He could hear the familiar sound of spoons scraping against a bowl, and the creaking and clanging of Rose rummaging through the lower cabinet where he kept the pans and cooking sheets.

“Rose,” said Severus, throwing his voice into the kitchen. “What are you doing in there?”

“You’ll see,” Rose called back out to him. “Just sit tight, Sev. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Severus didn’t much like surprises, but he resigned to waiting impatiently in his armchair. He had been finishing up some of the last few essays when he smelled an enticing aroma wafting out of the kitchen. And a few minutes later, the small timer by the stove pinged. Rose emerged from the kitchen soon after, bearing a plate. She stepped closer to Severus to show him the fresh biscuits she had whipped up using leftover ingredients and broken up chunks of a Honeyduke’s chocolate bar.

“I’ve been craving these all day,” she said with a cheeky grin. “If there’s something that my mother instilled in me, it’s that Christmas Eve isn’t Christmas Eve without something sweet.”

Severus swallowed the saliva forming in his mouth as he looked down at the steaming little morsels, filled with the chocolate that his delicate condition had him desiring for weeks. He however looked up at Rose with a light smirk. “You sentimental fool.”

“I’ve been known to have my moments.” Rose leaned in to lay a peck on Severus’s cheek. “Please try one. I’ve never baked with Honeyduke’s chocolate before, and I thought you might like that.”

Again, Severus smirked. Rose still hadn’t forgotten his bizarre craving, and she was obviously intent on satisfying them with or without him acknowledging it. “You overindulge me, Rose,” he said. “I swear, you’re like Dumbledore sometimes.”

“I haven’t heard you complaining these last few days.” Rose grinned, waving the plate under Severus’s nose. “Come on, Sev. You know you want to.”

Severus was a man of very little patience for cheek, and yet he was going to let Rose’s light teasing slide this time. Knowing that she would not rest until he tasted her latest work, he picked up one of the biscuits, prompting Rose to set the plate down beside him. Her smile broadened when she saw Severus’s eyes nearly roll back into his head at his first bite. “That’s five generations of Waverly women for you, with a little magical touch.”

“It doesn’t really matter where it came from, this is still wonderful.” And deep down, Severus was really hoping that his pregnancy-dictated palate would give him a break this time. As delicious as Rose’s biscuits were, he did not want to wake up in the middle of the night at Hogwarts wanting them. It was hard enough to control his consumption of chocolate bars to when he was out of sight of others.

Rose went back into the kitchen to fetch them some milk when Severus noticed that shifting feeling inside. He glanced down at his charmed stomach. _‘Oh, you like that, do you?’_ he silently said to his little secret, and he took another bite of the sweet confection in his hand. His free hand rested on his concealed bump as he took in the moment. For a day that had brought him a great deal of pain in the past, this Christmas Eve was peaceful. He was happy, Rose was happy, even his unborn child was content. But as Severus had learned time and time again, luck could not be trusted to always remain on your side.

He didn’t want to do anything that would ruin what too many considered to be a silent night.

**~HP~**

Later that night, Severus and Rose lay in bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms. As the evening dragged into deep night, the temperature inside the house had plummeted, and the wind picked up. Both Rose and Severus took pleasure in snuggling close while the snow-riddled gusts howled and rapped at the window.

As she had almost every night, Rose cuddled as close to Severus’s body as she could, with her arm draped across his chest. Severus hid it well, but he felt that Rose was getting a little close for comfort since the only thing being used to conceal his bulging middle was a heap of thick winter quilts. He certainly didn’t want to throw her off him, but if her hand should move a few inches lower – Severus took in a deep nervous breath as Rose went to run her fingers down his torso. But before she could reach Severus’s belly, he reached down to caress Rose’s hand, and he brought it up to kiss the soft white skin. That hand soon settled on his shoulder, lightly tracing down the length of his collarbone. Severus silently suppressed a sigh of relief when Rose finally yawned and rolled over onto her side to go to sleep. He let her snuggle close to his body as he turned over to do the same.

Suddenly, the baby flipped within him. Severus quietly gasped, not prepared for such an abrupt stir at this late hour, and he turned in bed to lie on his left side. His hand instantly went to his stomach. He found that a light rubbing helped to soothe the tiny unborn back into its sleepy stillness. Obviously wanting a chance to fall asleep undisturbed, he gently caressed the bump that was his child. But he froze in place when he felt the mattress suddenly dip behind him.

“What? What is it?” asked Rose, her voice slightly sleep-dazed, but laced with concern. “Sev?”

Having been yanked back down to earth, Severus briefly attempted to look over his shoulder before resettling into his pillow. “Nothing,” he simply said. Rose shifted further until she was sitting up in bed, and Severus could feel her gaze edging closer to his face.  “Seriously Sev, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing is the matter, Rose. Just go back to sleep.” Severus felt the baby summersault again, and he returned to his tender stroking. But he stopped when he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked up at the bemused expression on Rose’s face as the young woman leaned over him. Severus followed her eyes down to where his hand rested, and his breath stilled with a slowly mounting panic. Rose had obviously seen him trying to comfort his unborn baby.

“Is your stomach bothering you?” Rose asked as she reached down for his hand, but Severus lashed out and grabbed her wrist. “No – _sigh_ – no.”

Rose’s face hardened slightly, showing her offense. She drew her hand back. “Then what is wrong?”

“What gives you the impression that anything is wrong?” asked Severus, turning onto his back to better face her. He dearly hoped that Rose would not take that as undermining her in some way.

Rose was quiet for a moment, looking Severus over again as she thought. “I can just tell. You’ve been acting strange the past few days, like you’re not totally here sometimes.” She inched closer to her boyfriend and settled down close to his side. “Come on, Severus. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Her lithe arm came over and rested across Severus’s chest.

Severus gently stroked it, now feeling his chest knot up with guilt. It was terribly obvious how much of his behavior Rose had noticed, that she knew something odd was going on, and all he was doing now was insulting her intelligence by lying to her. At this point, Severus couldn’t tell if he had any more lies left in him. And as any sensible person might argue, there would come a time when he couldn’t lie to her anymore.

He knew it was getting difficult to conceal his pregnancy and everything that it brought along with it. With Rose so near for almost every minute of the day, she was bound to see something eventually. Severus knew how perceptive she could be, and he knew it would be useless to try and challenge that, especially after letting himself slip up like this. And above all else for Severus, one fact became more and more apparent as he looked at Rose lying in the bed next to him. If he loved her as much as he thought he did (and he did), he would continue to see her long into his pregnancy. He realized that at some point in time, while a charm could hide his growing belly, it was going to become impossible for him to hide his increasing discomfort from Rose. She was going to find out sometime, no matter what he did to try to delay it.

It was a gut-wrenching choice to make. Their entire relationship could depend on how Rose reacted to this revelation. But Severus wanted to hang onto the hope that those few words would not decide their fate. He did want Rose to know, to get involved with this huge part of his life. Or at the very least, he wanted to give her the chance. Running through all his options, he decided that it was better for her to find out sooner rather than later, hopefully giving their relationship a fighting chance. Another soft kick from the baby solidified his decision.

It was time for Rose to know the truth.

Severus sat up slightly, leaning his back against the pillows and glancing across the room to the closed door. “Rose…there is something I have been meaning to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” asked Rose, again reaching for Severus’s hand, and this time grasping it. “Tell me.”

Feeling the nerves building up, Severus looked his young lover straight in her bright blue eyes and swallowed. “Alright…I warn you, love. This is really important, and this isn’t easy for me to speak of. But before I say anything, I just need to ask one thing of you.”

“What?”

“I just need you to try your best to understand me, and I promise that I will try to the best of my abilities to explain everything to you.”

Rose started to feel nervous, a knot starting to form in the pit of her stomach. “Okay, I’ll try. What do you have to tell me?”

Severus sighed deeply as he looked away again. “Do you remember how at the start of term, I was so ill?” Rose nodded at the question. “Well…I think it’s time you knew why.”

“What do you mean, Sev?” asked Rose.

“I…never told you exactly what was making me feel so miserable.”

Rose’s brow wrinkled as she started to rummage through her own ideas of what that could mean. Severus then heard a soft gasp. “Oh Severus, please don’t tell me it’s what I think it is.”

“What is that?” asked Severus. Rose swallowed hard and a small glimmer appeared in the corner of her eye. “You’re…you’re not _terminally_ ill, are you?”

“No,” Severus shook his head, squeezing Rose’s hand a little. “No, it’s nothing like that.” Rose sighed her relief, but her mind then wandered to the next horrific, but very real possibility.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with Lord Voldemort, does it?” she asked, resting a hand on Severus’s arm.

“In a way,” said Severus. That was a way to ease into it, wasn’t it? Rose rubbed her forehead as she was bombarded with an array of terrible thoughts in an attempt to figure out what could be going on. But each possibility was as menacing as the last, and Rose did not want to think of her Severus like that in any way.

“Severus please, just tell me,” she said as she locked arms with Severus. “What’s going on?”

Severus gazed into her eyes for a long moment, breathing deeply to steady his own nerves, and he gently and affectionately tucked some of Rose’s red hair behind her ear. The words were almost caught in his throat, and finally with one last deep sigh, he spoke. “Rosie…I’m pregnant.”

A long silence suddenly filled the room, and Rose’s look of deep concern melted away. But it was slowly replaced by a look of complete and utter shock. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open slightly. “What?” she whispered.

“I’m pregnant.” Severus repeated, clinging to her hand. But Rose pulled out of Severus’s grasp as she moved back and away from him. She stared at the wizard with painfully open eyes, looking up and down his body with what appeared to be a steadily increasing horror. She tried to speak, but all that would come out were some incoherent cracks and mutters. It took a long while before words could find their way back to her mouth.

“No…” she gasped, shaking her head.

“Rose –,” Severus tried to say as he sat up straighter and moved closer to her. Rose however moved back further across the bed. “Oh no, no, no!”

“Rose, please –,”

“You can’t be serious,” Rose barked. “You can’t be! There’s no way!”

“I’m being completely serious,” said Severus, but Rose was very quick to interrupt with a swipe of her hand. “Severus, I’m not stupid! You are a man! Men – don’t – get – _pregnant_!”

“But Rose, I am!” Seeing how flustered Rose was becoming, Severus cupped the side of her face in an attempt to calm her down. “I know that you’re not stupid, and I certainly don’t mean to call you anything otherwise. But I really mean it, Rose. I would not bother with all this if it wasn’t true…god Rose, I really am.”

Rose hunched in over herself, pulling her legs up to hug her knees. She suddenly thought about how Severus had acted over the past few months. She remembered the bouts of nausea, that fainting spell in the Potions classroom, and the odd eating habits her friends had pointed out. It all fit! No, she tried to tell herself. This couldn’t really be happening. Her imagination was simply getting away from her. But Severus would never tell her something just to mess around with her mind. He wouldn’t really lie to her, would he?

Rose’s eyes travelled down to Severus’s midsection, which was covered by their shared quilt. Her eyes narrowed and her flaxen brow wrinkled. “Hold on,” she said. “If you were getting sick at the start of term, then that would make at least four months along by now. You should be showing at this point, but you look just as fit as the day I met you.”

“That’s because I’ve been hiding it,” Severus tried to explain.

“Prove it!” Rose snapped. Severus hesitated for a moment, but he knew that Rose had to see in order to fully believe him. He threw back the blankets and got on his knees before Rose. He then ran his hand down his abdomen, smoothing out his loose-fitting nightshirt to reveal the curve of his stomach. And it was there that Rose finally saw the bump that Severus had worked so hard to hide, even from her. Her hand covered her mouth, her breath becoming gasping pants as she tried to wrap her mind around the sight.

“How did I not see this?” she asked.

“I have been using the Notice-me-not Glamour Charm for nearly a month, and I’ve been very careful at night.”

Rose swallowed hard, her eyes still glued to her lover’s swelling middle. “So…the whole time I’ve been here…every night in bed…?”

Severus nodded slowly. “Yes Rose.”

“How could I have not noticed this?!” Rose cursed herself for her ignorance. Of all people who should have noticed anything that would suggest that Severus Snape was carrying a child, it should have been her! For Prospero’s sake, his belly had been charmed right under her hand! She felt a burning in her eyes as tears of frustration started to form, but she blinked away the blinding mist as she continued to look down at Severus’s abdomen. She found that her hand was slowly inching over to touch, but Rose quickly caught herself and pulled her hand back to her slightly heaving chest.

“No, no Rose, it’s alright,” said Severus, reaching out to her. Rose just shook her head, too stunned to do anything but sit there. “Come here…maybe this can help you believe me.” He took her hand, coaxing Rose to move closer to him. He then gently placed it on his stomach and kept his hand on top of hers. They waited a while, Rose feeling terribly awkward and uncomfortable the whole time. But just when she was about to take her hand back, she felt a soft kick against her fingers, and she gasped in surprise.

“Did you feel that?” asked Severus. Rose cracked a half-smile as she nodded, still fighting to regain breath control. This wasn’t some sick fantasy of hers. Severus hadn’t just gained a few extra pounds; he was nurturing a new life, and she just felt it moving inside him. Her smile got wider as her other hand came to rest on Severus’s belly. She felt yet another movement and let out a soft giggle.

“This is real, isn’t it?” she whispered. “There really is a baby inside of you, isn’t there?”

Severus smiled as he nodded. “It’s as real as our love is.”

“Merlin’s beard!” Rose’s arms came up and she leaned into a tight embrace. Relief washed over Severus in a great wave, drowning his anxiety and shock, and a single tear dripped down his pale cheek. Rose gently rubbed it away with her thumb and placed a loving peck on Severus’s lips. She hugged him closely for a little while longer, but she soon pulled away and tucked her legs under her body. Her smile disappeared as her eyes shifted between Severus’s midsection and his deep, black eyes.

“How did this happen?” she said quietly, her fingers tracing over the raised bump between them.

“It’s very difficult to explain, Rose,” said Severus, reaching for that wandering hand. If he were honest with himself, he wanted to get over the initial hurdle of telling Rose anything at all before getting into the gritty details. Any time he could buy himself to delay it was welcome.

“But Severus,” Rose pleaded. “I need to understand how this could be possible. I mean, it wasn’t yesterday that wizards got pregnant….wait, what?” Rose wrinkled her eyebrows and looked away, slightly confused by the irony in her words.

“I know what you mean.” Severus slipped two gentle fingers under Rose’s chin and guided her gaze back over to him. One glance at her eyes and Severus could see that something was weighing heavily on her mind, and he felt his anxieties start to pick up again.

Rose spoke again, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “You said you would explain, Severus, and I want to know everything. How did this happen?” She paused, and Severus watched as Rose visibly wilted before him. She wished she didn’t have to ask the question, but it was working hard at burning a hole in her mind and tying her stomach up in knots. She swallowed and sighed out the excess air. “Who is he?”

Severus continued to gaze at Rose, thinking that his lover looked as though she was about to cry. “Who is who?”

“The baby’s father…or other father, I guess. I mean, it…it takes two to tango.” Rose shuttered at the very thought, and her jaw started to tremble again. Likewise, Severus hesitated at this question. “I’m sorry Rose, but I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Rose asked with a hint of anger. She stopped to think about that for a second. But then she gasped sharply, more of a yelp actually. “It’s not Voldemort, is it?!”

“No!” said Severus, grasping Rose’s upper arms to calm her. “No, I can safely and definitely assure you that it is not the Dark Lord. But you must understand, Rose. This is a very complicated matter.”

“Is he a Death Eater?” asked Rose.

Severus paused and looked away, his hand on his stomach, debating whether or not it was right to tell Rose. But then he remembered that she wanted the truth. He sighed and slowly nodded. “I believe so.”

At that very moment, Rose felt her heart sink into her stomach. Knowing Severus as well as she did, that seemed to be the most logical answer to this confounding situation. It had also been the last thing she ever wanted to hear from the man she loved. She put her hand to her forehead as she hunched over herself, trying to wrap her mind around the gut-wrenching thought. She couldn’t stop the heavy tear that ran down her face. She felt Severus’s arm come around her.

“Rose?” he almost pleaded, pulling her in closer.

“What happened between you?” Rose quietly asked, tugging at her sleeve to wipe away the wet trail on her cheek. “Was it a one-time thing you had with him, or was there…something more than that?”

“Rose –,”

“Don’t _‘Rose’_ me, Severus. Just tell me the truth, for crying out loud.” She looked at Severus, more tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “Did you love him?”

Severus was almost speechless at the question. He knew that Rose would have her fair share of confused and dismayed thoughts rush through her head, and that she would want every one of them answered. But he never wanted the poor girl to think something like that. But then, given her position, perhaps he should have been prepared for the possibility. He felt his heart contort in his chest as he looked at how upset Rose was getting, but she still looked at him in a way that told him that she still wanted the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

“No,” he simply said, grasping Rose’s hand tightly.

“Did you ever love him?” Rose continued to ask. “Did you turn away from him when you came back to our side? Did he do something to make you realize that he’s just like them?”

“No,” said Severus, a little firmer in his tone. “I don’t understand why you would ask such things, Rose…wait. Are you suggesting that you think that I am bisexual?”

Rose’s face turned a bright shade of fuchsia as she diverted her eyes down to her hands in her lap. “Well, it’s the only thing that would make sense right now. I can’t figure out any other way it would happen.”

“Oh Rosie…” Severus gently turned Rose towards him and cupped her face in both hands. He stared her directly in the eye as he spoke. “Rosie, the only one that I love is you, and nothing will change that.”

“But –,” Rose tried to say, placing her hand on top of her lover’s. But Severus was quick to hush her up. “You are not a rebound romance, I promise you. Rose, you are so special to me. I love you more than anyone in the world. And the father of my child could never compare to you.”

Rose gently guided Severus’s hands away from her face, and another tear escaped her eye. It seemed finally that she had reached her tipping point with her wildly shifting, but still tightly controlled emotions, and this stress and shock was just getting to be too much for her. Rose hunched over her body and started to weep into her hand. Severus did his best to wipe away her tears, now starting to feel that choking feeling himself. “Oh Rose, please don’t cry. It’s already hard enough for me to tell you all this.”

“I’m sorry Sev, I don’t want to. But it’s a bit hard when the man you can call your boyfriend suddenly tells you that he’s having a baby by _another man_! I mean, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around you being pregnant in the first place!”

Severus swallowed hard, trying desperately to keep himself from bursting into tears at the sight of his distraught Rosie. “Just let me tell you the whole story, and then you might be able to understand.”

Rose slowly regained control of herself, and she swallowed what remained of her tears. She eased back and relaxed into her pillows, reaching for Severus’s hand. “Alright, I’m listening. Tell me everything. How did this all start?”

Severus also relaxed back, keeping a protective hand on his belly. He didn’t have to think too long about where to begin. “I have told you that in my days as a Death Eater, I was subjected to many malicious curses from the Dark Lord.” Rose nodded before Severus continued. “I would receive what many would deem to be the cruelest of tortures, and often for no apparent reason. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be cruciated simply because the Dark Lord was bored. However, the night of the battle at Hogwarts…when I almost died at the Dark Lord’s hand, he dealt a number of curses onto me beforehand.”

“Why would he do something like that?” asked Rose. “I know he was completely out of his mind, but why would he curse you like that if he knew he was going to kill you anyway?”

“Cruelty? Preparation? Spite?” Severus ran down the list of options he had explored for almost half a year. “Rose, if I knew for sure, I would spare you the burden of that knowledge. But in any case, of all the curses that the Dark Lord threw at me, one of them was one that I didn’t recognize. It was nonverbal, and the magic acted in a way that I had never seen before. I had no idea what that curse did to me until the day I found out that I was pregnant. Madam Pomfrey and I figured it out together.”

“So a spell made this possible?” Rose asked, gesturing to the bulge at Severus’s middle

“Correct,” replied Severus. “Although, we still don’t know exactly what spell it was that caused my condition. Madam Pomfrey has found a few books on male pregnancy, and it seems that there are several ways to go about achieving that.”

“But you’re sure that Voldemort isn’t the father?” Severus nodded very affirmatively at Rose. “I’m completely sure of that.”

“Right…” Rose nodded herself. “But if he isn’t the father, then who is? Did it happen that night?”

“No,” said Severus, shaking his head. “The baby wasn’t conceived until three months later, in August.”

“What happened?”

Severus had to take a deep breath before getting on with the next part of his tale. It had been weeks since he had let his mind wander back to that night, not really seeing any use in it after telling that sad little story to Albus, Minerva, and then Remus. Hoping that he could finally move on from it after that, Severus had put the horrible experience out of thought. But of course, this was before he had Rose, when he thought he would never have a reason to ever tell it again. Severus just hoped dearly that the fact it was Rose he was talking to would make it even the slightest bit easier this time around.

“I had gone to Diagon Alley late one evening to gather some necessary items for the new term. I had taken to venturing out at later hours to avoid the attention I was getting over the summer, good or bad. It seemed to me like any ordinary shopping trip. But at the end of the night, right as I was walking to the Leaky Cauldron to Apparate back here, I was attacked by the archway that leads into Knockturn Alley.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “Oh my god…who was it?!”

“I couldn’t see his face. He cracked me upside the head before I could get a good look at him, and he kept the hood of his cloak up the entire time.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?!”

“He hexed me silent.” Severus breathed deeply, trying to ignore the images that were suddenly flooding into his head. “Besides, there was no one around to see him do it. He knocked me out before I could so much as cry out in pain, and then he dragged me down Knockturn Alley, so far down that we were long past many of the shops. I woke up in a brick alcove with him standing over me. I tried to fight back and escape, but he locked up my legs and disarmed me. Once I was on the ground, he restrained my arms so that no matter what I did, I couldn’t get away. He told me about how it was really my fault that the Dark Lord was dead and that I was a traitor to end all traitors. And then he said that because of what I did during the war, for turning against them and spying for Dumbledore, I deserved to suffer. To him, I was getting what I truly deserved. And then…”

He drifted off. Rose saw the distress in his eyes, and she squeezed his hand to say that she was still with him. “It’s alright, go on.”

“Then…he ripped my robes off and he…he forced himself on me.”

Rose’s hand went up to her mouth, her eyes the size of tea saucers. “He raped you?!” she gasped, and Severus nodded, letting go of the tears that he hadn’t realized had welled up. “Oh Sev!” Rose leaned in and tightly hugged him around his shoulders. Severus hugged her just as tightly, taking comfort in the fact that his girlfriend was now behind him completely.

“So you don’t know who the father is?” Rose asked grimly. Severus shook his head, trying really hard to regain control and stop the embarrassing tears. The young Gryffindor held onto him even stronger for that. “Oh god Severus, I am so sorry! I can’t believe that anyone would do such a horrible thing.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for what that bastard did,” said Severus, pulling himself out of Rose’s tight grasp. “As I have said to others, what’s done is done, and none of us can do anything to change it.”

“That doesn’t mean you deserved something like that,” said Rose. “Have you contacted the Aurors about this? You could get this guy locked up for life if they track him down again.”

“There’s no point, Rose,” said Severus. “I cannot accuse someone if I can’t even identify them at all. As far as I know, he’s gone, and I’m better off if I just move on with my life. And besides, the last thing I want is to put myself through an investigation. I just don’t want to be under that kind of scrutiny again, to feel that shame again.”

“Shame?”

“It never should have happened,” Severus explained in an emotionally broken voice. “I should have been able to defend myself against something like that. Rose, for the second time in four months, I felt as though I had failed myself. I knew what I was capable of, but when the time came to use those skills, I couldn’t. I could stop other people from dying, but I could barely save myself. And though I could have easily taken on my attacker, I let him overpower me. And in doing so, I ended up being violated in the most unimaginable of ways!”

There was a hard intake of breath from Severus, and Rose could see him starting to tear up again. Her heart and stomach painfully knotted up inside, making her feel like she was going to be sick. “It was really painful, wasn’t it?” Severus looked up at her briefly before turning red-stained eyes away.

“There is no crime worthy of that kind of pain.”

Rose crept in closer and gathered Severus up in her arms. She allowed him to rest his head on her slender shoulder, and she carefully rocked him until the sobs died down. “Don’t ever think like that, Severus,” she said. “No matter what he said or whatever you think, it was not your fault. You did nothing to deserve to be raped, no one does! I know you feel like you’re the lowest thing on earth for that, but that’s how he wants you to feel. Severus, you have to be completely out of your mind if you think to use rape as an act of revenge, and he had to be completely barking to think he could overpower one of the most powerful wizards in Britain.”

“But he did!” Severus moaned into Rose’s shirt. Rose went to scratch his scalp in an attempt to sooth him. “Only because you never could have seen that coming. But that doesn’t make you any less of a man, even if that monster wanted to make you feel that way. I know you feel ashamed for what happened, but Severus, I’ll bet that’s exactly what your attacker set out to do. If he wanted to avenge Voldemort so badly, he could have just killed you. Instead, he wanted to completely ruin your life in whatever way he could. He wanted to make you to live with the pain he inflicted on you. But you are worth so much more than that, love. What he did was atrocious, but you survived, and you ended up walking away with something good out of it.” She gently laid a hand on his belly.

“You don’t know how long it took to accept this child,” Severus admitted. “Dumbledore saw it as a blessing in disguise when I first told him, but I thought this was the end of my life as I knew it. It wasn’t until I had time to sit and clear my head that I was able to fully grasp the idea of having a child.”

“Oh Severus,” Rose crooned, not wanting to hear such a disparaging idea. But upon further thought, an even more disparaging idea started to make its way to the forefront of her mind, and she had to swallow hard. “Did you…did you ever think about…you know…ending it?”

Severus fell back onto his pillows. “No, I didn’t. I carried enough guilt on my shoulders before any of this happened. You say I did nothing to deserve to be raped; this baby would have done absolutely nothing to die. I couldn’t kill an innocent child.” Rose nodded solemnly, and she softly sighed. She always knew that Severus was a good man, and in her view, this was integrity in its purest form. Severus chose to carry the unborn child, even at personal cost. Her eyes stung with tears again, though this time it was with loving pride.

She started rubbing small, gentle circles over the baby as she leaned in closer to Severus’s side. “When did you find that you were pregnant?”

“I first found out back in October,” said Severus. “It actually wasn’t too long after the end of your first long detention session with me.”

“So by the time I got into that fight with Pansy, you already knew?”

“Actually, it was within days of each other.”

“Oh my god…” Rose breathed, remembering what a little nuisance she had been to Severus around that time, in one way or another. He had to be so early into his term then, and she had inflicted unnecessary stress on him. If she had only known of his delicate condition, she would have been far more generous in her patience then. A million different questions suddenly raced to her mouth, catching her tongue in her throat. “I – uh – how far along are you exactly? Four months?”

“Four and a half months,” replied Severus.

“When are you due?”

To Severus, Rose was starting to sound like one of those middle-aged witches in Diagon Alley with way too much time on their hands and no sense of their own business. But the questions were about as far as similarities went. Rose was his girlfriend; this _was_ her business. “We can’t really say for sure, but according to Madam Pomfrey, the baby is due sometime around early May.”

“You said that Dumbledore knows about it,” Rose mentioned. “Does anyone else know?”

“Only a few others know, mostly the other Heads of House, Lupin, and Pomfrey. The other professors know absolutely nothing, and you are the only student who knows.”

Rose’s brow hitched up. “Really? Not even Malfoy knows?”

“He can’t,” said Severus, shaking his head.

“Is that why you have been using Glamour Charms?” asked Rose. “No one else is supposed to know?”

Severus nodded. “Exactly. Given the circumstances, with the sheer nature of how I came to be with child, we agreed that it was safest that only a few people and no one else were to find out about my condition.”

Rose’s eyes travelled back to Severus’s midsection, where her stroking hand still sat. She felt a twitch under palm, and she fell silent, falling back into her own mind for a moment. Severus felt a little uneasy as he waited for Rose to speak again. He finally used two fingers to guide her gaze back to up to his face. And he saw in Rose’s blue eyes a budding look of joy, her charming smile emerging across her face.

“You…you’re happy about this?”

“Of course,” said Rose. “Sev, you’re having a baby. It may be in an unusual manner to say the least, but you’re still having a baby. How could I not be happy about that?”

Severus arched his eyebrow, slightly confused. “Because it happened out of a senseless act of violence by a psychotic dark wizard? Because the baby really belongs to someone else? Because you realize that you are in love with some kind of _freak?_ Because I _lied to you_ for the last four months?”

Rose looked up lovingly as she gently caressed Severus’s face. “Oh Sev, you’re not some kind of freak,” she said. “You’re an expectant father. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Then what about defying the laws of nature? Is that nothing to be ashamed of?”

“Magic will do that to you,” said Rose in a matter-of-factly tone. “Besides, you’re not the first one to go through this. If Madam Pomfrey has been able to find books on male pregnancy, it had to have happened to someone else.”

“That was hundreds of years ago –,”

“That might be true, but it did still happen. If those wizards had been ashamed of themselves or their conditions, then they wouldn’t have written about it, now would they? Am I wrong?”

“No,” Severus sighed. “I guess you’re not.” Overwhelmed and emotionally exhausted, he sank into the bed and brought a hand to his forehead.

“What’s wrong, Severus?” asked Rose, seeing the obvious anguish in her lover’s dark eyes.

“This is just so overwhelming,” said Severus, his voice breaking again. He found that he couldn’t look Rose in the eye anymore, so he diverted his gaze over to the molding around the ceiling. “I knew that telling you would be difficult, but I never imagined that it would be like this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Rose carefully ran her fingers through Severus’s hair, trying to do whatever she could to help him relax. “There should be no secrets between us, why keep this one?”

“I was afraid of how you would react.”

Rose wrinkled her brow. “What are you talking about? How did you think I would react?”

Severus shook his head pitifully, sitting up. “Truthfully, I thought that you would be repulsed. I thought that you would be so disgusted and angry that you wouldn’t want anything more to do with me.” He sighed again, and his voice dipped down to the most vulnerable Rose had ever heard. “I thought that you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore because of this.”

Rose swiftly brought Severus closer. She kissed his cheek, brushing his dark hair away from his face. “Oh Severus, nothing you told me tonight could make me not want to be with you. I admit, I was more than a little shocked by the idea of you carrying a child – I mean, it’s not every day you hear of something like male pregnancy. But I’m still with you regardless.”

Severus saw the sincerity in Rose’s eyes, but as he looked down at his swollen middle, he could hardly believe what she was saying. “You would take me like this? I mean, you would actually want me in this condition?”

“Of course,” said Rose, caressing his cheek. “Severus, there is nothing about you that I could find repulsive. I love you. I love you for everything you are, for all your scars, your unkempt features, and now for your baby-bump. You’re still beautiful to me, and nothing is going to change that. And as far as the lying is concerned, I can understand why you did. You had to protect yourself and your child, and that meant keeping everyone in the dark, including me.”

“But it wasn’t twenty minutes ago that you were accusing me of seeing another man,” Severus pointed out, but Rose rolled her eyes. “Twenty minutes ago, I didn’t have the whole story, and now I do. Severus, I’m so sorry I am that I reacted like that. The last thing I want to do is to put stress on you and the baby. But I promise you, I’m still here, and I always will be.”

Severus swallowed the desire to weep outright, the last bit of control that his hormones hadn’t hijacked. He gathered Rose up in his arms and held her close to his chest. “Oh Rosie, I could never have asked such a thing of you.”

“If your past as a Death Eater couldn’t keep me away, a pregnancy certainly won’t.” Rose tilted her chin up to kiss Severus passionately. And with one last pat to his stomach, she gently guided him back onto the mattress and tucked him back into bed. “That’s enough stress for one night. You need to get some rest.”

“Yes Rosie,” said Severus as Rose pulled the covers up to her shoulders and settled into the side of his body. Her hand now laxly rested on his abdomen.

“You know,” he heard Rose softly say. “You really shouldn’t have told me that you were pregnant.”

“Why not?” asked Severus.

“I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you now.” Rose giggled, nuzzling her nose into the crook of Severus’s neck. “It’ll be difficult once we get back to Hogwarts, using spells to hide your tummy. But I’ll always know it’s there. Oh, you’ll be irresistible.”

“Let’s just concentrate on right now, Rose,” said Severus, placing a gentle peck on the top of Rose’s head. “No more worries.”

“There won’t be,” Rose whispered. And it was the soft music of her voice that soothed Severus into a much-needed sleep.


	51. Christmas and Conversation

Severus opened his eyes to a white light flooding through the tiny window at the side of the room, slightly obstructed by a pile of snow on the windowsill. He could hear the shutters outside slamming against the side of the house as the wind jumbled it around slightly. And the cold in the air nipped at his nose as he lay on the warmed pillows. He felt as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and his bed now felt like he was lying on a cloud. Rose was still nuzzled up next to him as she slept on his shoulder, and he felt the warm puffs of her breath against his chest. In that moment, Severus didn’t care about what time it was, what the rest of the world was doing, or even the fact that it was Christmas day. The only thing that mattered to him was that he still had his perfect world after thinking he would lose it the night before. He still had Rose, his love for her was as strong as ever it was, and he no longer felt any remorse for keeping his pregnancy from her. It might have been a little premature to say so, but Severus felt like their relationship had grown stronger overnight. There were no more barriers between them, and Severus now had a clear path to what could be pure happiness for the first time in his life.

For the first time in who knew how long, Severus was truly glad to be alive.

What felt like hours passed before Rose shifted from her peaceful slumber. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, fair lashes dusting her freckled cheeks. She let her hand drift down to Severus’s stomach as she nuzzled her nose into Severus’s neck, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Happy Christmas, love” she cooed, allowing Severus to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Severus could see that glimmer of love in Rose’s eyes, and her smile lit up the room. He couldn’t help but crack a small smile himself as he said, “Happy Christmas.”

Wide awake, the couple started to sit up together, but as soon as the air hit her thermal-clothed body, Rose squeaked and dived back under the covers. “Ai Merlin, it’s cold!” she said, tugging blankets up to her collar. Severus also noted the bite in the air, a bit more acutely than his Gryffindor lover due to his continued oversensitivity to temperature. He leaned back down onto the pillows and gathered Rose’s warm body closer to his.

“What time is it?” he asked. Rose squinted at the clock hanging next to the door frame. “Good god, it’s almost eleven! Geez, talk about a lie-in.”

“Well, we would both be lying if we said last night wasn’t a very trying night.”

“It had to happen, Sev,” said Rose, deciding to brave the icy air and sit up again. “We had to have that conversation sometime, you didn’t have much choice. But you know what? It’s over, and we got through it together. We can move on with our lives now. Although, I should tell you, if you had waited until you were about to pop to tell me that you were pregnant, we might have had a totally different outcome.”

“I’m just glad to have your support,” said Severus. “But Rose, for Prospero’s sake, don’t even bring up the idea of me “popping.” I would rather not think about giving birth until I get closer to it.”

Rose laughed as she kissed Severus’s temple. “Completely understandable,” she said with a cheeky smile. Once she had adapted to the cold, Rose hopped out of bed and skidded over to where she and Severus had discarded their dressing gowns the night before. After quickly putting her robe on, she picked up Severus’s and walked back over to the bed. She tossed it over to Severus’s side. “Put this on, Sev. You’re making me cold just looking at you.”

Smirking, Severus took the dressing gown and stood up, wrapping the gray fabric around his growing body. He instinctively grabbed his wand off his bedside table and tucked it away into the folds. “Come, we can light a fire downstairs.” Rose also took a second to grab her wand and tuck it away before reaching for Severus’s hand. Severus let their fingers lace together as they left the room and he led the way down the stairs.

Rose let go of Severus’s hand as they stepped into the sitting room. She looked at the fireplace and went to reach for her wand. But Severus stopped her with a wave of his hand. “No Rosie, I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Rose, her tone hitching up. Severus’s eyebrows wrinkled in slight confusion. It was a ridiculously simple charm, one that should be no source of concern. The Potions master just shook his head with a relaxed smirk. “Yes love, I’ve got it. Don’t fret.” He pointed his wand at the fireplace and a quick charm had a fire burning.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus could see Rose fluffing the cushions and pillows on the sofa, and before he could raise so much as a finger, she was pushing him in that direction. “Sit down, Sev,” she said. “You should relax.”

“Relax? I only just got out of bed,” Severus pointed out. Rose shrugged her shoulders. “Well, extra rest never hurt anyone, especially someone in your condition.”

Oh, so that was it, was it? Severus wondered how he had overlooked that particular potentially annoying idea. In telling Rose about his pregnancy, he had run the risk of her maternal instincts kicking in. And apparently, they did just that. But Severus knew it wasn’t in Rose’s nature to be overbearing. She just wanted to take care of him, much the way she had been doing since she got to Spinner’s End. That being said however, there was a fine line between caring for someone and never letting them do anything for themselves.

Severus turned to Rose and told her that he was fine, though he did move toward the sofa to appease her. He slowly eased down onto the cushions, the gravid nature of his condition suddenly making itself known. He sighed as he rested a hand on his belly, Rose stuffing a pillow under him to support his back. “Sweet Merlin,” he said, stroking his middle. “If this is what it’s like at almost five months, imagine what I’ll be like at nine.”

“You’ll be sexy, that’s what you’re going to be like.” Rose smiled as she cocked her head to the side. That made Severus chuckle. “You, a gorgeous young thing, would go for an old, knocked up git with significant trouble with getting out of his chair?”

“I already go for an old git,” Rose said with her very matter-of-factly, but oddly sarcastic tone. “But that doesn’t seem to bother me, does it? Severus, you are already devilishly handsome to me. A baby-bump only makes it better.” She leaned in and tenderly kissed her lover down his jaw line, finishing up at his thin lips. “If you ask me, there is nothing more attractive than someone who is heavy with child.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those people, are you?” Severus looked at Rose with an arched eyebrow and a smirk. “Or are you saying that just to please me?”

Rose giggled as she leaned in closer. “I could say that I live to please, but that would be lie. I really do think that, Sev.” Severus looked at her for a moment, a rather dubious look in his obsidian eyes. But he then rewarded Rose with a soft peck on her lips. Rose hooked an arm around his neck. “So, what would you like for breakfast? Anything you want, I’ll make it.”

“Rosie…”

“Before you say anything, Sev,” Rose pointed a finger at him, stopping him mid-breath. “Let me make my point. I want to give you the best holiday possible, that’s why I’m here! When I was growing up, I always had the best homemade meals on Christmas morning, and I want to give that to you. Don’t deny it, love, you like my mother’s recipes. The look on your face gives it all away.” Severus smirked as Rose continued. “And I’m sorry Sev, but I have to say it. You’ve gained some weight back, but you’re still a little thinner than I would like. After all, you’re eating for two! We can’t have that, now can we? Please let me feed you.”

Severus couldn’t help but smile at the honestly sincere look on Rose’s face. So this was how it was going to be from now on, wasn’t it? Had it been anyone else, Severus probably would have wrung their neck. But there was something about Rose’s desperate desire to please him that was almost adorable. Of course, there wasn’t a snowflake’s chance in hell that Severus could ever say that out loud, even if Rose was the only one to hear it. But as much as he would have liked to have refused, as much as he would have liked to take care of her for a change, he just couldn’t deny Rose. Severus decided to back down from the fight, knowing that he would get his chance to repay her in the coming days after she had fully adjusted to the reality of his pregnancy.

“If you insist,” he sighed, and Rose smiled as she got to her feet. “So what’ll it be?”

Severus cocked his head to the side, thinking back on the dishes Rose had prepared in the past few days. “Now that I think of it, those waffles you made the other day would be nice.”

“Would you like some eggs and bacon with that?”

“No, the waffles should suffice just fine. You should know, Rose, I might be pregnant, but that does not mean that I am constantly starving.”

Rose nodded and gave Severus a peck on the cheek. “Alright, you’ve got it.” She turned and started for the kitchen, fishing out her wand. “No trouble at all. I just need to find my compact. You didn’t see what I did with it, did you?”

_‘If only Minerva could see her now.’_ Severus thought to himself as he summoned a book of the shelf and relaxed back further into the sofa.

**~HP~**

“So…what’s it like?” Rose asked between syrupy bites. She was currently sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed comfortably, with Severus sitting at the other end. Both of them balanced a plate of half-finished Belgian waffles in their laps.

“What is what like?” asked Severus, right now more visually focused on his breakfast than his girlfriend.

“Being pregnant,” Rose simply replied. Of course, it was simply enough to catch Severus’s attention and he glanced up at her. “Why do you ask so suddenly?”

“I don’t know, I’m just curious.” Rose reached over for the glass of milk she had sitting on a nearby table. “You’re a bloke for one thing. I suppose anyone would want to ask how that works with you. But you know, I always fancied the idea of having kids. I’ve often wondered what that would be like for me one day, but I never really had anyone I could ask about it.”

“Really?” Severus’s eyebrow arched. “For a young woman, I would think that there would be no one better than your mother.”

Rose let out a high-pitched laugh. “My mother, please! She wouldn’t talk about childbearing with me if I was studying to be a midwife. The most I’ve ever heard out of her was how she completely lost her figure to have me, and that it took three years to get it back. Severus, this is the same woman who once told my stepfather that _“giving birth once was enough.”_ Frankly, that was all I needed to hear.”

“I don’t blame you.” Severus nodded his understanding. Rose bopped her head in return. “You see my point then. She would rant for hours if given the opportunity.”

“She couldn’t have been that miserable,” said Severus, not believing a single one of his words. Given what his own pregnancy had put him through, he would totally believe it if Charlotte Waverly stood before him and said that bearing Rose was the worst torment and toil she had ever been through.

“I really don’t think she was, but that’s my mum for you. You know how she blows things out of proportion – _ooh!_ That’s another reason why I could never ask her. If I randomly approached her and started asking questions about pregnancy and the like, she would immediately jump to a conclusion. Something in her warped, loony mind would convince her that I was up to no good, like it’s not a natural female curiosity.”

“Now Rosie, you say that without ever having tried.”

“You say _that_ without ever having met her. Trust me on this one, Sev. It would be more trouble than it’s worth.” Severus rolled his eyes. He leaned over and set his now empty plate down on the end table. Rose offered to get him a second helping, which Severus very politely refused. So instead, Rose banished both their plates to the kitchen sink and set her wand to the side. She inched her way down the sofa and cuddled close to Severus.

“So tell me, Sev. What’s it like?” she asked, caressing Severus’s middle.

“Where do I start?”

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but fell silent again as she thought about that question. “I…um…I don’t know really. There’s so much that I want to know, so much that I missed.”

Severus caught a snicker in his throat. “Don’t be silly, Rose. There wasn’t much to miss. You saw how miserable I was in those first few weeks. Frankly, there were days when I wished I wasn’t pregnant if that was what it did to me. And besides, it’s not like I was deliberately keeping you in the dark. I told you last night that only certain people were to know anything about me, and as much I wished it different at times, that included you.”

“I know,” said Rose. Her memories drifted back to those early weeks of term, and she shuddered. “That had to be a nasty case of morning sickness you had, judging from what I did see.”

“You have no idea,” said Severus, shaking his head. He looked over, and there was that concern in Rose’s eyes again. “Not to worry, Rose. I am quite well now.” Rose sighed, though not without a bashful smile, as well as a roll of her eyes. She then turned her attention back to Severus’s belly.

“I’ve often heard of women talking about when they really started to feel pregnant,” she said, thinking back on when her aunts and family friends were having their kids. “When was that moment for you?”

Severus thought about that for a moment. “It was around a month ago, maybe more.”

“It was when you began to show, right?” Rose asked, and Severus nodded. “What was that like?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Rose,” Severus began. “It wasn’t a good feeling. At the time, I was still in a pretty bad place, with the stresses of my condition and my work, and I was also struggling with my feelings for you. On top of that, I still hadn’t completely made up my mind about whether or not I was going to keep the child. I suppose it helped that I was beginning to feel more myself around that time, instead of constantly being exhausted and ill.”

“But you are keeping the child, right?”

Severus sighed, though this time with a relaxed smile. “Yes Rose, I am keeping the child.” Severus felt a swift kick, like his unborn baby was voicing its agreement in the only way it could. Carefully, he took Rose’s hand and guided it over so that she could feel the movement too.

“What does it feel like to have a baby living inside you?” asked Rose, tapping back to the baby and giggling when she got a response.

“It’s a bit indescribable really,” said Severus. “Once you get past the health troubles, the mood swings, and the sheer mucking around with your body, you’re left with this strange feeling where you fully realize that you carry a new life, and that you alone are responsible for its wellbeing.”

Rose stared at him with blue eyes filled with quiet awe, and a hint of youthful wonder. “That has to be overwhelming, Severus.”

“It can be,” Severus admitted. “And it has been a few times. But these days, I choose to not allow it. I’m just trying to do what I can to ensure that my child has a good life from the very beginning. When you bear a child one day, you will understand.”

“Yeah, I’ll finally understand the method to my mother’s madness,” Rose said as she felt another soft stroke against her palm. “What’s it like for you to feel it moving?”

Severus rested his hand on top of Rose’s, keeping it in place. “That, I have to say, is pretty surreal, love. It’s one thing to know that there is a child growing inside of you. But to actually feel it moving…it’s amazing. It’s what made it completely real to me. It wasn’t some bad fantasy. I was actually having a child.”

“How long have you been feeling it kick?”

“Actually, not very long.” Severus decided to leave that open to Rose’s interpretation instead of informing her that she had in fact missed the first movement by mere minutes. Rose however seemed to pick up on something in his tone because she said, “I’m sorry Severus, but I have to know. Was I around when you felt it for the first time?”

“I think you would have known if you were,” said Severus. Rose’s brow scrunched up with amused irritation.

“That’s not fair,” she muttered to herself. “I can hardly believe how active it is. My grandmother used to say that a baby that’s active in the womb is likely to be a boy. Do you know what it is yet?”

“No, I don’t,” replied Severus. “I prefer to find out the old-fashioned way. And by the way, that is an old wives’ tale.”

Rose brushed off that correction and leaned in to Severus’s face. Even so early in her day, she was hungry for affection, and she relished in the sweet taste of Severus’s lips. Once they had both kissed their fill, Rose slumped over and turned onto her back, resting her head in Severus’s lap. “What does this mean for your career? Will you be going on leave before the baby comes?”

“I’m still exploring my options,” said Severus in a not-quite-lie. Though he had some details worked out already, he didn’t want to overload Rose with too much information this soon. He ran his fingers through Rose’s soft red hair as he massaged her scalp. “Dumbledore tells me that he will support me no matter what I decide.”

“You’re very lucky to have such supportive colleagues,” said Rose, kicking up her ankles to dangle her feet off the edge of the sofa. Severus sighed. “I don’t know if lucky is the right word. Those colleagues that do know about the child have been nothing less than a pain in my side.”

“I’m sure they’re just trying to help you. I mean, an unplanned pregnancy can be catastrophic to a lot of women, forget about men! If I were them, I would be falling down at your feet, doing whatever I could to make your day easier.”

Severus rolled his eyes. It was wonderful to know that Rose had been restraining herself that morning, not very easy for a Gryffindor. In a show of appreciation, he took her hand to kiss the fair, lightly freckled skin. “You truly are your Head of House’s pupil.”

“Why exactly is it that only certain teachers can know anything about your condition?” Rose’s voice floated up from his lap. “Why not all of them?”

“As I said last night, it is mostly due to security reasons. We still don’t know where my attacker is, if he’s even still out there. And thus, we can’t take the risk of it somehow getting out to the public that I am with child, on the off chance that it would prompt some kind of retaliation.”

“You mean from the Death Eaters that they still haven’t caught yet?”

“Exactly, we are far better off keeping this secret as closely guarded as possible. But you know, Rose? Even if there was no danger to me or my child, I still wouldn’t want anyone knowing about my pregnancy.”

“And why is that?” Rose asked in the teasing way that told Severus that she already had an idea of what his answer would be.

“Because even in our magical world, male pregnancy is still a greatly uncommon occurrence, as you found out last night. The first thing I thought when I found out that I was pregnant was that I would be the laughing stock of Hogwarts if anyone else knew, and I still feel that way today. In eighteen years at Hogwarts, I have learned that while many professors mean well, not all of them have particular talent with keeping their mouths shut.”

Rose groaned in abrupt displeasure. “Severus, please don’t say anything about Professor Wicker. She’s harmless.”

“I’m not saying she isn’t,” said Severus. “But she has on several occasions shown me that she is not particularly good at keeping information to herself while in conversation. I understand, Cassandra Wicker is an honest woman, but I just don’t know her well enough to be able to trust her. And then there are others who I know couldn’t keep a secret if their lives depended on it. I am grateful that Dumbledore saw from my perspective for a change, and limited it to Lupin and the other Heads of House. He claims that it was because of their particular skills, but they also know when to shut up.”

“I was under the impression that you weren’t very fond of Professor Lupin,” said Rose. Severus knew she was inquiring about Remus’s increasing presence in and around the dungeons, but he wasn’t quite ready to actually say that the mutt was growing on him. That he thought would be a little much for Rose’s young psyche, not to mention his pride. “He has his uses,” he said instead. “In terms of protection, it certainly helps to have a werewolf on your side.”

“More than that, I would think.” Rose started to grow tired of her horizontal position, and she moved up to sit beside Severus with her legs draped over his. “Professor Lupin has a young child. Perhaps he could give you some help with the baby after it’s born.”

“Dumbledore claims that he was thinking exactly that when he made the decision to bring him into this mess, although I believe it had more to do with Lupin’s incessant groveling.”

“Do you think you’ll need his help after you have the baby?”

“I’m not sure,” said Severus, shaking his head. “I don’t think anyone can know for sure if they can be an effective parent until they actually have their first child. Dumbledore and McGonagall seem to believe that I will be alright, but I’m not sure I can agree with them.”

“Do you know what I think?” asked Rose, draping a lithe arm over her boyfriend’s shoulder. “I think you’ll be a great dad. You’re obviously effective as a teacher, and the way the Slytherins admire you, I would think it was for good reason.”

Severus wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He admired Rose and her desire to always make him feel special. But her words were only a temporary remedy for those insecurities that were so deeply rooted in his soul. Just being in that little house made him question his ability to be a good father, but the only thing he could think to do was continue to keep it locked up inside. Rose wanted with all her heart to help Severus, but for now, there was nothing she could do. There was nothing that anyone could do, not unless they could erase the pain that had happened in that very room all those years ago.

**~HP~**

The rest of the day unfolded much the same way their breakfast did. Severus and Rose stretched out on the sofa for hours at a time, guarding each other against the cold. Both had decided that there was no point at all in getting dressed; nightclothes and dressing gowns were much more comfortable anyway. Neither of them felt the desire to turn on Rose’s little television, for they got enough pleasure just in each other’s company. It was a wonder if any other couples found Christmas to be as romantic as they did. Rose in particular was eager to explore her lover’s new body. She seemed to find his bulging middle to be most enticing, and that was where her hand rested for most of the time. And every time the baby lashed out and kicked her, Rose always responded with a happy giggle. Severus couldn’t have been more thrilled to see this, to feel the warmth of her touch on his stomach.

Oh yes, their relationship was definitely stronger than ever before.

The sky had begun to darken when they suddenly found themselves with a steady stream of owls flying through the windows. Severus rose to greet them every time, and he discovered that each one had flown in carrying packages of various sizes. It was obvious that Rose’s friends were not going to let her feel the slightest bit forgotten that Christmas, and Rose was surprised by their generous gifts. Hermione must have been clever in shopping under Rose’s nose because she was surprised by a copy of _Blossom’s Complete Guide to Beautifying Potions._ There was a new set of ornate crystal phials from Ron, and there was even an unexpected letter from Neville and Luna, informing her that they had graciously renewed her _Witch Weekly_ subscription for another year. But the gift that touched Rose the most was from Harry, delivered to her by his new, magnificent brown owl. His gift was nothing more than a tiny silver charm in the shape of a wolf’s head, and a letter explaining that it was meant to go on her silver bracelet. At first, Severus was a little miffed at this. He had originally bought that bracelet after all. But all he needed was to get a look at the almost teary look in Rose’s eyes, and he realized that Rose could build up her life on that silver chain, a new charm for a new meaning. As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Potter had the right sense to commemorate his beloved’s first Patronus.

Rose had gone upstairs to fetch her gifts for her friends when Severus heard a tapping at the kitchen window. He walked over and opened the window to let in yet another owl, but this one only carried a single envelope in its beak. Severus took it and sat down at the kitchen table while Rose saw to the owls behind him. Immediately, he recognized the distinctive writing in purple ink, and he let out an irritated sigh. What could Dumbledore want with him when he said that Severus wouldn’t be bothered? Again sighing his slight discontent, the Potions master tore open the envelope and silently read the letter to himself.

_Dear Severus,_

_Allow me to be the first to wish you a very happy Christmas! Minerva and I both hope that you are following Poppy’s orders and resting up. Contrary to what you might believe, your presence is actually quite missed here at Hogwarts. I know you are not particularly fond of the holidays, and you always were in a particularly foul mood around the castle this time of year. But as I always say my boy, every family has one of those types of people, and the rest of the staff seems to be catching on. Why just yesterday, Rolanda was commenting on how strange it felt to not have you griping at people from your place in the corner. I’m sure that a number of them are looking forward to your return so they can get back to a sense of normalcy._

_Now, on to why I wrote in the first place. I have been deliberating for quite some time about what would be an appropriate gift for you on this joyous day. And after an invigorating discussion with Minerva, we both decided that we ought to give you the one thing that you could use more than anything else in the coming months, especially after the little one arrives._

_My dear Severus, it is my pleasure to inform you that starting today, you shall be receiving a well-deserved raise in your salary. Your professor’s salary and your Head of House bonus will both be increased by thirty percent, and better compensation for overtime shall be provided in the future. We sincerely hope that you will find the extra funds to be helpful going into this new chapter in your life. I know from Remus that raising a child can be very costly these days, and I wish to tell you that this is the least I could do. I was always there to help in the past, and the same holds true to this day. I do want to see you have some happiness in your life with the impending birth of your child, and I would hate to see that happiness hindered by financial worries._

_I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday, and I await your return for the new term._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus_

Severus felt another heavy worry lift from his being. He had expected that he would be getting some form of a pay-raise, if Remus was to be believed. But he hadn’t expected that his bonus would be increased as well, and by thirty percent at that. Severus briefly worried what would happen if the other professors got wind of this, but he somehow knew that Albus would have an explanation ready when they came barging into his office to take it up with him. And for once, Severus appreciated what the old codger was doing. Albus always sought to take care of those dear to him, sometimes treating them as the children he never had. And if it hadn’t been for him, Severus might have been in some real trouble, and Remus would have gone under by now. Albus would rather die than to let his two most valued comrades fight to provide for their children.

Severus briefly wondered if the headmaster was already vying to be the godfather when the child was born.

Rose treated Severus to what she liked to call the most improvised Christmas dinner in all of Great Britain. There were a few thick cuts of ham that she brought up to room temperature, roasted potatoes with a dusting of pepper, and a modest variety of vegetables. It wasn’t the Waverly Christmas pudding or her mother’s slightly charred goose, but it was satisfactory enough for the two of them. Severus didn’t care anyway. He wouldn’t have cared if he was eating the exquisite feasts of the Malfoys, or even the Becketts. This meal was much more intimate, just him and his young love, prepared with care. And that made it all the more preferable. The couple ate in silence, with Severus gently caressing the back of Rose’s hand as it rested on the table.

When Severus returned to the sofa to sit out the remainder of the evening, Rose decided that it was the right time to present Severus with her gift for him. He was reaching for her hand to pull her closer, but Rose stopped him with a careful hand. “Hold on a second, Sev. I just have to run upstairs really quick.”

“What for?” Severus asked with obvious curiosity.

“I just have to grab something. You sit tight.” Rose dashed up the creaky steps and went into the master bedroom. Breathing away the fluttery nerves in her stomach, she knelt down in front of her trunk, which now sat beside Severus’s wardrobe. Rose dug through the layers of clothes and shoes and school things before she reached the bottom and found the potions book, still in its brown paper wrapping. She then made her way back down to the sitting room. For some reason, perhaps her nervousness, she held onto the parcel quite tightly behind her back as she stepped towards Severus, who looked at her with a very dubious eye. He of course asked the obvious question.

“Rose, what is that?”

“I…um,” Rose stammered, trying to figure out how to start. “I know we agreed that we wouldn’t get each other any gifts for Christmas. But I saw this when I was in _Flourish and Blotts_ with Hermione, and I just had to buy it.”

“But Rose,” said Severus. “I don’t need material gifts. I have you.”

“I know, Severus.” Rose sat down beside the Potions master, resting the brown package in her lap. “But let me explain. I cherish the gifts you gave me as _All-my-affection_. You went out of your way to let me have such nice things when you really didn’t have to. I wanted to do the same for you. Forgive me, but I think you deserve more than just my love. Besides, I noticed that nothing came for you before. I don’t want you feeling left out.” She held out the package to Severus. “Go on, open it.”

Severus carefully took the thick rectangular package in his hands, feeling the noticeable weight in his hands. He hesitated for a moment; it had been a rather long time since he got a gift that he either wanted or appreciated, and he often discouraged his colleagues from surprising him with little tidbits here and there. But he glanced at Rose and saw sincerity in her beautiful blue eyes. A quick bob of her head urged him on. It was only then that Severus started untying the rough twine. He peeled the paper back, and when he laid eyes on the slightly aged cover of that potions book, he paused.

“I thought you would find that useful in your research,” said Rose. “I know you’ve been interested in cancer-curing potions.”

Severus ran his fingers over the silver printed words and looked up at Rose. “You found this in _Flourish and Blotts_?” he asked, surprised to see the rare title.

“Yeah,” Rose said, nodding her head. “The shopkeeper seemed a bit amazed when I brought it up to the till. Apparently, Rowen Remedius books are hard to come by around here.”

“Very hard,” Severus added. “Only a certain number of books were printed, and even fewer were printed in English. Ordinarily, you would have to go to Germany to find one of these. Oh Rose…I hardly know what to say.”

“It was nothing, Sev,” said Rose. “It was well worth the money if it was going to be put to good use, which I know you will. I’m sorry that I went back on our agreement, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I love you too much to do something like that.”

Severus sat silent for almost a minute, glancing between the potions book and Rose’s face. But just when Rose was beginning to think that she had made a mistake, Severus looked up at her out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled. “It seems that great minds really do think alike.”

Rose watched as Severus reached into his dressing gown and brought forth a small red box. Overcome with surprise, Rose brought her hands up to cover her mouth, and she bit the inside of her lip to stop the imminent giggle. But that proved to be easier said than done. “Sev…I…uh, when did you do this?”

“The morning before I left Hogwarts for the holiday,” replied Severus. “It’s handy that the jeweler in Hogsmeade handles transactions through the Floo network.”

“But what about our –,”

“I might not have needed material gifts, but that doesn’t mean I thought you didn’t. And besides, I thought it would come as more of a surprise this way.” Rose laughed openly, hiding her blush behind her hands. Just when she thought she had a really great idea, Severus had to go and beat her to it! But there was hardly any part of Rose that could honestly complain. This after all was the Severus that had wooed her so in the first place.

Rose finally got ahold of her giggles and Severus handed her the box. She took a moment to steady her hands before lifting up the top lid. Inside the box was a necklace made of white gold; a simple oval pendant hanging from a delicate chain. The pendant itself was a locket, and it bore an intricate embossment of beautiful ivy and vines.

“Open it,” Severus urged her, and Rose carefully took the untouched metal in her fingers. She gently pried open the locket and softly gasped at the words engraved inside in delicate script.

_You will always have all my affection_

Rose clutched at her chest, feeling her pounding heart under her hand. She actually had to blink once or twice to keep her eyes clear of mist. “You devious dog,” she said, shaking her head with a grin.

“Do you like it?” asked Severus, shifting in his seat.

“I love it,” Rose crooned, and she leaned forward to kiss her lover’s sweet lips. She swept her hair back as Severus carefully took the chain and fastened it around her neck. He then sat back to see how it looked. “It suits you,” he said.

Rose touched the pendant as it hung at her breast, and she smiled widely at Severus. “Oh Sev, it’s gorgeous. Have I told you lately how wonderful you are?”

“Quite a few times, actually,” Severus said as he cupped that back of Rose’s head and brought her closer for another kiss. As she pulled away, Rose turned her head and let out a long yawn. Severus gently stroked her cheek. “You go on up to bed. You look knackered.”

“Won’t you join me?” Rose asked, rubbing a blur out of her eye.

Severus shook his head. “No, I think I will get a late start on this book. I’ll be along soon, don’t fret.”

“Alright, but not too late now. You and the baby need your rest.” Rose gave his bump a gentle pat and then bid him goodnight. She was about to start up the steps when she suddenly turned back to Severus, who already had the Remedius potions book open in his lap. “So was it worth it?”

“Was what?” asked Severus, glancing up at his girlfriend.

“Bringing me out here, of course,” said Rose. “Did it make today any better for you?”

Severus paused for a moment, staring off into the distance as he sat in reflection. He thought about all the years gone by when Christmas at Spinner’s End meant nothing but pain, and how he had felt none of that today. All those years of allowing himself to not be noticed, and yet he was the center of Rose’s attention. In a few short hours, Rose had made up for everything that his parents lacked, and there were hardly enough words for that. He looked back to Rose with his best attempt at a warm smile.

“It did indeed. If I’m honest Rose, this was one of the best holidays I have had in a very long time, certainly the best I have had here.” Rose smiled and blew Severus a soft kiss. She then continued on her way up to their bedroom. But once that door closed behind her and she stood alone in the frosty room, Rose realized something.

Severus said that this Christmas had been one of his best, but all they did was sit around and enjoy a mutual nothingness. Many of her better holidays included a great deal more than that, however annoying they might have been, things like family, traditions, and an endless, often smothering outpouring of love from everyone around her. Severus could not have been so lonely at Hogwarts, not with the people he worked with. But when push came to shove, they were not his true family. He didn’t care about the majority of them, not the way he cared for her and his unborn child. And what did Severus mean when he said it had been the best Christmas in that house? Holiday customs with his family could not have possibly been worse than with her own. That’s when Rose realized that Severus had not talked about his family very much at all, and she found that terribly odd given how much venting she had done about both sides of hers. Why would Severus feel the need to keep so silent, even when it was just her there to listen?

What had happened in past holidays that made such a slow Christmas so wonderful?

Rose had woken that morning filled with immense joy and an abounding need to love and cherish. But as she climbed into bed to wait for Severus to join her, all she could feel was a long sense of confusion and concern.


	52. What became of love

As tradition dictated, Boxing Day came and went, and the holiday fervor in Britain finally began to die down. Life slowly went back to normal, whatever normal was for any particular person. Although, it seemed that everyone had one unsavory chore on their agendas. The blizzard that blew through on Christmas Eve left much of northern England buried under three feet of snow, and many cars and doorways needed to be dug up if anyone had any hope of making it back to work on time. More than a few prayers were sent up to the heavens that another foot would not be cruelly added onto that.

Rose and Severus woke very early to take care of their pavement. In another life, they might have been out there with every other Muggle living on that block, merrily shoveling snow to the tune of their neighbors’ grumblings. But why would they do that when they had magic to make those petty little chores easier? The only trouble with that was that they had to do it at a time when the Muggles couldn’t see them, which meant they had to get up before the sun had a chance to rise. It ended up being Rose who ventured out at five in the morning with her wand tucked discretely down her sleeve. With sharp turns of her wrist, she sent huge chunks of packed snow flying back, and once she had a clear walkway, she used a blast of hot air to melt the ice that had formed on the ground. Severus felt terrible as he watched her from the window. He would have liked to have been out there helping her, but Rose had been very firm. She didn’t want him out in the cold for very long, and he shouldn’t have to do that sort of work while pregnant. It wouldn’t take very long anyway, she added, so it was easily a one-person chore. If only that one-person chore did not include subzero temperatures and knee-deep snow. As the sun gave its first peak over the horizon, Rose stepped back into the entrance hall with soaked trousers and lips that bore a visible shade of blue.

“I’m sorry you had to do that, Rose,” said Severus, breathing in the steam that was rapidly filling the bathroom. Rose had decided that a nice hot shower was a good way to defrost, and she insisted that Severus keep her company. He sat and talked to her from a moderately comfortable spot on the toilet. “I would have come out and melted the ice for you.”

“Never mind, Sev,” Rose said as she ran her fingers through her long, wet hair. She could feel every muscle relax as the scalding water dripped down her naked body. Just on the other side of the shower curtain, she could see the silhouette that was her darling Potions master. “I know how your pregnancy makes you hypersensitive to the cold. I feel better taking care of that stuff myself. It was no big deal.”

“No big deal? The ends of your hair were forming icicles when you came in.” Severus leaned his back against the warming porcelain, and he crossed his arms over his swelling middle.

“Better me than you,” said Rose with certitude, and she pulled the curtain back slightly to look Severus in the eye. Though she was a little more lax than in the Gryffindor showers, she still had enough sense to keep certain bits hidden from view.

Severus noticed this from his seat across the tiny room. He saw how large drops ran down the slim figure behind the curtain, hugging the delicate curves of Rose’s body, and he felt a shiver of hesitancy in his stomach. It was a bit strange, really. Rose had been all over him the past couple of days, so keen to pleasure him when the moment called for it, especially since finding out about his pregnancy. He knew in his heart that he wanted intimacy with Rose, and he knew that would grow with privacy. But he hadn’t imagined that they would reach such a deep level of affection this soon into their relationship. For Severus, sex was something too consequential to rush into so hastily. What made it worse was that he had hardly anything to go by on that matter. When faced with that bare closeness, with Rose’s discarded clothes lying on the floor before him, Severus wondered if they were ready to take that step, if he was ready.

“Yes, I suppose,” he sighed, diverting his eyes down to the dingy tile beneath his feet. “But don’t feel that you have to do everything for me. I’m not as delicate as my condition suggests.”

“I know, but you can’t be too careful.” Rose smiled at him. “You know, there’s room enough for one more.”

Severus looked up at his sopping Gryffindor. There wasn’t a trace of mischief in her misty blue eyes, though her tone told Severus that Rose would not object if he wanted to join her. But instead of jumping at the subtle invitation, he got to his feet and bent over to grab her clothes off the floor. “I think you need that hot water more than I do. Speaking of which, I’ll go put on the kettle downstairs, that way you can have a cup of tea waiting for you when you’re finished.”

Rose nodded, though not without concern. She noticed the sudden dip in Severus’s voice, and his persistence to keep his eyes off of her. At first, Rose thought Severus was just trying to be modest in the face of her state of undress. But she soon began to wonder if there was possibly something more to it. “Severus?” she spoke up as the pregnant wizard opened the door to leave.

“Yes Rose?”

“Is everything alright? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” said Severus, shaking his head. “Take as long as you need, love. I will be waiting for you in the kitchen.” And with that, he was gone. He shut himself out, keeping the heat inside the tiny bathroom. Rose stood confused for a moment, now sure that it was something she said. Severus had been fine up until she made that little suggestion. She hadn’t been suggesting anything in particular, but perhaps she should have thought about how it would sound coming from her mouth. She swallowed a hard knot of worry as she retreated back into the hot rush of her shower.

**~HP~**

Later that afternoon, Rose sat in the sitting room alone. Casually flipping through television channels, she kept an ear open to the front door. Having noticed how weary Severus appeared by that time, as well as the slight ache in her joints, Rose decided that it would be a nice idea to break out her mum’s fifty pound note and order some take-away food in. Severus surprisingly agreed, and he pointed to the phone book that had recently been dropped on the doorstep. He insisted that he accompany Rose down the street to the nearest working phone box, even though he was feeling the drag of their early morning. But Rose assured him that she would be safe in that dodgy neighborhood, so long as she had her wand hidden away in her coat. She then promptly sent Severus upstairs for what appeared to be a much-needed nap.

As she came to realize that there wasn’t anything worth watching that evening, Rose looked around at the books surrounding her, and she started to feel the little nip of curiosity beginning to creep in. Quietly, she hoisted herself out of Severus’s armchair, adjusting the wrap jumper her mother had sent her for Christmas, and she began to wander up and down the length of the room, running her hands over the rough bindings. Rose hadn’t really been the nosey type in the past, but she did have her moments were she let her interests get away from her and it caused her to poke around slightly. And in this room, it was almost impossible to keep her interests at bay. Severus wouldn’t mind if she looked through some of his personal library again. It was an intellectual need, he could understand that. Rose briefly paused at the odd thought of calling herself an intellectual before she continued on with her quiet snooping.

She glanced over several intriguing titles, covering a broad range of magical theories and techniques. There were books on obscure potions ingredients from all over the world, and spell books that told of magic she had yet to see, even in her seventh – nearly eighth – year of study. But Rose didn’t have to open these books to know what some of them contained. She somehow knew that her fingers were potentially grazing over some very dark magic. And though she knew there was no one around to see her reading about it, she never wanted to take the chance of delving into it. Severus had told her time and time again that she should never have to know about that sort of evil, and she wanted to respect her lover’s wishes in his own home. She passed those over in favor of more promising subjects.

She was about to reach for a book on potion ingredients of the Siberian wastelands when something near the floor caught her eye. A small black book sat on a low shelf, tucked in close to the corner of the room. There didn’t appear to be anything printed on the old, flaky binding, and even if there were, Rose might not have been able to read it through the layer of dust it sported. Rose crept over and bent down onto her knees. She carefully pulled the book off the shelf, taking a strand of cobweb with it. Like the binding, the cover was so aged and worn out that the words blended into the dark background. Rose brushed off the unreadable title, and she used her thumb to pry the delicate book open. Rose was perplexed by what she saw.

It was a Gobstones manual…of all things, it was a Gobstones manual. This was truly bizarre, Rose thought to herself. Severus had never really liked sportsmanship of any kind. Gobstones in particular was up high on his list of petty annoyances, and frankly, Rose could agree. It was a pathetic little game, a waste of time even. So why would Severus have a decades old strategy guide in amongst his personal collection? Rose wondered if it was something left over from his school days, but she quickly dismissed that idea. Even if Severus did have an interest in the game when he was a boy, this book looked far too old for that. Actually, it looked like it was older than Severus given its state of decay. Rose started flipping through the pages, looking for a clue of some kind. She noticed that all over the stained pages, someone had written little notes to themselves, mostly ideas and strategies for future matches. Rose couldn’t help but notice that there was something oddly familiar about this, that the handwriting was just a little too similar to the delicate scrawl of her Slytherin lover.

All of a sudden, Rose heard something slip out of the pages and fall to the floor. She looked down briefly and then picked up what had landed before her. Her brow scrunched up as she studied the photograph in her hand.

A woman sat motionless inside the rectangular borders. Long lengths of lank black hair were tucked behind her ear as her dark, hollow eyes stared off into the distance. Her face was angular and gaunt, and the sallowness of her skin was intensified by the black and white film. And as Rose’s eyes travelled down, she saw that her shoulders and torso were just as thin. She wasn’t the ugliest woman Rose had ever seen, but she wasn’t a beauty queen either. The young Gryffindor turned over to the back, hoping to see a name written there. But all that she saw was a quick scribble that spelled out the year 1961. There was no name, nor any clues to this woman’s identity. Setting the open book down in her lap, Rose concentrated on the photo. It was a Muggle photograph, but did that mean the woman was a Muggle? And if so, how did Severus know her?

The Gobstones book slid down Rose’s legs and hit the floor in front of her. Rose might not have paid any attention if she hadn’t heard what sounded like a page coming loose. She looked down to see that a second photo had fallen out to the creases, and she reached for it instantly. The same woman was pictured, but this time a man was with her. The longer Rose stared at him, the more she realized that she was looking at the spitting image of Severus. He had the same hook nose, the same defined cheekbones, and the same sullen glare. He must have found the camera rather amusing because his eyebrow was cocked as he stood in the background of the shot. The unnamed woman looked back at him with a smile that could be taken as affectionate, letting Rose know that she must have known this man and known him well. She looked on the back again, and yet again, there was only a date. If it was to be believed, this picture was taken in 1959. Rose pondered for a long while, trying to piece together what she had in her mind. And with every minute that ticked by, one thought slowly started to overtake the others.

“Rose?”

Rose flinched slightly before looking up to see Severus coming down the stairs. She smiled warmly at him. “Hey Sev,” she said. “Have a nice nap?”

“Yes, I feel much improved,” replied Severus. He glanced down and noticed the book lying open, and his face fell when he saw the photos in her hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was just looking around,” Rose explained. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Where did you get those?” Severus pointed to the pictures, his voice becoming rather hard.

“They were stuck in the pages of one of your books and fell out. That reminds me, you didn’t play Gobstones while you were at school, did you?”

“Give me those,” demanded Severus, making his way over to where Rose knelt. He held out a tense hand to her, ordering her to hand over the photos. But Rose didn’t make a move to oblige. “Why?” she asked. “Who are these people?”

“It doesn’t matter, just give them to me!” The bark in Severus’s tone made Rose quickly hand him the photos, avoiding the need to rip them from her grasp. Severus probably glanced at them for a split second before folding them up and stuffing them into his pocket. He cleared his throat slightly before turning his attention back to Rose.

“Sorry about that,” he said, back to his calm demeanor. Rose wrinkled her brow in her confusion. “But Severus, I –,”

“Just let it go, Rose. It doesn’t matter, no harm done. However, I will take that book, if you don’t mind.”

Rose cautiously closed the delicate book and placed it into Severus’s waiting hand. “Why is it that you have a Gobstones manual amongst all this?”

“Oh, it accidently ended up in an order I placed to _Flourish and Blotts_ several years ago,” Severus explained to her. “I meant to dispose of it then, but for some reason, it slipped my mind.” Rose would have liked to believe him, but there was something in Severus’s tone that was making her suspicious. Something about that book and those pictures were bothering him, and that bothered her in return.

She was about to open her mouth to speak when they both heard a hearty knock at the door. She exhaled as she looked at Severus. “That’ll be our dinner,” she said.

“Very well,” Severus sighed. “You take care of the Muggle. I’ll see to this.” With a gesture to the handbook in his hand, the Potions master turned and headed back upstairs. Rose watched him go as she searched her pocket for her mother’s money. Even as she opened the door to greet the young Muggle delivery boy and handled the exchange of money and food, her mind was firmly fixed on her boyfriend upstairs.

That reaction all but confirmed her initial suspicions.

**~HP~**

“Those were your parents in those pictures, am I right?”

Severus’s head snapped up from the potions book Rose had given him, and he stared down to where Rose was seated on the floor. She was leaning on the low table in front of the sofa, working on a Divination essay, with an open textbook on one side of her, and what was left of her meal on the other. The Gryffindor looked to him with a cautiously curious face. “If you must know, yes,” he said before going back to his reading.

Rose reached for a ketchup-covered chip and quickly popped it into her mouth. Once she had swallowed, she opened her mouth to speak again. “Now Severus, I –,”

“Rose,” Severus interrupted with a sharp hand. “I understand that you are curious, but I would really prefer not to talk about this.”

“But Severus,” said Rose as she sent down her quill and crawled over to Severus’s chair by the fire. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. All this time we’ve spent together, with everything we shared, you never once mentioned your family. Why is that? Why is it that the only photos I’ve seen of them were crammed into the pages of a musty old book?”

“I can’t really explain it that easily, Rose,” said Severus. He let Rose creep up and rest her arm on his leg. “It’s a very long story.”

“As it is with much of your life,” said Rose. “Come on, Severus. Is it really so wrong for a girl to ask about her boyfriend’s family?”

Severus sighed, closing his book and setting it to the side. He gently ran his fingers through Rose’s hair, massaging her scalp. He knew that there was no easy way out of this, if Rose was being her usual stubborn self. But at the same time, he wished there was something he could do to end this discussion before it even began. Very few had even a remote clue about his family history. Sometimes, it was to protect himself, as was the case with the Dark Lord and his followers. But most of the time, it was simply due to Severus’s refusal to talk. Dumbledore knew that Severus had not had a happy childhood, but he didn’t know the half of it. Potter caught a glimpse of the torment Severus went through during those disastrous Occlumency lessons, and Severus had to admit a grudging respect for the boy in keeping that memory to himself in his post-war press interviews. The only person who really knew the depth of Severus’s pain was Lily, and there was a part of the jaded wizard that one time hoped that tragic tale would die with her. Though Rose was now the center of his world, Severus still could not bear the idea of divulging such deeply guarded information for the sake of his girlfriend’s youthful curiosity.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “My parents were Tobias and Eileen Snape. My mother was a witch, my father was a Muggle, and this was their home. There isn’t much more to tell, as far as I’m concerned.”

Rose paused, not really knowing what to make of such a short explanation. Her flaxen brow shadowed her eyes. “There has to be more to it than that. Family is never that simple.”

“Family is whatever you make of it,” Severus simply stated. Puzzled, Rose took his hand in hers. “It sounds to me like you’re not very fond of them if that’s how you put it.”

“It isn’t that, Rose,” said Severus, pushing himself up out of his armchair. He strode slowly about the room for a few seconds before easing down onto the sofa. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping anything from you, but Rose, you have to understand. My relationship with my parents is far too complicated to look back on my childhood fondly.”

“Severus, you know this is me you’re talking to.” Rose got to her feet and walked over to join the wizard on the sofa. “I know what that feels like, just look at my family. It’s okay, I’m all ears.” Severus offered her a slight smirk, but it was only to keep her content. She didn’t know what it felt like at all! Her parents had both made their share of mistakes, but there were worse things a parent could do to their child.

“I suppose it’s safe to assume that it wasn’t easy growing up,” said Rose, reaching for another chip and encouraging Severus to do the same. The baby would like it, she said to him. Severus did as he was told, but only for the baby’s sake. At the moment, food was the furthest thing from his thoughts. As to Rose’s notion, he shook his head indignantly.

“Money was always an issue when I was young. My father was a factory worker, which wasn’t the most reliable source of income. At one time, he worked at the textile mill up the hill, but it closed down when I was seven. After that, he went from job to job, all of which had meager wages. We were living week to week a lot of the times, and with only the bare essentials. You could just look at this house, and you can see what that was like.”

“I thought it was funny that you lived in a place like this,” Rose murmured, looking around the room. “But what about your mother? Didn’t she do anything for a living, just to supplement your father’s income?”

“She couldn’t, she had me,” said Severus. “Up until I started school, I was her responsibility. Besides, my father always said it wasn’t a woman’s place to work outside the home. Even when I went off to Hogwarts, he told her that it was his job to bring in the funds they needed to survive.”

“I see,” said Rose. She inched closer to Severus’s side. “What sort of a witch was your mother?”

“My mother…” Severus let his mind slip into his old memories, thinking of the old photos that he had hidden away in a drawer upstairs. “She was a fairly mild-mannered woman, a capable witch in her own right. I would love to sit here and tell you that she was this gifted sorceress who held the world in the palm of her hand, but that would be a fantastic lie. She wasn’t one to perform these complex feats of magic, not even when she was in school. I believe she could have gone on to do better things, but she was content with just being the captain of the Hogwarts Gobstones team.”

“Oh, so that was her book I found!” Rose gasped in understanding. Severus nodded. “Yes, it was hers. But I will say this about my mother. Though she was not the most powerful witch to walk the British Isles, she was very proud of her heritage. She was proud to be of Wizarding blood, and she was a proud daughter of Slytherin. Everything I learned about our world as a boy, I learned from her. ”

“She looked like a pretty distinguished woman, judging by those pictures in the book.”

“Well, she came from a distinguished background. The Princes were a noble pure-blood family. They might not have been one of the most recognized families in our world, but they did have their modest wealth and their purity to boast about. My mother was raised to mingle amongst the highest-bred of Wizarding aristocracy.”

“And yet your father was a Muggle,” Rose thought aloud, not sure if that was the right way to approach it. Severus saw past the slight bewilderment to see the true inquiry teetering on the tip of Rose’s tongue. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? A Death Eater with a Muggle parent. As you can imagine, it was during those years that Occlumency came in terrifically handy. Not one of those despicable bastards knew how closely related to the enemy I was.”

“But how does a pure-blooded witch end up with a Muggle man?” asked Rose, and Severus looked at her with an amused cock in his brow. “The same way a pure-blooded wizard ends up with a Muggle woman. My mother might have been raised to believe certain things about blood purity, but she didn’t want to be shackled into an arranged marriage simply to keep her offspring pure.”

“She wanted to have a say in who she married,” said Rose. “But a Muggle? Think about it, Severus. My father was thinking with his crotch when he married my mother, totally disregarded blood purity for good sex. With a woman, it’s totally different.”

Severus sighed. “I think it was the fact that my mother was not the most accomplished of witches after seven years of school that made her believe that blood purity didn’t matter as much as she once thought. She had been told that they were superior, and yet she was just average. So when she met my father, blood status just wasn’t important to her.”

“How did your parents first meet?” asked Rose. “What was so special about this Muggle factory worker?”

“Honestly Rose, I don’t know,” said Severus, shaking his head. He could feel his unborn baby fidgeting inside him, almost as though it was reacting to his growing unease. He moved his hand to his swelling middle to soothe it as he continued. “My mother first met my father not long after she left school, when she was living away from her family. But I honestly have no idea what she saw in that man. Of all the Muggles she could have picked to rebel with, she picked my father. He was a slave to industry, and had only a few thousand pounds to his name. He wouldn’t have been able to come close to the lifestyle that she was used to. And it wasn’t like he could make up for it with personality. He was terribly hotheaded, and he had hardly any grasp on eloquent language. He said what he meant, and he meant what he said. Being such a timid woman, I suppose my mother would have found such spontaneity attractive.”

Rose shrugged, beginning to form a picture of that young romance in her head. But so far, it wasn’t looking very pretty. “What did her family think about the relationship?”

“They didn’t like it at all. Honestly Rose, how else would a self-respecting pure-blood react to their child running off with a low-class Muggle? But Mother could not be persuaded to change her mind. For whatever reason, she loved that man, and she wanted to be with him.”

“How did your father feel about your mother being a witch?”

It was simple, harmless question, but it was enough to make Severus’s stomach lurch. He suddenly stood up from the sofa, tugging at the hem of his frock coat, and smoothing his hands over his baby-bump. Rose shifted in her seat, following him with her eyes as Severus started for the stairs. “Where are you going, Sev?” she asked.

“The baby is getting restless,” said Severus, lying only slightly. “I think I should go lie down for a while.” Rose nodded, however hesitantly, and Severus slowly walked up the steps toward the bedroom.

Rose sat confused on the threadbare cushions. She looked down at her unfinished essay, but she could no longer focus on her schoolwork. All she could think of was that abrupt end to that conversation, and how her question had gone unanswered. Severus was calm on the outside when he went upstairs, but Rose could still tell that he was upset. She could see that just by looking in his eyes. But what was it about that question that would cause Severus to walk away without so much as an attempt to explain? Rose pondered what she had said to him. With her experience in Muggle Studies, she knew that not all Muggles understood magic. Her own mother did what she could to ignore it, and Harry grew up in a cupboard because of his relatives’ intolerance. She had heard many stories of narrow-mindedness, with results ranging from the trivial to the extreme. But what did that mean for Severus? That’s when she remembered what Severus said about his father. He was a short-tempered man, and he sounded like he had no filter. And the way Severus talked about him, it sounded like there wasn’t much fondness behind it. Actually, it seemed there was a bitterness to her Potions master’s tone.

Rose’s eyes widened, and she gasped softly when she realized that she knew that tone.

She set aside her books and parchment, and banished her chip-covered plate to the kitchen. Rose then calmly made her way upstairs, fighting off the instinct to fly up those steps like a bat out of hell. She knocked twice on the closed bedroom door, but there was no response. Feeling a twinge of concern, Rose pushed it open with a creak. Severus sat on the edge of the far side of the bed, his back to the door. He turned around at the sound of the door, and Rose saw in his eyes the black hollowness that she dreaded to see. Her heart sank into her stomach.

“Coming to bed, Rosie?” said Severus, his deep voice much too soft for Rose’s liking. It was then that she looked out the tiny window and noticed how dark it had become outside. She stepped into the room and leaned against the wardrobe.

“I don’t know, are you?” she asked. Severus stared at her for a long moment until he realized what she meant. He then sighed and turned his face away again. “I have a lot on my mind.”

Rose sighed. “Why do I have a feeling it’s because of my last question?”

“You really are persistent, love,” Severus said with a hint of his casual sarcasm, although that was being smothered by his tired drone. “I told you before that my family life was complicated, and that had a great deal to do with it. I apologize for leaving you so suddenly, but I thought it was better to get off that topic before it got to be too much.”

“But you also didn’t give me an answer,” reminded Rose, catching Severus’s breath in his throat. He looked back to where she leaned her back against the hard wood of his wardrobe. Rose continued. “Severus, you once told me that I would feel better if I got over myself and talked about my family. It’s obvious to me that you’ve kept this locked up for too long, and you need to get it off your chest. Have you not spoken to anyone about your parents?”

Severus shook his head. “It wasn’t anyone’s business to know.”

“Even if you would have benefited from it. You don’t have to take my word for it; I’m just an eighteen year-old kid. But if Dumbledore were standing here right now, I’m sure he would say the same thing. It’s time to let it all out and get it over with. How did your father feel about magic?”

“Rose, please don’t make me,” Severus pleaded, clinging to control of his voice.

“I’m being firm with you this time, Severus,” warned Rose. “But it’s for your own good. How did your father feel about magic?”

“Rose –,”

“Don’t make me ask it again!”

“He didn’t like it, alright?!” Severus finally snapped. All the suppressed anger in the pit his stomach started to bubble up to the surface as he vented on in a raised voice. “He considered magic to be unnatural, an outrage. I can’t say that my father liked much of anything, but he always took a special interest in that displeasure. He forbade the use of magic in his house. And if he ever caught my mother performing even the smallest spell, he made sure that she paid the price.”

Her jaw dropping open, Rose slowly slunk down to sit on top of her closed trunk. Already, she felt like there was a hard stone in her stomach. “What would he do to her?”

“He would put her in her place; call her a freak, an abomination. He would ridicule her that a witch was not a desirable wife, and he sometimes threatened to leave her if she used magic around him. My mother had to keep her wand hidden away under the floorboards, and she only felt safe to take it out when he was away at work.”

“But why did she marry him if that’s how he treated her?” asked Rose. “Why would anyone subject themselves to such verbal abuse?” Severus took a few deep breaths, glancing down at the floor. But just when Rose thought she wouldn’t be getting a response, he spoke. “Why did your father stay with your mother?” he asked in return.

It took barely a second for the meaning of that question to sink in, and Rose felt like she had been punched in the gut. “She got pregnant…”

“She didn’t have any other choice,” Severus explained grimly. “Her family had already distanced themselves from her, but once she got knocked up, they completely disowned her. She no longer had any claim to the Prince name, and she had nowhere else to go. My father proposed to her the moment he found out, and Mother accepted on the hope that life would get better if they were married.”

“Well, did it?” asked Rose, her voice getting smaller. She hoped that there would be some light in this story, but that hope was dashed when Severus shook his head.

“If there was ever a time they were happy together, I can’t remember it,” he said. Rose swallowed hard, and she slowly walked over to sit beside Severus. “They fought a lot, didn’t they?”

“All the time,” said Severus. “They fought about anything you could possibly think of, about money, work, their marriage. And it only got worse and worse with every year that passed by.”

“That must have been so hard on you,” said Rose, not really sure if it was right to make that assumption. Severus leaned in over himself and started massaging his temples. Rose brought her hand up to gently rub his back.

“It was hard in the sense that I didn’t have a real relationship with my parents,” said Severus. “When my father got angry, he would often take it out on the first person who got in his way, and that was almost always me or my mother. Even if it had nothing to do with us, he would use us as his punching bag, and his moods could change in an instant. Because he was so volatile, we had to do what we could to stay on the right side of his anger, and for me, that meant distancing myself from him. The moment he walked in the door at the end of the day, I would disappear into my room down the hall and I wouldn’t come out until he stormed out to go sit in a pub somewhere.”

“But that left your mother,” Rose whispered before she could stop herself. Immediately she regretted it when she felt Severus shudder as he took in a sharp breath.

“He would come stumbling in late at night, reeking of booze, just looking for a fight. He was a hostile man to begin with, but when he drank…I can’t describe him any other way, Rose. He was a monster. The things he did to Mother when he was drunk, they bear repeating!”

“He wasn’t violent with her, was he?” asked Rose, her voice now starting to slowly hike up in pitch. Severus pressed his eyes closed, exhaling hard. “She was lucky if he was sober, because at least then, he knew what he was doing. But it didn’t matter either way. His hand was far too heavy for her to ever be safe.”

Rose’s jaw dropped open, and her breath was shaky as she tried to inhale. “Oh Severus…”

“Don’t say it, Rose,” said Severus, his voice now starting to break, and it got worse with every word. “Don’t say that you know how that feels because you don’t! Your upbringing was tough, but you never had to deal with anything like that! You don’t know what it’s like to be a small child, crouched in a corner, watching your father backing your mother into a wall with a raised fist, screaming at her the entire time. You didn’t have to listen to the sound of glass breaking, pained cries, and the insults being thrown at her. It didn’t matter if he was drunk or not, or whatever he was attacking her for, he always called her the same things. He called her worthless, brainless, a freak with no use but to be his whore! He blamed her for all of his problems, and he made her pay for it. You don’t know what it’s like to be seven years old and having to comfort your sobbing mother when it was all over.”

Rose sat frozen on the bed as a tear dripped down her cheek.

“You’re right,” she choked out. “I don’t know what that’s like. I mean, my father is an arsehole, but at least he was never a drunk! And as much as he hated my mum, he never once raised a hand to her. How could anyone do something like that? That was his wife he was beating, did he have no respect for her at all?”

“No,” Severus growled, rising from the bed to start to pace the floor. “He had no respect for her, and he had no respect for me. Sometimes, he would attack her because of me. He said that it was her fault that I existed, that she was just breeding others like her. He said that I would grow to be just as useless and freakish as her! You don’t know how many times he told me how insignificant I was for something I could hardly control.”

“But you were his son!” Rose cried, fresh drops falling down her face. Severus turned his back to her, but it was only to hide from her the tears that now threatened to spill from his eyes. “As if he didn’t know that. But I was never going to get anything more than an acknowledgement as long as I was magical. My mother wanted me to know everything about our world from an early age, but it wasn’t safe as long as he was around. If he ever got wind that she was encouraging my abilities, he would smack her around until she sobbed that it would never happen again. And when he was through with her, he would turn to me.”

“No…” Rose gasped. Severus fought to control the emotions that were tearing his insides to bits at those dark memories. “He only had to beat me with his belt once for me to know that I had to stay out of his way.”

“Please don’t say that he hit you often,” begged Rose, wishing she could rewrite a story with a few simple words.

“He would have hit me more often if my mother hadn’t been there to stop him. He would come after me for something as benign as a broken teacup, and my mother would throw herself into a row to deflect the attention off of me. If anything, many of my beatings came when I was older, when I had finally had enough of his shit and had the gall to get between him and Mother.”

“You stood up for her,” Rose said in an attempt to encourage Severus. “Your mother had to be proud to see her son do something like that.”

“If she was, I never heard,” Severus croaked, his throat closing up on him. Rose was confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Not all of their fights were about me, but they happened enough that my mother realized that she couldn’t give my father another reason to criticize her. She tried to care for me as best she could, but she was always afraid of him calling her a bad mother on top of everything else. Once I was old enough to take care of myself…she…”

“What, Severus?” said Rose, clutching at her heart. “What did she do?” Her heart dropped when Severus turned to her and showed her the utterly lost expression on his face, wet trails under his deep, but empty eyes.

“She ignored me,” he whispered. “She only gave me the basics, and nothing more. There were days when I was a student where I could barely get the time of day from her. She no longer talked to me about magic; that was the school’s job. And she only wrote me once every term when I was at Hogwarts. To think that if she took an interest in my education, that would have made her a bad mother! By paying me notice when I needed it, she was doing wrong!”

“She had no choice,” Rose boldly stated, and Severus realized that she was exactly right. “The point is that at least she tried to be a good mother to you, against the odds you were living with. But Severus, I still don’t understand. If your father was a drunken bastard who abused his own wife and child, why didn’t your mother ever leave him?”

“You have no idea how many times I asked her that when I was a boy.” Severus stalked across the room and eased down to sit on Rose’s trunk by the wardrobe. “Apparently, she did try to leave him when I was an infant. She bundled me up and took off while he was at work. But she didn’t get very far. She had a family who wouldn’t speak to her, and she had no money of her own. She ended up going back to my father because she had nowhere else to go, no other means to survive.”

Rose now felt a burn of anger in her stomach. Severus didn’t have to grow up the way he did if his mother had been able to find some other way to escape. But what else could she have done? She was cast out of a pure-blood family with too much pride to be able to fully love their daughter. They would rather send her back to the vile Muggle they hated than admit that their daughter bore a half-blooded son. They both could have gotten away if blood-purity remained the fable it really was. Suddenly, everything that her father did to her in keeping her from her namesake seemed completely irrelevant.

“It’s not right…it’s _not fucking right!_ ” Rose spoke in a harsh hiss, feeling the fire in her gut rising up to the surface. She took several hard breaths before turning to look at Severus. “Where are they now?”

“Dead…both of them,” said Severus, bluntly despite the hitch of emotion.

“What happened to them?” Rose asked carefully. She didn’t even know why she would ask such a stupid question given how upset Severus already was.

“When I was sixteen, my mother fell ill…it was cancer. Though she knew there were treatments available to her at St. Mungo’s that would have helped fight off the disease, or even just buy her more time, my father refused to let her go. Instead, she got the crude Muggle treatments, and only what they could afford. I knew that my mother was fighting an up-hill battle. After what she and I had been through together, she deserved to live out the rest of her days free of that kind of pain. And yet I wasn’t there to help her through it. So while I was at school, I started researching. Since my father wasn’t helping her, it was up to me. I wanted to create a potion that would be able to cure her completely.” Rose nodded with raised eyebrows, now fully understanding where Severus’s interest in those sorts of medicinal potions came from.

Severus continued. “I lost house points for breaking into the restricted section, I got detention for illegal experiments, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was trying to save her…” He paused, his chest heaving as his eyes started to well up again. “But…but in the end, I was too late.”

“Oh god, Severus!” Rose cried, and she flew across the bed to fall at Severus’s feet. Severus clenched his teeth against the sob that fought to get out, but he once again regained enough control to continue speaking. “It was February of my seventh year, and I thought I was close to cracking the potion. But one day, Horace Slughorn showed up during a Charms lesson, and he pulled me out of class. He took my up to the headmaster’s office, where he and McGonagall were waiting for us. They then sat me down in front of Dumbledore’s desk, and he told me that my mother had passed on the night before.”

“Oh Sev…I’m so sorry,” Rose wept in her sympathy, gripping Severus’s knees.

“I didn’t know what to think…the one person I had left who remotely cared for me was gone. I had failed her when she really needed me. The only thing I could actually think to ask was whether or not it was peaceful. Dumbledore assured me that it was a quiet passing…her death was the most peaceful thing to ever happen to her.” Severus tried to wipe away his offending tears, but Rose just reached up and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“They allowed me a few days away from Hogwarts to attend the funeral. Even in death, I felt sorry for my poor mother because the only people who were there were myself, my father, and a Muggle priest.”

“How did your father react to her passing?” asked Rose.

“He took it as well as he took anything in life. He seemed so numb those days, like it hadn’t totally sunk in.” Severus glanced down at the positively perplexed look on Rose’s face, and he shook his head. “Don’t think on it too much, it doesn’t make sense to me either. Honestly, I thought he would be glad she was dead. Instead, it was like he was left with this huge void.”

Rose shrugged her shoulders. “There’s no way to really predict how people like that will act.”

“I wish someone had told me that back then,” said Severus. Rose noticed that the hand that rested at Severus’s side was starting to tense up into a fist. “After the funeral, we came back here, and my father started to drink his way through the cellar. I suppose I got lulled into some sort of false security because he got me to join him, and he talked to me like I was at least human. It was during this conversation that I told him what I had tried to do.”

“You told him about the potion?”

“I thought he would simply dismiss it, revert back to calling me a freak. But I could never have predicted what actually happened. He flew into a rage, and threw me against the wall. He blamed me for my mother’s death, that it was my failure that killed her.” Severus abruptly stood up to pace again, pushing Rose to the side. “He shouted to the heavens that if I never existed, she might still be alive. He then broke a bottle over the table and came after me…he beat me within an inch of my life before I could turn and fight back. In all the battles I have fought in my life, I never thought that the worst would be against my own father. We were both battered and bloodied when morning came.”

Still down on the floor, Rose was crying again. But she didn’t give into her heavy emotions and sob, no matter how natural it felt. Instead, she simply breathed hard through her nose, leaning on her trunk for support. It was amazing how much it hurt to feel this way. But then, Rose had never felt such an onslaught of both sympathy and anger in her life.

“That night was the last time I ever spoke to my father,” Severus further explained. “When I returned to Hogwarts the following day, I thought myself an orphan because that useless drunk was dead to me. And evidently, he thought the same about me…you know, Rose, I joined the Death Eaters right after I left school. But it wasn’t because of blind ambition or zealotry for the cause that sent me running to the Dark Lord so young. It was because once I was part of those ranks, I would have a reason not to return to this house that summer’s eve.”

“You just wanted to get away from your father…”

“As far away as humanly possible. I disappeared into the very world he detested so violently, and he became a ghost of a memory. Those were some dark years, but I was happy to be free of that torment. When the Dark Lord and his followers did those unspeakable things to Muggles, a part of me liked to imagine it was my despicable father they were torturing.”

“What became of him?” Rose asked, already imaging the horrible things that could have happened to that sinful lout, all of which he rightfully deserved.

“He died four years later of liver disease,” said Severus. “It figures, the fucking bastard drank himself to death. I wouldn’t have known at all if the Muggle authorities hadn’t somehow tracked me down to come identify his body. I still don’t know why I went. All I remember was how I didn’t feel a thing when I saw him laid out on that slab. By then, he was just another man, another dead man. So I did what I thought was the most appropriate action. When the coroner asked me if that was my father, I told him, _‘I have never seen him before in my life.’_ ”

Rose’s eyebrows arched up upon hearing that. “You dumped him on the Muggles?” she asked, unable to mask the stun in her voice. Severus rolled his eyes as he turned around to stare down at her.

“He showed me no respect in life, so he would receive none in death,” he said. “And I mean this when I say it, Rose. If I knew where that pitiful sod was buried, I would take immeasurable joy in dancing on his grave.” If someone else had said that to her, Rose would have fiercely laid into them with a razor sharp tongue. But Severus had a point. If you lived a life like that, did such terrible things to your own family, then you deserved to die in that fashion…forgotten. As far as Rose was concerned, this Tobias Snape had a nice cozy spot in Hell especially for him, right beside that of one Lord Voldemort.

Severus finally grew weary of his angry pacing, and he sat down on the bed to lean in over himself. He gave a heavy sigh, and in a flash, Rose was at his side. Wrapping her arm around his shoulders, she leaned down to rest a cheek on the Potions master’s shoulder, and she pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “May I ask one last thing?”

Severus shuddered under Rose’s hands, but he did open his mouth to speak. “I suppose…”

“Why did you come back to this house after all of that?”

“When my father died, all my parents’ possessions and assets were automatically passed down to me, and that included the house. I was twenty-two years old, I had just started teaching at Hogwarts that year, and I needed a place to stay when school was not in session. It made sense to return here for the summer holidays instead of spending it in dingy, dirty inns, as was my habit in my years as a Death Eater. However, if I was to do that, I had to do what I could to erase what had happened all those years ago. So I got rid of much of my parents’ belongings, and I destroyed every photo I had of them, save for the two you found this afternoon.”

Rose looked down at the wood floor, and she sighed softly. She then went back to comforting Severus as best she could. “Oh Severus, I’m so sorry. I just…I just feel horrible…all those times I called you a miserable git.”

“Truthfully speaking, you were within your limits to call me that,” said Severus, using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe away what remained of his tears.

“It still wasn’t fair to you. But in any case, it’s all over now.”

“No Rose,” Severus shook his head at her. “Pain like that never leaves you, no matter how many years go by.”

“But Severus,” Rose said as Severus straightened himself up to look at her properly. “You must look at this another way. You made it out alive, you made a life for yourself, and you became a better man than your father was.”

Severus stared her in her blue eyes for what seemed like an eternity. He then took in a shaky breath. “Did I? Did I, Rose?” He pulled out of Rose’s grasp and stood up. “When I was a child, the only man around to model was my father. But what good did he do for me? He taught me that life wasn’t worth living if it didn’t go your way, that you couldn’t trust anyone around you, even those closest to you. He taught me that pain could only be cured through self-medication. And he taught me that the only way to solve your problems was with force. I grew up in fear of him, made me hate those like him! He forced me to depend on a helpless mother, whom he had already intimidated to the point where she rejected me. And he single-handedly drove me down a path that I never should have gone down! And now you see the result…” Severus turned to Rose and spread his arms out to her. “Look at me, Rose…look at me, and see what I’ve become.”

Rose sat deathly still on the bed, her breath growing shallow and faint. But before Severus could degrade himself any further, she floated over to shut him up with a kiss. She gently stroked the side of his face as she pulled away. “I see nothing but a brave, incomparable wizard who’s done far more good than he will ever know. You’re an incredibly courageous man who stared death in the face, and bled for our freedom. You show immense courage even now in carrying this child.” A warm hand found its way to Severus’s stomach, which Severus protectively covered with his.

“You’re greater than you know, Severus,” Rose continued. “I have never met another man whom I have been so blessed to know. If your mother could see you now, she would be so proud to call you her son. And I know that your child will be just as proud to have you as their father.”

“They won’t if I can’t care for them properly.” Severus walked past Rose and strode back across the room. Rose followed him with her eyes, craning her head over her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“For weeks, people have been telling me that I will be a good father. But how do I know that I even have the ability? What if something happens to me after the child is born? What if I don’t know how to parent in any other way?” Severus exhaled hard as he turned back to Rose, who was slowly approaching him. “I don’t want to become my father, Rose. I don’t want to hurt my child the way that he hurt me.”

“And just saying that tells me that you won’t,” said Rose. She wrapped her slender arms around his torso. “Between you and me, Severus, we have seen every single way a man can fail. And whether you choose to see it that way or not, that will help you become a better father. You know exactly what not to do when raising your child. If anything, love, remember this. There is one thing that separates you from your father. You know how to love, and you know how to love properly. It was love that kept you going for all those years, and it is love that you live for now. And for that reason alone, your son or daughter will never know the same pain that you went through.”

“That possibility might never have existed if not for my love for you,” Severus told Rose, holding her close to his chest. “I only wish that you could have told me such things sooner. Why is it that you always know the right thing to say?”

“I think that’s a matter of opinion,” Rose commented, the sound of her voice slightly muffled by Severus’s frock coat. “But when you have lived through as much as we have, you get pretty good at consoling people. Come on Sev, you know me. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it was true.”

Severus’s first instinct was to shower Rose with words, telling her how much he loved her. But he quickly decided to spare the gushes and romanticisms, and he brought her chin up to capture her lips with his own. He could feel Rose’s nails on his back, gently moving over the rough fabric of his frock coat, sending an eager shiver down Severus’s spine. The kiss deepened, Rose leaning further into Severus’s body, causing him to stumble back against the wardrobe. The fervent couple didn’t miss a single beat as their tongues battled for dominance.

They broke apart after a long moment, but only to catch their breath. Before Severus knew it, Rose was holding his face, and she was attempting to devour him again. He snogged her right back, cupping the back of her head, tresses of red hair weaving between his fingers. Severus could feel his heart racing, his blood rushing. All of his pounding instincts were pushing him towards one thing, and despite attempts to resist, Severus realized that he just couldn’t take it anymore. He wrapped a strong arm around Rose’s waist, and lifted her up off the ground. He then carried her over to the bed.

As soon as her back hit the mattress, Rose went to work on the many buttons of Severus’s coat, popping them out of their holes with remarkable speed. Severus in turn let his hands wander all over Rose’s body, touching every curve. But when he realized that his impatient fingers had found the button of Rose’s jeans, he stopped. Hesitating, Severus tried to straighten himself to sit upright, but Rose caught him by the back of the neck.

“No…” she softly gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Severus anxiously stared down at the breathless woman underneath him with a wrinkled brow. “Rose…what –,”

“I want you, Sev…I want you so badly.” Rose went back to wrestling with black buttons. But Severus pulled away from her. “Rose, Rose, just…just slow down.” He settled down next to Rose.

“Severus, what’s the matter?” asked Rose. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine…”

“Then what’s wrong?” Rose sat up, gripping a handful of the wizard’s clothes. Her face was calm and relaxed, but Severus could see a twinge of worry in her eyes. “Don’t you want me?”

“I do, but –,”

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Rose interrupted. “I came on too strongly, didn’t I?”

“No, no Rose,” replied Severus, rather weakly. “It’s not you…it’s me.”

Rose reached up to gently touch Severus’s face. “What do you mean?”

“There’s…there’s something you should know, Rose,” said Severus, taking her hand and caressing it in his lap. He had wondered how exactly he would explain his unique little situation to Rose, the fact that they were about to cross a line in their relationship where she might be more experienced than he was. He had toyed with the idea of simply dropping it on her when her mind was lax and lenient, but since Rose herself hadn’t brought up anything of a sexual nature, he rejected it. Severus realized that when it came to their consummation, he would only have a limited amount of time to come clean about that embarrassing truth, to covey to Rose how special she was for this to even happen. But now, it seemed that borrowed time had run out.

Severus gently squeezed Rose’s hand as he looked up at her. She gazed at him serenely, comfort radiating from her beautiful blue eyes, and Severus felt his nerves relax a little. Gathering together his courage and doing his best to push down the shame, he blew out a breath before he began speaking.

“I probably should have told you about this sooner, but the truth be told, this is moving a little too quickly for me. You see…” Severus swallowed hard, feeling the sweat form on his forehead. “The encounter that resulted in my pregnancy has been the only encounter I have had.”

Rose’s expression stayed soft, but a certain inquiring stare escape her eye as she processed the statement. Her gaze wandered down Severus’s body before travelling back up to meet his obsidian eye. “Severus, are you trying to say what I think you are?” There was another deep breath, and then Severus nodded slowly.

“I have never been as intimate with anyone as I have with you. Some might argue that my child’s conception counts, but I would hardly consider that to be affectionate.”

Rose stared at her lover for a moment, continuing to look him up and down with careful eyes. Her silence made Severus start to worry that he had turned her off with his greenness; he was twice her age, why wouldn’t she? But after a while, Rose smiled warmly at him, and she leaned in for a generous peck. “Well…I guess we’ll just have to figure this out together.”

And just like that, all of Severus’s muscles relaxed. It was embarrassing to be in this situation with so little experience, but it felt better to know that Rose still had her own sexual innocence to help put him at ease.

Rose captured Severus’s mouth again, moving to kneel before him. She gently got her hands inside his unbuttoned frock coat, easily slipping it over his shoulders. And the feather-light touch of Rose’s fingers on his back made Severus throw his whole being into that kiss. Rose started unbuttoning Severus’s shirt, stopping only to let the Potions master pull her jumper over her head. Shirtless and panting, they tongue-wrestled for several long minutes before completely falling over onto their sides. Their trousers and underclothes were tossed to the side, and Rose held onto Severus’s upper body as he unhooked her bra. That too went flying to the pile of clothes on the floor.

Severus had to stop for a moment, feigning the need for breath. He sat up in bed, staring at Rose in all her naked glory. He saw her slender body in its purest form, every last feature adding to her virginal aura. Long locks of hair fell across her bare chest, but Rose’s hand came up to brush it back over her shoulder, letting Severus get a full view of her. Whatever light there was in the little room was illuminated in her pale skin, giving her a haunting, alluring glow. To Severus, Rose had never looked more spectacular.

But when his eyes travelled back up to Rose’s face, Severus did not see the same sort of reaction. Rose was staring at him, no distinguishable emotion in those beautiful blue wells. One of her hands hovered at her breast, almost like she was holding it there to prevent it from reaching out. Severus followed her eye-line, and his heart sank when he realized she was looking at his exposed belly. Rose said that she would take him as he was, pregnant or not. But would that hold up when faced with his condition uncovered for her to fully see?

“Change your mind?” he asked, his voice shrinking to timid levels.

Rose sat still for a little while longer, that same entranced look on her face. She reached out to softly touch the warm skin of her lover’s stomach, feeling his unborn baby turning under her palm, and Severus tenderly touched her hand. Rose looked up to smile, but paused suddenly. She moved closer, close enough that Severus could feel the raw warmth of her body against his. And just before Severus could open his mouth to speak, Rose brought her hand up and gently touched his neck.

She had never seen the scars left behind by Voldemort’s near-fatal attack, not this clearly at least. She always knew they were there, hidden beneath Severus’s high collars, but she never dared to ask about them. There were moments when Rose thought she wouldn’t get the privilege; personal trauma aside, Severus didn’t like to throw around his more recent recognition in their post-war world. But to see those healed slashes and punctures for herself, the result of her lover’s ultimate heroism, it created a surge of emotion that made Rose fall in love with Severus all over again.

He was not a perfect man, but he was hers…and she wanted him with all her being.

She showed her affection and desire by nuzzling into Severus’s neck, and Severus shuddered as he felt her wet lips on his skin. He groaned, relishing in that incredible sensation, forgetting the pain those scars had once brought him. Rose’s kisses slowly became gentle bites, coaxing a harder groan from the Potions master. Severus brought his hands up to caress Rose’s body, and he heard her humming moans resonating in his ear. Her nails dug into his bare back, fingers pulsing into tensing muscles. Severus took the sides of Rose’s face in his hands and he attacked her mouth. He didn’t even realize that they were moving downwards again until Rose’s head and shoulders landed on the pillows.

Severus looked down at the woman underneath him. Her hair lay scattered about her, and her legs were already splayed to the side. Lights puffs of breath brushed against Severus’s neck and chest. And her soft eyes were locked on his, wordlessly pleading him to take her. Still so young, yet no longer a child, she yearned for love beyond any she had ever known. Severus could hardly believe that this angelic thing was his.

_‘I’ll be gentle…’_ he silently told her, and with a last deep breath, he lowered himself onto her.

The world faded into nothing around them. Time became a meaningless detail, meant to be forgotten. Nothing else existed so long as Severus was consumed in Rose. Their hard breaths melded together as separate movements became a fluid one. Clasping hands tore at the sheets, gripped at the headboard above them, pawed at sweaty skin. Severus felt Rose all over him. He felt how her hands would grip and bruise his back and shoulders, and then relax and fall away. He felt her tense legs twitching with each soft grunt she gave. He felt as her fingers lightly stroked the bump that brushed against her own taut abdomen. Severus pressed his eyes closed, and he listened to the sound of Rose’s panting muffling his labored gasps. He heard all of Rose’s puffing declarations of love and pleas to keep going, heightening the instincts that Severus relied on in his clouded, passion-drugged state. Never before had he felt anything like this. He had never been so taken by such a powerful sensation that took control over his entire body and mind. All of the pain that he had endured in all his years could not add up to this overpowering ecstasy that could only be found in the love he held for this woman. He never wanted this to end! He never wanted to let go of this pleasure, this euphoria!

Rose called out for more, her gaping, animalistic grin not hindered by the tear that dripped down the side of her temple to mix with her sweat. Severus opened his eyes to see this, and he thrust his whole being into his need to pleasure her the way she did him. Together, they danced love’s dance, finding harmony the way nature intended, and creating an intense heat to melt away winter’s icy hold on the world outside.

It ended with a great keening moan and a breathless cry.

Severus rolled over onto his side, his heart pounding and still breathless. His whole body felt limp and tingly, so much so that he couldn’t sit upright to dress again. All he could manage was to pull the covers over his and Rose’s still naked bodies. Already, he could feel his eyes slipping closed. The feeling that sex stirred up in him was just phenomenal, but it drained him both of strength and energy. He was exhausted, but it was the most welcome exhaustion that Severus could ever recall. He relaxed his tired body into the mattress, gradually allowing his mind to nod off.

But just before he could fall asleep, Severus felt the bed dip behind him to the sound of rustling sheets, and Rose snuggled in to spoon him from behind. Her arm draped over his torso, and she rested her hand on his swelling middle. The baby gave a sleepy turn; it seemed that Severus and Rose were not the only ones who were tuckered out for the night. The sleepy Potions master covered his young love’s hand with his own, caressing his unborn child together, relishing in one last touch of passion before they both slipped into a long sleep.

“I love you, Sev,” Rose whispered into her older lover’s ear. “I love you so much. No matter what you think of yourself, you are the most amazing man I’ve ever known. You always have been, and you always will be.”

“I love you too, Rosie…so much. Please…don’t ever leave me.” Severus’s hold on Rose’s hand tightened ever so slightly. He had waited far too long to know love’s full power, holding out for the woman he could hope was truly meant for him. And now that he had her, now that he had felt the ultimate passion of sexual relations with her, he didn’t ever want to go back to the way life was before Rose stumbled into his world. He never wanted to be so alone ever again.

Rose nuzzled into the back of Severus’s neck, dusting his skin with gentle butterfly kisses. “Never Sev…I will never leave you. You have all of me now, my heart, my mind, and my body. I will always be here beside you. Nothing will ever keep me from being with you.”

Severus said no more, choosing instead to let Rose’s touch lull him to sleep. He wondered how a life so flawed could become so right. He was born into despair, and raised in contempt. He had been abandoned by all those he loved, left alone to a life of self-loathing. He had always assumed that his fate would be no better than that of the miserable souls who brought him into their wretched world, and yet he now lay with a woman who brought him boundless happiness. This was never supposed to happen, to have a woman who loved him so wholly with everything she had. But now that he at long last had everything he wanted, Severus was not going to give it up for any reason. He knew he had mountains to climb ahead of him as his pregnancy advanced, but he wanted his beautiful Rosie there with him through every minute of it. He had given everything to Rose; his body, his heart, his very soul. With one heated, passionate moment, he had devoted himself both to her and to the intensely secret life they shared.

There was no going back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now we're all caught up. Updates will now be coming on a weekly basis. Thank you to those of you who have been reading, commenting, and leaving kudos.


	53. The werewolf's gift

Never in his life had Severus thought that he would wish that the Christmas holidays would never end. He loathed to look at the calendar and watch the days go by, getting closer and closer to the time when both he and Rose had to return to Hogwarts. Time alone was just too perfect for the happy couple for it to end. But alas, though they thought themselves to be quite powerful, neither of them had the ability to slow down time. Those short weeks flew by with the snowflakes on the wind, and Severus and Rose once again found themselves at point where they would have to say goodbye, even if it was only temporary. One of the saddest sights in Severus’s recent memory was watching Rose wander around his home, picking up her various clothes and belongings to stow away in her trunk for the long journey back to school. Sadder still was standing on the pavement of those cobbled streets as he watched her board the early morning train that would take her back to King’s Cross Station. Severus felt his heart aching when Rose turned to give him one last look before disappearing behind sliding metal doors. And with a great gust of freezing air, the train sped off into the distance.

Severus wasted no time before heading back to his little house to pack the last of his belongings before he too left for the castle. Even though Rose had left before him, he would still be arriving at Hogwarts ahead of her. Albus had suddenly decided that he didn’t want the pregnant Potions master to make another extensive trip, and he arranged to open up the Floo network so that Severus could transport himself directly to the headmaster’s office. Severus originally wanted to object, but once he thought about the other ways to get back to Scotland without Apparating, all of which were quite uncomfortable in nature and not very compatible with his pregnancy, he realized that he had no reason to complain.

“I say, don’t you look well-rested,” Albus commented as Severus stepped through his office fireplace, suitcase in hand. “Did you enjoy your holiday, Severus?”

“I did indeed,” said Severus. He took a second to brush the soot off his robes before turning to face the older wizard behind the stately desk. “I hate to admit it, Albus, but you were right. It was nice to get away for a few weeks.”

“I hope you have been well since the last time I saw you.”

“Quite well,” Severus nodded as he sat down in the visitor’s chair, watching Albus stroll around his desk to sit nearer to the younger wizard. “If I’m honest, this is the best I’ve felt in years. It’s a wonder what two weeks without stress can do. My pregnancy hardly irritated me at all. Of course, I did sometimes find myself missing the meals here of all things. Merlin save me from these blasted cravings!”

Albus smiled a twinkly smile, and he listen to Severus with immeasurable delight. There was something different about the Potions master, more than just the rounding belly visible just under folds of black fabric. The lines that had long been imprinted on Severus’s forehead had gone, and his face bore a healthy glow. He was also much more casual in his conversations, or at least he was from Albus’s viewpoint. If the elderly wizard had to take a guess, he would say that this pregnancy was starting to relax Severus, ease his mind finally. He seemed to be content with his life at last, and Albus could not have been any happier for that. “Didn’t I tell you, Severus? I knew that a few weeks alone were exactly what you needed.”

“Ah Albus, you know well that I was never alone.” Severus glanced down at the bulge at his waist. “I was just fortunate that my future child already seems to be well-behaved.” He went on to explain that he should be returning to his dungeon quarters and was starting to rise from his seat when Severus abruptly let out a quiet gasp. He settled back down, a hand coming up to rest on his stomach.

“What is it, Severus?” asked Albus, already moving to fly to the Potions professor’s side. Severus however held up a hand to the headmaster, keeping him in his seat. “It’s alright, Albus. The baby just kicked rather suddenly.” He gently rubbed at the spot to soothe his restless unborn.

Albus’s bushy white eyebrows arched up, and Severus noticed that curious glimmer behind his glasses. “Did it, now? Goodness, I do hope the little one isn’t causing you too much trouble.”

“Movement is often unexpected, but it is manageable for now,” Severus explained.

Albus pulled his chair closer to Severus, glancing down at both the hand and the bump it protected. He allowed himself a moment to take in the sight of this suddenly parental Potions master, caressing his middle in a manner more affectionate than in recent weeks. The old wizard could feel the quiet bliss radiating from the younger, and his heart leapt when he saw the subtle smile that tugged at Severus’s lips. The boy was definitely happier, at least at first glances.

There was another quick intake of breath from Severus, telling Albus that the baby must have given another kick. He carefully brought a hand up and let it hover slightly as he asked, “May I?”

Severus paused, not sure how to respond at first. He knew that pregnancy had a way of attracting unwanted attention that almost always ended in senseless touching. While he had been relieved that his colleagues had kept their hands to themselves, a small part of him never honestly thought that they would want to feel the little flutters going on inside him. A month ago, he would have jerked the hem of his robes around him to hide his stomach, but two weeks of Rose touching and caressing him had gotten him used to the feel of another person’s hands on his child, someone other than Hogwarts’ attentive Mediwitch. It couldn’t hurt to allow his old headmaster get closer. If anything, Severus was just grateful that Dumbledore asked his permission first. With a reluctant sigh, he let his hands fall to his side, and he carefully parted his outer robes to better expose his belly.

Albus carefully reached out and laid his hand on the stretching fabric of Severus’s frock coat. The pregnant Potions master sat uncomfortably for a moment, but he soon relaxed under the headmaster’s harmless touch. And apparently, that was what the baby had been waiting for because it burst into a flurry of flips and turns. Albus let out a hearty chuckle as he gently rubbed at the spot.

“Oh, my dear boy,” he said, his voice filled with some quiet awe. “That is simply wonderful! And such an active child too!” Severus said nothing, instead choosing to let Albus have his bonding moment with the baby. This man was no doubt going to play a big part in his child’s life, and if Severus was ever going to get used to the constant fawning over himself and the little one he would bear, now seemed to be a good time to start.

After a few minutes of hapless stroking and witless giggles, Severus informed Albus that he really should be returning to the dungeons to get settled in again. Albus agreed and stood up to steady Severus in case he stumbled. Severus however had no such trouble, and he pulled out his wand to quickly cast a Glamour Charm over his abdomen before grabbing his suitcase and bidding Albus a good afternoon.

Albus watched him go with a warm smile, knowing that Severus was finally on the right track to happiness, though he might have already found that in his future child.

**~HP~**

Life at Hogwarts slowly returned to normal as students and staff resettled into their respective routines. Likewise, Rose and Severus returned to theirs, going back to the deeply guarded secrecy that their relationship was founded upon. The only difference was they began to take a bit more risk in their time together. Late evening encounters began to extend into the daylight hours, hidden behind tightly locked office doors. And now that they had consummated their relationship, they both wanted more. Rose now spent all of Friday and Saturday nights with Severus in his personal chambers, completely ignoring her eleven o’clock curfew. It was a daring move as far as Rose’s living situation was concerned, given that her roommate was one of the most observant witches in the world, but as long as Rose was there in the dormitory when the sun came up, then Hermione shouldn’t have much reason to be suspicious. After all, it wasn’t that uncommon for Seventh years to be out of bed long into the night.

Getting reacquainted with her fellow Gryffindors proved to be a bigger challenge than Rose originally anticipated. She had left Hogwarts with a big secret, but she came back with an even bigger one. It suddenly got a tad bit more difficult to focus on her friends and whatever was going on in their lives when all that was on her mind was Severus and her special nights with him. But what made that nagging feeling worse was that they all seemed happy to have her back in their circles, especially Hermione, Ron, and Harry. How could she look them in the face and lie when she knew for sure that she had found the love of her life? The only comfort that Rose could take pleasure in was that while her comrades were great witches and wizards, they were not mind readers. So all Rose could do was the same thing she had been relying on since early December; separate the two big parts of her life, and just continue on acting as though such a division did not exist. She gossiped in the library with Parvati and Lavender over a copy of _Witch Weekly._ She brewed some extra Invigorating Draughts for her inept male friends. And when she disappeared after supper, Hermione thought that it was to sneak in some extra time with a certain professor she fancied. No one had a clue that Rose was breaking a multitude of rules right under their noses.

Life goes on as usual, Rose kept telling herself. Nobody had to know there was something up if she didn’t want them to.

“I’m telling you guys, I think it’s going to be a boy. The firstborns in my family have always been boys going back for decades.” Ron paced around elatedly in front of the common room fire, Rose and Hermione watching him from their place on the couch. It was a little odd to see the ginger lad this enthusiastic so suddenly, but there wasn’t a single soul in that tower that could blame him. Over the holidays, Bill Weasley and his wife Fleur announced that they were expecting their first child, and Ron could not have taken the thought of becoming an uncle any better.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” said Hermione. “I’ve heard stories about parents being convinced they were having one gender only to be surprised with the other.”

“I don’t know, Mione,” Harry commented from a desk across the room, where he was working on the next day’s Charms homework assignment. “Arthur and Molly had six boys before they had Ginny. I would wager that Bill and Fleur are having a boy.”

Hermione giggled as she craned her head to look at the boy hero. “Did I ever tell you about my mother’s friend who painted her whole nursery pink but ended up giving birth to a baby boy?”

“Ah, cut it out guys,” Ron said with a wave of his hand, the light of the fire reflecting off the brand new leather watch Hermione had given him for Christmas. He went back to his proud pacing. “I still can’t believe how bloody excited I am about this. I’m going to be an uncle before I leave school!”

“Well, you should be,” Rose offered. “A new baby is something to get worked up about.” She quietly got up and started making her way over to the portrait hole. It wasn’t that she was bored with the conversation; it was just that it was Saturday. Not only that, it was a very special Saturday, and Rose had some things to tend to before the sun fell behind the mountains.

“Say, what advice do you think you can you give me, Rose?” Ron asked, almost making Rose scratch her heels across the wood floor. Her turned back hid the look of slight panic in her face. She hadn’t really given too much commentary on the impending Weasley birth only because of her involvement in Severus’s pregnancy. Frankly, Rose didn’t know whether it was the secret of her relationship with him or that of his delicate condition that was the higher priority in terms of protection. Either way, Rose benefited from her relative silence. She turned carefully back to look at Ron.

“Advice?” she asked back, wanting to get an idea about exactly what he was referring to.

“Didn’t you say that you had what, ten cousins? You’re the eldest one, right?”

“Second eldest, my cousin Roger is the eldest of us.”

“Oh, well you’re the eldest girl. That means you must have done a lot of babysitting. Got any pointers for us?” Ron nodded his head in Hermione’s direction, and the Head Girl’s cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink.

Rose smiled at her friends, and she let her stance relax as she rested a hand on her hip. “Well, that’s true. I have had my share of babysitting duties over the years, but all I can really say is that every child is different. I come from a family with children that range in age from twenty-one years to fourteen months, and every one of us has a different personality and temperament. You just have to do what is right for that particular child, and roll with the punches they throw at you. Besides, the really little ones are easy. It’s when they start walking and talking that they get to be hard to handle. Take my cousins for example. The fourteen month-old is a little angel compared to the two four year-olds.”

Ron’s grin suddenly went slightly wonky, imagining all the scenarios that could prompt Rose to say that. The red-haired girl started laughing internally. If that was his reaction to her kinder description of her little relatives, she would love to see what he would do if she called them by their proper titles of little monsters. Her fellow ginger shifted where he stood, apparently thinking ahead of himself. “You wouldn’t mind a few desperate owl posts in a few years, would you?”

“From you, asking for help?” Rose laughed. “Don’t be silly, that’s what your mother’s for. Just relax, Ron, you’ll be fine. Just let your brother have his baby, and enjoy it while you can. They don’t stay that small forever.” She once again turned to leave.

“Where are you going, Rose?” asked Harry, and Rose again came to an abrupt halt. She quickly rummaged through her mind to come up with a suitable excuse. “I was just going to run down to the Muggle Studies classroom. I need to speak with Professor Wicker about something.”

“But you and I were supposed to study for the Transfiguration quiz on Monday,” Hermione spoke up. “Don’t you remember?”

“I know, Hermione,” said Rose, waving a slender hand at her. “Just meet me in the library in half an hour, near the Charms section.” Rose flashed them all a bright smile before finally crawling through the portrait hole, exiting out into the halls. She briefly worried if she came across as suspicious, but Rose quickly dismissed her concerns. Right now, the only thing on her mind was dashing down to the kitchens as fast as possible. She would have to find what she needed quickly if she wanted to meet Hermione on time.

**~HP~**

One would have thought he was being followed the way Severus walked through the halls. Rounding the corner as he came out of the hospital wing and slowly descending the stairs, the Potions master’s onyx eyes kept shifting around the halls, as though he were searching for something. Each time a student happened to turn into the corridor, Severus nearly flinched. True, he was never at his most relaxed after Poppy’s checkups. And this one in particular had carried a little extra weight than in previous weeks.

Poppy had sent him a message that morning, telling him that she needed to speak to him at earliest convenience. Concerned for his health and that of his unborn child, Severus made the trek up to the infirmary around midday, and the Mediwitch ushered him into his private, soundproof room. She sat him down on the bed, but instead of whipping out her wand to begin her usual assortment of diagnostic charms, she pulled up the nearby visitor’s chair and sat down across from him. She told him that she had used her holiday to completely comb through the library, and rummage through the seemingly endless stream of papers and files in the St. Mungo’s archives. And after months of tireless research, she finally found what she was looking for. At last, she found the spell that caused Severus to become pregnant.

It was simply titled the _Conceptus Masculinus_ Spell. It was a little-known bit of magic, with only a handful of documented cases in recorded history. The way it worked was that the wizard wielding the wand would cast the nonverbal charm, and the inflicted male would be magically, permanently imbedded with the necessary parts for childbearing. Those parts would then lay dormant until the first sexual contact with another male, and it only took one shot for conception to take place. Once pregnancy was established, the spell would gradually change the male’s body to adapt to gestation and eventually birth.

To Poppy, it seemed fairly simplistic; it was male pregnancy that progressed much like a female one. Why had it been so difficult to find? The truth lay in some deeper research in the Restricted Section. The spell was considered a curse because of the complications that could and had occurred in those documented cases. Of the few unlucky wizards who fell victim to this dark spell, only two had survived to tell about it. Whoever the dark witch or wizard who created the spell was, they obviously did so with the intention of causing great pain and long suffering to its victims.

But regardless of the spell’s dark history, Poppy was not shaken. Many of those records were dated during the fifteenth to sixteenth century, and the earliest known case occurred back in the 1450s. Medicine and magic had both come in leaps and bounds since those days, and though Severus had his troubles in his first trimester, he was still in relatively good health, and he was improving with each passing day. If he continued on the same track he was on, Poppy was quite confident in a safe delivery and a healthy baby.

The Mediwitch then carried on with her usual checkup on Severus’s condition, and was pleased to see not only that he was in good shape, but also how relaxed his demeanor had become. He was still the same biting, sarcastic Potions master, but he was much calmer. She also got a great kick out of feeling the baby moving under her professional hands for the first time, coaxing a gentle giggle out of the aging witch. Poppy reminded Severus that at nearly five months pregnant, he was approaching the time when they could cast a Paternal-detection Spell to find out who his child’s other father was. But Severus just shook his head, still not willing to entertain the idea. Poppy nodded her understanding, and she finished her examination swiftly. As Severus rose to leave, he noticed that Poppy gave him a very suspicious smile as wished him a relaxing afternoon. He however gave her a stern look of distain as he left.

There was no way he could have a relaxing afternoon on this particular day.

It was thirty-ninth birthday. If Severus could have things the way he wanted, he would gladly forget the occasion even existed. Birthdays to him were nothing more to him than a grim reminder of one’s mortality, and he never made a spectacle out of his own. After all, no one else did in the past. His birthdays largely went unnoticed when he was a child, save for a few small presents from his mother. Lily had given some solace as he got older, and there had been some very thoughtful presents from her while they were at school. But then their friendship fell out, and his mother died, leaving that cold January day as just another day of brooding and slight depression. It was better to ignore it than to attempt at celebrating privately.

Of course, that didn’t stop his colleagues from trying to perk him up year after year. Every year, he was pestered with well wishes, sometimes the odd gift here and there. And Severus had the sense that his approaching fatherhood would cause an additional stir that year from a few certain people. He knew they would be looking for him as he made his way through the castle. He had already done a fine job at avoiding them, using his work as an excuse. All he had to do now was to get back to the safety of his quarters, where he could shut himself away from the world and await the arrival of his redheaded princess.

He was in a deserted hall, just a few steps away from the main stairwell when he was suddenly stopped by a voice calling out, “Severus, hello there!” Severus came to a sudden stop, grinding his teeth. Knowing that he couldn’t slink away now that he had been caught, he turned around and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Remus approaching him with a relaxed smile.

“Oh, it’s only you,” he said, letting the werewolf get closer.

“I hear you were just up in the hospital wing,” Remus mentioned. He quickly showed Severus the vials of Invigoration Draughts and Pain Potions in his breast pocket, letting the other wizard he had just come from Poppy’s himself. Remus looked around briefly before continuing in a lower register. “How are you feeling today? How’s the baby doing?”

“Both of us are faring quite well,” said Severus, nodding his head. It seemed that the mangy mutt had finally worn him down because Severus no longer fought to push him away or snapped at him for the slightest bit of talk. It had taken twenty-five years, but the two of them were finally able to speak to each other as the equals that they really were.

“That’s good to hear,” Remus smiled. “By the way, happy birthday. I know you’re not very fond of the day, but I thought I should say it anyway.”

“Thank you,” Severus spoke in a low grumble, trying to restrain himself in the open. “Remus, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really must be getting back to the dungeons.”

“Are you sure? It’s almost time for tea in the staffroom. I was just heading there myself if you would like to come with me.”

Severus shook his head. “A lot of people like to be social on their birthdays, but I’m not one of them. I would prefer to stay out of the line of fire while I can.”

“Oh, I think you’re overreacting a little,” said Remus, walking beside Severus as they started down the hall together. “Most of the professors know how much you don’t like your birthday, so they’ll likely want to leave you alone today.”

“Do you want to bet on that?” Severus asked with a cocked black brow, but Remus chuckled. “It will be fine. One cup of tea can’t hurt.”

The two wizards slowly made their casual way through the halls, bypassing the main stairwell and heading for the staffroom. As they approached the gargoyle-guarded door, Severus couldn’t hear much commotion on the other side. But naturally, just because he couldn’t hear his annoying colleagues didn’t mean they were not in there. Remus seemed to understand his hesitation because he stepped up to enter first, pushing the door open with a keening squeak.

“Ah Severus, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all day!” Cassandra came bounding up to them, just about backing them into the wall as they entered the staffroom. Severus pulled his face as far away from the Muggle Studies professor as humanly possible, and Remus stuck out a hand to block her from getting any closer.

“Ai Cassie, no need to jump into his lap!” he said in a slightly hitched voice. Upon hearing his voice, Cassandra seemed to almost instantly settle down, and she smoothed out the bodice and skirt of her white and lilac colored dress. “Oh yes, of course. Quite right, Remus. So sorry, Severus.”

Severus carefully peeled himself off the wall and straightened his back. “Since you seem so eager, what could I possibly do for you, Cassandra?”

“Absolutely nothing,” said Cassandra. “You should be asking what I could do for you. It is your birthday, after all.”

“Everyone else will want to leave me alone, huh?” Severus sneered, craning his neck slowly to the slightly rattled lycanthrope beside him. Remus shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, so I was wrong. But don’t blame me. I didn’t know that she knew it was your birthday.” Over at the table across the room, Pomona and Filius were laughing behind their hands.

“Well, you know what they say. There are no secrets at Hogwarts.” Cassandra somehow got an arm around Severus, and she led him over to the couch. She then hustled back to the table. “You just have a seat, lad, and I’ll fix you a cup of tea. You take it with two sugars, no cream, correct?”

“Cassandra, considering the fact that I am older than you are by nearly five years, it makes absolutely no sense for you to insist on calling me _lad_.”

“I’m sorry, it’s a force of habit,” said Cassandra, as chipper as she ever was. She handed Severus a steaming cup of tea. “I tell you, I have never heard of anyone making themselves so scarce on their birthday.”

_‘Oh, just let it go, you daft dimbo,’_ Severus thought rather irritably to himself. He took a sip, and wasn’t terribly surprised to find Cassandra had deliberately made his tea a little too sweet. “If you knew me for longer than a day, you would realize that I’m not fond of celebrating.”

“Really? Well, when I saw the gifts that Filius and Pomona had gotten you, I thought that I should get in on the fun.”

What was that? There were gifts? Suppressing the imminent desire to growl, Severus whipped his head around to his fellow Heads of House. Sure enough, the pair of them had already risen from their seats, each of them with a suspicious package in their hands. “For Prospero’s sake!” Severus grounded against his Adam’s apple. “Eighteen years! How many more will convince you to put an end to this nonsense?”

“Enough with you, Severus,” said Pomona. “As much as you would like for us to ignore your birthday, I’m afraid to say we cannot.”

“She’s right,” Filius chirpily agreed. “You don’t have to be so miserable every day, and everyone deserves one day in the spotlight.”

“Is a dim spotlight too much to ask for?” Severus asked, more to himself than his companions. Cassandra giggled. “You know, I never will understand your desire to play the constant martyr.” Remus flinched and made a move to shut the woman up, but Severus held a hand to him, thoroughly stopping him in his tracks. Lucky enough for them, the flippant brunette witch excused herself from the group, saying that she had to check on the chocolate cake she and the House-elves were baking down in the kitchens, her contribution to the unwanted celebratory efforts. Severus rolled his eyes as the door swung closed behind her.

Filius was the first to step forward with his present. Severus initially wanted to refuse it, but he realized that no good would come from that. He would offend his colleagues, get a stern talking-to from Albus and Minerva, and end up feeling lousy at the end of the day. So he reluctantly took the small package, trying not to hold his breath as he pried open the box. His eyebrows nearly met his hairline when he saw the black diamond cufflinks resting against red velvet.

“Rolanda brought us the idea,” Filius told him. “We thought it was such a good idea that we all decided to chip in for them.”

“And this is from Filius and myself,” said Pomona, her voice uncharacteristically impish. Severus only had to take one look at the bottle-shaped parcel she held for him to know what it was. Now he was annoyed, greatly annoyed in fact. This to him was a case example of hitting him where it hurts. These two knew how much he enjoyed a stiff drink at the end of a long day’s work. They also knew damn well that he was forbidden from taking part in that until at least May, and they were rubbing it in his face by gifting him with a bottle of liquor. Really, giving alcohol to a pregnant man, that’s just cruel! Severus’s jaw was firmly locked as he tore off the wrapping and read the label on that bottle of eighteen-year-old scotch.

“We know you can’t enjoy that tonight as you would like,” Pomona started, holding back a laugh. “But trust me, Severus. When you get your first taste after you have the little tyke, you be thanking us for weeks.” Severus just sneered, shooting a misguided glare at Remus, who was letting his eyes drift to the ceiling in an attempt to stop a chuckle from escaping.

Much to Severus’s relief, the conversation turned to much more mundane topics, mostly about the rumored cuts in funding that could be hitting the school within a few months if Albus and Minerva could not negotiate a deal with the Ministry. It was a rather dispiriting discussion, but Severus was glad that the attention was not solely on him. And Remus was a godsend of a colleague. He kept the talk strictly on business, effortlessly diverting any questions about Severus or his unborn child. Once Severus had finished his tea, Remus offered to walk back down to the dungeons with him, and much to his utter surprise, the Potions master did not refuse. The two of them left in silence.

Severus decided to allow Remus into his quarters for a moment, wishing to continue the conversation they had carried on through the halls. He also allowed him to watch as he took the Glamour Charm off his body, letting the werewolf fully see the curve of his abdomen. Perhaps it was because he knew Remus would not irritate him the way their fellow professors insisted upon. Or perhaps it was because, whether Severus cared to admit it or not, he was starting to get used to the werewolf’s presence, and quite possibly enjoying it. Sweet Merlin, he really must be going soft if he was actually enjoying Lupin’s company!

But either way, Severus didn’t mind it so much. Since returning to Hogwarts, he had been in a much more pleasant mindset, and his mood and temperament had eased. He was happy to be in love, and there was no point in trying to fight off those good feelings. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone else was complaining now that he wasn’t so angry all the time. Severus almost couldn’t wait to tell Rose how trouble-free she had helped his life to become. Oh, she would be so pleased, and ultimately, so would he.

A House-elf popped into the sitting room, and it presented Severus with a chocolate layer cake iced with a thick coating of fudge. The Potions master rolled his eyes with a sigh; he honestly had no idea why Cassandra felt the need to put so much effort into pleasing people. But even if she was trying too hard, he had to admit a very slight appreciation for the gesture, especially when Remus pointed out how much trouble she had to have gone to that afternoon. He of course helped himself to a set of plates from the cupboard, cut out a small sliver for each of them, and sat down on the sofa beside Severus’s armchair.

After what felt like a few minutes of casual chatting, which actually turned out to be close to an hour, Remus rose to make his way back up to his own quarters. But before he bid Severus a good afternoon, he reached into his robe pocket, pulled out three tiny packages, and rested them on the table in front of the sofa. A light tap of his wand transfigured them to what appeared to be their proper sizes. Severus let out a long sigh; three more unnecessary presents to top off an overly long birthday.

“Minerva told me to give you her best wishes,” said Remus. “She also said that she would have delivered those herself if she and Albus hadn’t got caught up in Ministry negotiations.”

Severus rolled his eyes as he undid the twine and package wrapping of the largest parcel, and he raised his eyebrows upon peering inside. After weeks of offering, Minerva had finally taken it upon herself to buy Severus a whole new set of robes to better suit his pregnancy. There were six frock coats, six pairs of trousers, a number of shirts, two nightshirts, and a dozen pairs of boxer shorts. All of them were laced with charms that would allow them to grow with his belly. Severus sighed with a careful smirk. He knew that this wouldn’t come cheap, and he felt guilty that Minerva had spent that much on him. But he was still touched by her generosity. That at least was one thing he wouldn’t have to worry about for a while.

The second package was obviously from Albus, if the purple ink on the note attached was any indication.

_I hope this will tickle your interests when you are unwinding in the evenings. As much as you might want to ignore it, I do hope that you enjoy your birthday._

Severus could feel the corners of his mouth twitching up at the sight of the untouched cover of _Clearing the fog: An intense inquiry into Memory Restorative Draughts._ He had half-expected to receive a guide to infant care for desperate wizards that could not be called intellectual in any sense of the word. As smothering as Albus could be, he knew that Severus needed some time for to pursue his own interests as well as his child’s. He was not going to let Severus be forgotten in the fuss over the coming birth.

He looked up to see that Remus was still standing by the sofa, holding the last package, which was a simple white box. “This is a little something I wanted to give you. It’s actually more for the baby than for you personally, but I thought it seemed appropriate for the occasion. I hope you don’t mind.” He held the gift out to Severus, who took it from him very slowly. Severus looked at him with a hint of hesitance, but after a brief moment, he pried off the delicate lid and peeled back the flimsy paper shelling inside.

It was a blanket, a pale green swaddling blanket. Severus gently ran his fingers over the smooth, untouched, feather-soft fabric before lifting it out of the box. He was astonished by how light it was. He might not have realized he was actually holding anything if he hadn’t felt the warmth of it against his skin. It was then that Severus got a better look and noticed the silver Slytherin crest embroidered into the corner, and he felt his breath deepen. He could almost see the image of a tiny, dark-haired baby wrapped up in this blanket as it slept in his arms.

“The first thing that Dora and I received before Teddy was born was a swaddling blanket,” Remus told him, not gloomily, but still reminiscing. “She once told me that what she would have liked to do was to start a tradition of sorts, give a blanket to each of our friends when they had their babies. I thought that now would be a really good time to start. If Dora were still with us now, I’m sure that she would feel much the same way.”

Severus didn’t speak, still too dazed by this intensely personal gift. He didn’t think that Remus considered him a friend so much that he would personally have a baby’s blanket customized for his child, and more so, use him to honor his late wife’s wishes. He knew that they were on considerably better terms as of late, but it suddenly became clear to Severus that Remus valued him as more than just a colleague close in age. He really did want their budding friendship to extend beyond their work.

“Tha…thank you,” he managed to mutter, just loud enough for the other wizard to hear. Remus smiled warmly, his amber eyes shimmering in the dim light. “Don’t mention it, it was my pleasure. I must be off now, so I hope you enjoy the remainder of your birthday.” He turned and laid a hand on the door handle. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m telling Cassandra that the cake was just delightful.” He then disappeared into the dark dungeon halls, leaving Severus to his reverted silence, that delicate blanket sitting in his lap.

**~HP~**

“I didn’t know what to say to him,” Severus said, pacing around his bedchamber. His dressing gown hung off his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his bulging middle. “What could I say to him when he had such a personal reason behind it? I mean, this should have been something for Potter’s first child, not mine.”

He looked back to his unmade canopied bed, where Rose laid and listened. Stretched out across the mattress, she lay on her front with her chin resting on dainty knuckles. Her crossed ankles hovered over her bare arse, as pale and unmarked as the day she was born. Her matted red hair stuck to her back with the sweat she had worked up in the last hour. And the only thing that hid her breasts was the rumpled duvet. She was the perfect picture of a young woman just sexually satisfied.

“I don’t know why you’re bothered about this,” she said. “It’s a beautiful baby blanket he gave you.”

“It’s not so much about the blanket as it is about the gesture.” Severus walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed by Rose’s head. His hand came to rest on his stomach. “Lupin has been trying to work his way into my good graces since the war ended, but I never saw him doing something like this. Rose, the only reason why I talk to Lupin in the first place is because I was forced to. We work together on a near daily basis, and he is one of those responsible for keeping my pregnancy safe. Giving a gift like that seems to call for more than just the basic relationship between colleagues. And to bring up Tonks like that…I repeat, Rose. What do you say to that?”

Rose tenderly touched his arm. “Why is it so hard for you to accept Lupin as a friend? He’s a good man, and he would do anything for those he cared for. He obviously cares about you enough to protect you and the baby from harm. If you ask me, you couldn’t ask for a better comrade than him.”

“It might not be so difficult if we didn’t have such a miserable history,” said Severus. “It was one thing that he hung around with three painful little shits who sought to make my life a living hell. But it’s even harder to forgive someone after staring down a tunnel, thinking you’ll find one of your classmates, only to see a fully transformed werewolf instead.”

“It wasn’t Lupin’s fault that happened,” Rose reminded him, causing Severus to glance down at her. He briefly wondered how she had come to know that, and whether Potter had anything to do with it. “And even so, that was years ago. Both of you have come a long way in your lives, and it’s time to put the past behind you. Besides, you two are a lot more similar than you think, or at least in my opinion. If you two let go of whatever discrepancies you have left, I think you could get on extremely well.”

Severus reached out to run his fingers through Rose’s hair, carefully sweeping the long tresses over her shoulder. “I wish it were that simple, love. I suppose I just should have been better prepared for such a gift.”

“Tell me the truth, Sev,” said Rose as she slowly pushed herself up to sit beside Severus. She did nothing to hide her gritty nakedness from him. “Is it Lupin giving you the gift that’s bothering you, or is it the gift itself?”

“A little bit of both,” Severus reluctantly admitted, looking her straight in the eye. Rose gave him a look of loving sympathy, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. She then slipped her hands inside Severus’s dressing gown and wrapped her arms around his unclothed torso. The pregnant Potions master pulled her in tighter as he continued. “I have done a great deal of thinking about the logistics of bringing up this child. But up until now, it didn’t seem to really sink in. Funny how something as small as a child’s blanket can change that.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do after the baby is born?” asked Rose, her fingers brushing over her lover’s belly. “I mean, all you have here are these three rooms. Will you move into larger quarters?”

“I would prefer that the child stay here with me for the first few weeks, so these rooms will suffice well until the school term ends. Once I return to Spinner’s End, I can easily convert the old guest room into a nursery.”

“But what about when you return to teaching?”

“I am not leaving my post, and I am not leaving these quarters. Rose, I have lived in these rooms for eighteen years, my entire career, and a child is not going to change that. I plan on speaking to the headmaster about the possibility of adding on another room for the baby.”

Rose nuzzled into the crook of Severus’s neck briefly before placing another peck on the pale skin. “Sounds to me like you have this worked out,” she said, but Severus gently shook his head. “Nothing is completely set in stone. And that’s only the matter of housing. I haven’t thought much about setting up a nursery, buying the all the necessary merchandise, how I’m even going to balance my teaching duties with raising a child.”

“Well, maybe it’s time that you start thinking about it,” said Rose. “You’re five months pregnant now; it’ll be over before you know it. I know it’s a lot that you have to consider, but you have people who are willing to help you. You have Lupin, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and I’m here to do whatever I can.”

“I can’t exactly take you shopping for baby clothes,” Severus reminded, but Rose just giggled. She slowly started to tug him further back onto the mattress. “I’ll be your support then. I told you already, Sev. Whatever it is I can do for you, I will. I’ll support you through the stress, massage away your aches and pains…pleasure you when you get overly randy.”

“Rosie…” Severus said with a smirk, but he couldn’t get much more out because Rose was already gnawing on his neck.

“Let’s make love again, Sev,” the young Gryffindor lioness purred. “Make love to me again.”

“Now Rosie, I thought you said you wanted a bit of Wicker’s chocolate cake?”

“Who needs cake when you could have me?” Rose giggled. “Come on Severus, this is enough pondering for one night. You should be enjoying yourself on your birthday.”

“I can’t say I have honestly enjoyed my birthday since I was a small child.”

Rose looked up at him with a cocked flaxen brow, her mouth open a touch as though she were pondering a thought. But then she let go of Severus’s body and shifted back up to the head of the bed. Severus watched as she reached over to the bedside table, where the jar of chocolate sauce she had brought to him rested. Rose dipped two thin fingers in, bringing up a large dollop of the dark, velvety sweetness, and then slowly smeared it down the center of her torso and above her breasts.

“That was before you had me,” she said, an impish tweak to her normally controlled voice. Severus could already feel his mouth watering, among other things in the face of such an enticing image. He almost had to wonder why Rose would think to use sex as a distraction, but he quickly decided that it was a nice idea for the time being. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep with her anyway. Rose gently cocked her head at Severus, her alluring smile not hidden by the dim light. She sucked the chocolate off her fingertips before crooning, “Come and get it, Professor…”

With a mischievous look of his own, Severus carefully crawled up the length of the mattress, propping himself over Rose, leaning down to slowly lick the chocolate off over her body, his tongue hugging her most intimate curves. Her soft, aroused laughter spurred him on, up her trim waist, around her delicate bosom. Severus eventually found Rose’s ear, which he started nibbling without a hint of hesitation. Rose cried out with a grin as they collapsed across the bed together.

**~HP~**

Rose was awakened by the sound of a bell chiming, and she forced herself up in bed, reaching for her wand on the bedside table. A short flourish deactivated the Time-detection Charm she had set for herself. The room was so dark that Rose could barely see her hand in front of her face, so she silently lit the tip of her wand to get a better look at the clock. It was five in morning, a time when virtually no one in Hogwarts was awake. But it was exactly for that reason that Rose had to get up at this early hour. There was no better time for her to slink back up to her dormitory unseen.

Severus was still asleep in the bed beside her, locks of black hair falling over his face as he rested on his side. Not wanting to disturb him, Rose carefully slid off the bed and quietly gathered up her discarded clothes. Once she was dressed again, Rose came around the bed and knelt down by Severus’s head. She gently brushed the hair out of his eyes, and she leaned in to place a kiss on his pale forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered, lightly rubbing the blankets under which her lover’s unborn child lay. She then lit the tip of her wand again, and very quietly left the bedchamber. She walked on her toes as she exited Severus’s quarters into the cold, dark halls.

Rose crept through the halls as quietly as she could as she made her way up each floor of the castle. She was swift in her step, but careful not to let her shoes make noise. Every turn she took, he wand stuck out in front of her, checking for anyone that might see her. But Rose was lucky. Portraits snored around her, the ghosts obviously had better things to do at that hour, and even crotchety old Filch needed to get some sleep sometime. All in all, Hogwarts’ hallowed halls were pretty desolate, and Rose’s chances of being caught out of bed seemed pretty slim. But of course, being wary of their surroundings never hurt anyone.

Still tired and bleary-eyed from her too early rising, Rose was puffing for breath when she finally stumbled into the empty Gryffindor common room. But instead of laying herself out on the couch before the smoking ashes in the hearth, Rose sighed as she resigned to climbing one last set of stairs to reach her room. She could feel the tax on her legs, and her chest ached with bent up anxiety. But when she approached the door at the top of the girls’ dormitories, Rose composed herself and cautiously turned the handle. She pushed the door open as slowly as possible to avoid any creaks and groans.

She walked in to find Hermione fast asleep in her bed, her covers tugged up to nearly cover her head. Rose carefully tip-toed over the old floorboards, and once she had stripped off her jeans and tossed them onto her trunk, she climbed into her own bed and buried herself under the sheets. She almost instantly fell back to sleep. It wouldn’t be very long before she would have to get up again, and breakfast wouldn’t be very fun, but Rose gladly surrendered to the slight sleep deprivation. It was a small sacrifice she had to pay to have her secret affair with her beloved Potions master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The explanation of the spell that enabled Severus's pregnancy was created rather quickly, but I tried my best to make it somewhat believable. 
> 
> Keep on reading, and leave your kudos and comments.


	54. The first chimes of passion

Rose fingered through a small bag of chocolate drops as she scratched her quill across a long roll of parchment. Tucked into the only deserted corner in the common room, she sighed as she tried to tune out the noise of the younger students behind her. Writing a long essay on the Whomping Willow and its closest relatives was not exactly her idea for spending her day, but Rose didn’t really have much of a choice. Severus was out of the castle that day, and he wouldn’t be back until the evening. The circumstances however prevented Rose for being the slightest bit bitter. As it turned out, Severus had been coaxed down to the village by McGonagall, and the two of them were now looking at different selections of baby furniture. Rose was happy that Severus was finally starting to make arrangements for the nursery, but she still wished that she was there to help pick out a suitable crib for her lover’s unborn child.

“Hey Rose,”

Rose’s head jerked up at the sound of her name, and she looked around to see Lavender come bounding up to her little corner table. “Oh, hi Lav. What do you want?”

“Parvati and I were wondering if you would like come upstairs and help up us get ready for tomorrow,” Lavender explained, twirling the ends of her blonde hair. “Justin and Dean are taking us into the village, and we could use some help with our nails. If you’re busy, no harm done. We can try and manage just the two of us.” All Rose had to do was look down at her half-finished, dreadfully dreary essay for her to decide what the higher priority was. She hastily rolled up the parchment and capped off her bottle of ink. She then leapt up with a smile and followed Lavender out of the common room.

The two girls flew up the stairs to the second topmost dormitory, where Parvati waited for them with a basket full of little bottles of nail polish. She offered Rose a choice of color, but Rose passed that over to Lavender. Once she and Parvati had picked their bottles, Rose rolled up her sleeves and got herself into the proper manicure mindset before setting herself to the task.

“I still can’t believe how romantic Dean is,” Parvati dreamily swooned. “All this time, I thought he was one of those one note sort of lovers, and yet he never ceases to amaze me. He always seems to know exactly what to say whenever he and I are together. Pardon the cliché, but it’s just magical, our time together.”

“Isn’t it always?” said Rose, carefully brushing the shimmery gold color onto Parvati’s delicate fingernails. There was not a hint of cynicism in her voice. “But I suppose none of that matters as long as you’re happy. You are happy with Dean, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes,” replied Parvati, not attempting to hide her blush. “I hardly thought I could be this happy with a boy, but I’m glad I was wrong.”

“Yes,” Rose smiled. “It goes to show you that love will often come out of nowhere to nip you when you least expect it.”

“That’s what you think, I prefer to think of it as fate,” said Lavender.  She was stretched out on her bed with her bare feet hovering above her, just waiting for the pink polish on her toes to dry. “The longer I’m with Justin, the more I’m convinced we were always meant to be together. Everyone has that special someone that was made especially for them.”

“Yeah, and they can prove to be just as unlikely.” With all this talk of lovers, Rose let her mind drift to her own. She could just feel the tingling sensation in her fingers and toes when she thought of Severus. It was good that she was sitting down because her legs were turning to jelly at the memory of her nights with him, and the incredible sex they had in their dark lair. The flutters in her stomach helped to tug her lips into another subtle grin. “You know, you might have a point, Lavender.”

“Forgive me for noticing, Rose, but you seem so much happier lately.”

Rose snapped her head up at Lavender. “What?!”

“Since we returned from holiday, you’ve been so blissful.”

“I hardly considered myself glum before the holiday.” Rose tried to focus on Parvati’s nails.

“She’s right, Rose,” Hermione’s voice made Rose jump and catch Parvati’s knuckle with polish. She looked over her shoulder at the Head Girl standing in the doorway. “You’ve been in a far more cheerful mood in the last couple of weeks than we’ve seen you in a while.”

Realizing that she was still smiling, Rose gave up the fight with a soft chuckle. “Maybe I am, but last I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”

“So what gives?” Lavender pressed with a delightfully hitched tone. She swung her legs and body over to sit at the edge of her bed. “What happened over the break that made you so happy?”

“I just had a very good holiday, that’s all,” said Rose, but Lavender just giggled. “Obviously really good if you come back all smiles and sighs. Come on, Rose. You can tell us.”

“There is nothing to tell, Lav,” Rose persisted through her grin.

“I don’t know,” Lavender shook her head. “A look like that tells me that there’s quite a lot to tell.”

“I agree,” said Parvati. “There’s something you’re not telling us, Rose.”

“Ooh, you two are a piece of work,” Rose sniggered. “If I had something to tell you guys, you would know it already.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that you kept a secret from people,” Hermione mentioned with a deliberately hapless look.

“Whose side are you on, Hermione?!” snapped Rose. She actually wanted to scold Hermione for saying something like that in front of Parvati and Lavender. When it came to her biggest secrets, that being Dante and Snape (well, what Hermione knew about Snape), those two were not supposed to have the slightest clue, and saying something like that was spreading blood in shark infested water. Thankfully, they both seemed to be too focused on the secret at hand.

“Oh come on, Rose,” Lavender pleaded in a more childish voice. “We’re all friends here. Whatever you have to say will be safe with us.”

Rose briefly looked back at Hermione to get a glimpse of her reaction to the thought of being friends with Lavender before looking back at the perky blonde. “What do you think it is I have to say, Lav?”

“Well, the only time I’ve seen girls that happy is when they have a new man in their life.”

Suddenly, the nail brush stilled as Rose froze in place. Already, she could feel the panic starting to rush through her. It couldn’t be that obvious! They couldn’t possibly know already that she had lost herself to love! They couldn’t tell when it was Dante she was pining for, what was so different this time? All Rose could really hope for was that none of the girls could somehow sense that she was no longer a virgin.

The extended silence evidently alerted Lavender that she was onto something. Her eyes popped open, and Rose could see the twinkle in the blue color. “Oh my god, I’m right, aren’t I? You met someone!” Lavender leapt up and shuffled across the floor, still minding her wet toenails. “You have a man, admit it!”

Rose looked up at Lavender, seeing the bubbling delight just beneath the surface. There was no way she could lie to her, Parvati, and Hermione, not when the change in her demeanor was so clear to them. She couldn’t talk her way out of it with such obvious happiness. She had to say something, but what? She had to let her friends know that they were right that she had a guy in her life, but not that she was already in a relationship with said guy, that they had already made love several times, and especially the fact that he was Severus Snape. She decided that the best course of action was to continue with the blissful unawareness to her love life that Lavender had often exhibited. Thinking of all the failed love affairs that only she knew of, Rose let out a short sigh. “About time, huh?”

Lavender squealed with delight, now joined by Parvati. There was even a high giggle from Hermione, much to Rose’s surprise. She suddenly found her arms glued to the side of her body as Lavender encased her in a tight hug. “Oh Rose, why didn’t you say so?! You must tell us everything! What’s his name? What is he like? What are his hobbies? What is his astrology sign?”

“Lavender, slow down!” Rose nearly shouted, pulling herself out of the blonde witch’s grasp. “Give me a chance to take a breath, will you?”

“Sorry Rose, but this is so exciting! You finally have a boyfriend!”

“I never said he was my boyfriend.” Rose pointed a thin finger and unpolished nail at Lavender’s face, which was much too close for comfort. “And even so, he’s not the first to have that title tagged onto him.”

“He’s still a new man,” said Parvati, blowing on her nails. “It doesn’t matter how many boys you’ve dated, that’s still plenty to be excited about.”

“If you say so,” said Rose as she shook her head with a smirk. She inserted the nail brush back into the gold polish and twisted the bottle closed; there would be no more beauty treatments that afternoon now that the pixie was out of the cage.

“Alright, so tell us!” demanded Lavender. “Give us all the details.” She propped herself up against the footboard of her bed.

“Where do you want me to start?” asked Rose, still a bit hesitant.

“With the obvious question, of course,” said Hermione as she finally stepped inside and sat down at Lavender’s vanity.  “Who is he? Do we know him?”

Rose promptly started shaking her head. “You don’t know him, none of you do.”

“Ah, so he’s a Muggle.” Lavender pointed at Rose with a smile that suggested she had just read Rose’s mind, but the ginger-haired witch shook her head again. “Did I say he was a Muggle? I don’t believe I did. Honestly, just because you don’t know him does not automatically make a man a Muggle!”

“So he’s a wizard?” asked Parvati. Rose laughed at the bluntness of the question. “Yes, of course he’s a wizard!”

“Ooh, what’s his name? What’s his name?” said Lavender, gripping the nearest bedpost.

Rose faltered for a split second, pushing the image of her darling Potions master back down into the depths of her mind. “I’d rather not say just yet.”

“Why not?” Hermione inquired with a suspiciously curious look. “Is he a student?”

“I’d rather not say that either,” said Rose. “He has connections to the school, that’s how we knew of each other. But I don’t want to say which house he’s part of.”

“Oh come on, Rose, throw us a bone here!” Lavender actually threw her arms up in her frustration. Rose giggled slightly, but then she thought hard to come up with a suitable excuse for her prudence. What would Severus say if he were in her place, if he wanted a reason to dismiss information?

“Believe me girls, it isn’t that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that he’s a very private bloke, and he doesn’t like his life being thrown out there for everyone to see. I want to respect his wishes for the time being. Besides, it’s still pretty early for us. We’re still getting to know each other.”

“So, you won’t tell us who he is,” grumbled Lavender, and Rose gave her an affirmative shake of the head. “Well, at least tell us a bit about him. Is he around our age?”

Rose pondered the question; a twenty year gap was a doozy for most people, but physical age and emotional chemistry were really two completely different things in the long run. “Yeah, you can say that.”

“What is his blood-status?” asked Parvati. “Is he a pure-blood, Muggle-born?”

“He’s half-blood,” said Rose. “He’s like me; he comes from a mixed household. But honestly girls, that doesn’t make a shred of difference to me. I’ve gone on dates with other wizards, and yet I’ve also been involved with Muggles. A man is a man, no matter how magical he is.”

“How did it start?” Hermione asked, leaning her elbow on the surface of the vanity. “How did you two meet?”

“It was during the Christmas holiday,” said Rose. Already, her imagination was working into overdrive to create the story she would tell her friends. “I had to make a run to Diagon Alley after Boxing Day to refresh my supply of ink and potions ingredients. He happened to be in the apothecary when I walked in. We got to talking while we shopped, and he invited me to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. And – as Lavender here would undoubtedly put it – that’s when the magic happened.”

“Aww!” the aforementioned blonde witch squealed. “Rose, that is so sweet.”

Rose mentally patted herself on the back for a lie well-told before turning to Lavender with a smirk. “As I said to Parvati, life just sometimes sneaks up on you.”

“Is he a romantic guy?”

“He’s had his moments,” said Rose, now smiling to herself. Oh, he had his moments alright! A part of her wished that she was able to voice her suitor’s identity just to see the looks on the other girls’ faces. They would never be able to comprehend the idea of their Professor Snape being anything but a vile, vindictive bastard, much less a passionate, terrifically romantic lover.

“But does he treat you well?” Hermione asked, attracting Rose’s attention to the other side of the room. The look on her face was that of subdued concern. Rose sighed at her and nodded lightly. “Not to worry, Hermione. He treats me very well. He’s a perfect gentleman.”

“The opposite of Thomas Tiggins, right?” said Parvati. Rose looked puzzled for a moment, but once she remembered the cheating, double-crossing Ravenclaw that almost ruined her fourth year, she playfully snarled through clenched teeth. “Please, he and Tiggins are in two completely different leagues.”

“What sort of interests does he have?” asked Lavender.

“A little of this, a little of that,” Rose shrugged. “He’s quite proficient in most fields of magical study, so I suppose you could call him an intellectual. He’s actually more interested in what I have to say. We have some invigorating conversations, that’s for sure. But then, our conversations don’t have to be serious debates for us to enjoy them.”

“You just enjoy spending time together,” Hermione said, thoroughly finishing Rose’s thought. She paused for a moment, but then her head suddenly jerked when she realized something. “Wait a second, how often do you two see each other?”

Rose looked at her, her face devoid of any obvious emotion. She vaguely wondered if Hermione was trying to make a connection to her late evening disappearing act, which was rather likely. But Rose just took a short breath and tried to give the most ambiguous answer she could think of. After all, not one of her housemates was with her twenty-four hours a day. “I see him whenever I can.”

Lavender let out a high, playful giggle. “Well, that certainly explains the silly look on her face when she sits down at supper. Been sneaking out to the grounds for a little _alone time_ , have you Rose?”

“Nonsense,” Hermione teased. “Rose wouldn’t go all the way yet.”

_‘Ooh, you have no idea how far I would go,’_ Rose mused to herself, trying not to think of the things she and Severus did to each other after dark, if only for fear of any involuntary expressions. Although, that was probably useless judging by the fit of giggles her friends were falling into. “We’re taking it very slow.”

“Rose,” Parvati spoke up, drawing Rose’s attention back. She looked at her with an almost impish look before asking what was likely the most apparent question left unsaid. “Are you happy?”

After asking that question so many times to so many people before her, Rose was silently crying out to finally be the one to say, _“Yes, yes, yes!!”_ But given the circumstances of both her secret affair and the little web of fabrications she had just woven in that dormitory, she had to restrain herself. She had to go by what these three young witches had been told. But what could she say if not that she had found the love of her life after years of heartbreak?

“I am satisfied with where I am now.” In spite of herself, Rose let out a short chuckle. She tried to hide the deepening blush behind her hand.

“Oh Rose, that is so wonderful!” cried Lavender. She forcibly pulled Rose up out of her chair, tugged her over to her poster bed, and then tackled her onto the mattress in a strong embrace. “I’m so happy for you to have a man, finally. Bugger the fact that we have no clue what his name is! I’m happy knowing that he makes you happy.”

“Cut it out, you hopeless romantic!” Rose laughed, pulling herself out of Lavender’s grasp to sit up on the bed. She looked across the way at a giggle-consumed Hermione. “No need to make such a fuss of this.”

“Au contraire,” said Lavender, cocking a fair brow as she too sat up. “You can call me hasty and lovesick all you want, but I have a strong feeling that this relationship will end up being more than you realize.”

“Are you suggesting that she might have met her soul-mate?” Hermione asked with a great deal of skepticism.

“She very well could have,” replied Lavender. “There’s someone out there for everyone, and it’s my belief that we have to treat every relationship like they’re the one. Besides, we’ve all seen how happy this guy has made Rose. I have to say it takes someone very special to do that.” She touched Rose’s shoulder as she brought a finger up to her lips to hush them. “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of the bells of joy chiming for the sweet happiness of new-found love.”

Rose had to do what she could not to vomit at such pure fluff, and a quick glance showed that Hermione was doing much the same thing. Instead she cleared her throat to show her discontent. “Aww Lav, no one said anything about love.”

“No one had to say anything,” said Lavender. “I can see it in your eyes that this isn’t just any old fling. You don’t get into any old flings. This boy means more to you than you’re letting on, doesn’t he?”

Rose shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps…how can you tell, Lav?”

“Does your heart race when you think of him? Do you feel feverish when you’re not ill? Does he make your head spin from the constant pining?”

Rose debated whether another lie was necessary. But she realized that because she considered Lavender a good friend, there came a time to simply be open and honest, however limited that might have been. And of the answers to those questions, she was honest, certain, and sincere. “Yes.”

“Then you shouldn’t have to contemplate anything. We know love when it happens, so we ought to just let it happen.”

“We don’t always fall in love with what’s right for us,” Rose mentioned, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was Hermione’s influence wafting over to her. Lavender gave her a rather dubious look. “Do you feel that this boy is wrong for you?”

“Be serious,” demanded Rose, but Lavender countered back quickly. “I am being serious. Is there anything about him that you feel might hinder your relationship?”

Oh, that was a trick question. There were many things that were allegedly wrong with her relationship, but none of it had an effect on Rose. It had nothing to do with Severus himself, just the circumstances that brought them together. The only thing that was standing in Rose’s way of a blissful, care-free life with Severus was just some bad timing. So in her continuing efforts to be sincere, she shook her head at Lavender.

“Take my advice, Rose,” said Lavender. “Live for the day with this boy. You’ve waited a long time to meet someone special, and you deserve to have a man who loves you for who you are. We might not have met him, but we know that he had to have looked deep inside of you to see what a great person you are. If he treats you as well as you say he does, then you are the luckiest woman on the face of the earth. You know something, today could be the start of something truly amazing. Trust me when I say this. Years from now, when you are walking down that church aisle towards him, you will look back on this day, and you will want to cry tears of joy.”

“Alright, that’s it,” said Hermione, rising from the vanity. “She’s only just started seeing the guy, let’s not jump right to the wedding! Let’s go, Rose. I have to catch up on some Ancient Runes research, and you still need to finish that Herbology essay.” Rose rolled her eyes at Hermione’s attempt to play nanny, but she did get to her feet, and she said her goodbyes to Lavender and Parvati, promising to talk to them at a later time. She then followed the Head Girl further up the winding staircase to their room.

“So will you tell me his name now that we’re free of those bloodthirsty gossip animals?” Hermione asked as she closed the door behind her. Rose was on her knees before her trunk, searching for a decent book to lean her unfinished essay roll on. She turned her head to Hermione and shot a look at her bushy brunette friend.

“Be nice, Hermione,” she warned. “And I told you already, I want to keep this private for now.”

“You won’t even tell me? Rose, you know I wouldn’t tell a soul about anything even if I was under torture. What makes you think that it’s not okay to tell me? Unless you haven’t actually met anyone and you were just letting Lavender have her fun?”

“Hermione, be serious,” said Rose, quite sternly. “Why would I do something like that? We both know how flighty Lavender gets when she smells love in the air.”

“So you really do have someone in your life?” Hermione crossed the room to kneel down beside Rose. The ginger witch gave her a short, but still endearing look before rising to her feet, her Transfigurations book in hand. “Yes…I do. But understand me, Hermione. It’s still very early and I don’t want to rush anything. I’m not taking any chances this time.”

“I can imagine,” said Hermione. “And with friends like Lavender and Parvati, I can understand why you would want to keep him hidden away. They would be all over him like he was part of the royal family.”

“True,” Rose nodded. “And like I said, he’s a pretty humble guy.” She then unrolled the long parchment and set herself to finishing her essay. She hoped that Hermione would to what she did best and insert her nose into a book because she was just tired of this conversation. She had enough of lying and making up stories about a young man that did not exist. She might have given the girls an interesting picture of what she knew to be a more subdued, slightly more pleasant-sounding Severus, but that was as far as she was willing to go. Now she just wanted to get on with her day. However, she occasionally glanced up to notice Hermione watching her out of the corner of her brown eye. Rose tried her best to ignore that, trying instead to focus on her work.

“So, do you think that anything could come from this?” Hermione asked after a long stretch of silence. Rose glanced to the side to look her in the eye. “I don’t know, I’m just taking it one step at a time. I’m just enjoying my time with him, for now anyway.”

“You must have some feelings for him though,” said Hermione, moving back to her bed. “What Lavender and I said back there was true. The last couple of weeks have been the happiest we have ever seen you, Rose.”

“Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve had reason to happy,” said Rose. And it was the truth too. Frankly, she had been seeing Severus for a little over a month, and already, she felt happier than she had any other time of her life.

“Forgive me for asking, Rose, but what ever happened with your crush on Professor Snape? Before Christmas, you were almost in tears over him. Have you gotten over those feelings now that you have met someone else?”

And just like that, Rose’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. She had forgotten that in her desire to keep her relationship a secret, she had not spoken to Hermione about Severus, at least not as much as she used to. She had thought that it was in wisdom, but now Rose regretted giving herself one more thing to beat around the bush with. But just because this lie was the closest to home, that didn’t mean that Rose was not willing to go out on that limb.

“My feelings for Snape haven’t changed,” she simply said.

“Really?” Hermione asked with raised eyebrows. “I would have thought that meeting a new guy would have made you forget those feelings, or at least dull them down a little.”

Rose suddenly paused and glared out of the corner of her blue eye. “What are you saying?” she asked. “Are you suggesting that I can just turn those feelings off? Are you trying to tell me how I should feel about any one particular person?”

“Of course not!” denied Hermione. “I merely thought that now that you have someone else in your life, then maybe you wouldn’t feel as strongly as you did before, especially if Lavender is right about this guy turning out to be more than we think.”

Rose tossed her essay to the side and rubbed a hand down her face. “Hermione, I don’t want to be nasty, especially to you. But it’s just really complicated right now, and I don’t need you, Lavender, or anyone else telling me what I should be thinking or feeling.” Hermione paused to think about that for a moment, and she soon nodded her head with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” she said. “You’re right, you don’t need me commenting on your love life. I was just trying to help. Honestly speaking, I can’t imagine what must be going on in your mind right now.”

“More than I could possibly explain,” Rose mumbled as she shook her head.

“I’ll bet. It must be difficult for you to be going on a date with someone new so soon after losing Dante.”

Rose’s eyes popped open at the mention of her late friend’s name. It was true that she had a great deal on her mind in recent weeks, but for the first time since that horrible night in May, Dante had been among the farthest from her thoughts. All the months of sorrow seemed to have been erased by a few short weeks with Severus. And in those few short weeks, Rose had come to find a greater love than she had ever known in her life, more than she had felt for anyone else. But even with that, the flutters that Severus stirred up could not suppress the ache she felt when she thought of the younger Slytherin. Rose folded her hands together and lifted them to rest her chin on her knuckles.

“They always say that time heals,” she said to Hermione. “Whoever said that obvious hadn’t lost anyone dear to them. Dante will always have a special place in my heart, and no other man will be able to replace him, but I can’t just keep dragging my feet through the sand. I need to move on sometime, so why not now? You did say it would be good for me.”

“I did say that,” replied Hermione. “Although I can’t imagine you falling for someone else quickly. Your feelings for Dante were just too strong. Do you remember…?”

“Remember what?” asked Rose.

“The moment you first realized you loved him,” Hermione finished. “Do you remember what that was like?”

Rose pressed her lips to her fingers, closing her eyes as she let out a soft sigh. That was certainly a difficult memory to look back on, but time had indeed dulled that pain. She had never told that story to anyone, so she understood Hermione’s curiosity, and for the while, she was willing to share that personal moment with her. She tilted her head to the side and rested on her knuckles.

“It was our fifth year,” she began. “I was reading in one of the corridors when that toad-faced bitch just came out of nowhere.”

**_~Flashback~_ **

_“Miss Beckett,” Umbridge stated in her self-dignified, overly pompous, sickeningly phony voice. As ever, she stood in perfect posture, a clipboard as her accessory. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I could not help but notice the title of your book.”_

_Rose, who was seated on the floor in the Charms corridor, looked down at the sizable book propped up against her knees. She was halfway through_ A History of Muggle Politics: From Monarchy to Anarchy. _She had tried to mind her own business in the library, but some power-drunk harassment from Parkinson and the Slytherin prefects drove her to seek some seclusion. But if she had known that the Minister’s favorite crony would be on patrol, she might have rethought her choice of location._

_“Yes ma’am?” she carefully muttered. She had long since stopped referring to Umbridge as professor outside of class, but her fear of her hand being scarred again still kept her in line._

_“If memory serves me correctly, the study of politics is not taught in Muggle Studies until students reach their seventh year. What are you doing reading that book at this time?”_

_“I was curious about the subject, and I checked the book out of the library for light reading.”_

_Umbridge wrinkled her eyebrows as she glanced down at her clipboard. “Interesting…” she said. “And just why are you reading in the middle of the hall and not in the library or your common room?”_

_“I find it easier to concentrate out here,” Rose explained. She thought that a simple explanation would satisfy the evil bitch, but Umbridge didn’t seem too convinced. She seemed to stand straighter and her foot started to tap on the stone floor._

_“Is that so? Well, I find it most intriguing that a young Fifth year such as yourself would have interest in politics of any sort, much less Muggle politics. If anything, you should be looking into the past workings of our own Ministry.”_

_Rose swallowed her growing nerves. “I don’t mean any harm.”_

_“Oh, Miss Beckett, I think you do.” Suddenly, Umbridge’s tone hardened and she leaned down to glare into Rose’s eyes, venom oozing from her very pupils. “I don’t believe there is one wizard in this world who would see you reading that book and have no reason to be suspicious. How is anyone to know that you are not planning to use information found in those pages to aid in an act of rebellion against the Ministry?”_

_Gobsmacked, Rose almost dropped the book in question as she struggled to get out a response. “Act of rebellion?! I’m not –,”_

_“Allow me to make myself clear, dearie,” continued Umbridge. “The Ministry takes every act of treason very seriously, and the age of the perpetrator will not be taken into account. I have heard talk from some of your classmates of your troublemaking ways, and I have seen enough of it for myself. Unless you would like to run the risk of expulsion from this school, and potentially an arrest, I suggest you halt your antics immediately and name any coconspirators you may have.”_

_Rose could feel her panic rising, not to mention her confusion. Where had Umbridge gotten an idea like that? With all the prying she had done in the last couple of months, surely she had heard of Rose’s knack for Muggle Studies. All she did was pursuing an interest of hers, and she was being accused of treason! Rose had already been subjected to torture for minor mishaps with Parkinson, though the presence of Dumbledore and McGonagall kept a measure of safety. The last thing she wanted was to be the first victim of Umbridge’s total dictatorship._

_But just when she thought she had been backed into a corner, she looked to her left and saw Dante walking towards her and Umbridge. There was a look of urgency etched into his fair face, though he hid it well with a cool demeanor. In spite of her current situation, she almost instantly felt her tension start to ebb away. Dante had always been there to back her up when she needed him, and he always seemed to know when he was needed. Why else would he appear so suddenly? And the quiet strength he exuded brought back all the confidence she could possess. Inside, Rose felt that peculiar flutter that always seemed to make her fingers tingly._

_Actually, she had being feeling that flutter quite a lot recently…_

_Dante instantly noticed their Ministry spy for a professor, and he spoke in a calm tone. “Rose, I’ve been looking all over for yo – oh, good day Professor Umbridge. To what do I owe this pleasure?”_

_“Mister Macleod,” said Umbridge, standing straight again and her voice softening at the young man’s presence. She always had appeared to have a preference for Slytherin house, and Dante was no exception. “I was making an inquiry into Miss Beckett’s reading material. You would not happen to have any knowledge of this, would you?”_

_“Ah, that’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Dante replied, not giving the old toad a chance to finish her thought. “Rose and I are working together on an assignment for History of Magic. We’re writing about different forms of government compared to the Ministry of Magic, and we’re using examples of Muggle politics to show how ours are better. I tend to get bored to tears with anything to do with Muggles, so I left that up to Rose here.”_

_Umbridge seemed to ponder that for a moment, her nails rapping at the back of her clipboard. But after what felt like an eternity, she curtly – albeit grudgingly – nodded her head. “Very well Mister Macleod. Just to be sure however, I will be paying a visit to Professor Binns and confirming the existence of such an assignment.” Evidently, she thought that to be enough of a warning because she started right back down the hall. Once the sound of her short, quick footsteps faded into silence, both the Gryffindor and the Slytherin let out a tremendous sigh of relief._

_“Oh Merlin, that was close!” Rose gasped, closing her book. “I really owe you one, Dante.”_

_“Don’t mention it,” said Dante with a small smile. “I guess I figured that if you were going to be unlawfully expelled, then I might as well go with you.” He held out a hand to help Rose off the floor. Rose took it with a smile of her own, and the two of them started down the hall together, Dante guiding Rose with a gentle hand on her back._

_“I suppose that means we have to change the topic of our essay,” said Rose._

_Dante let out a short laugh. “Come on, with your knowledge of Muggles, we’ll be fine.”_

_“Oh yes, like your family’s history in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has nothing to do with it.”_

_“My parents might be members of council, but that doesn’t mean they get to handle the exciting stuff.” Dante flashed his white smile at her, the light flooding in through the windows reflecting off his brilliant blue eyes. He ran his fingers his thick brown hair as they turned a corner to start down the stairwell. “We all know how our government works. What will make that paper great is detailed research into Muggle customs, and there’s no one better for that than you.”_

_Rose tried to stop her cheeks from flushing a light shade of pink. Dante had his own skills and knowledge, and yet when the two of them collaborated on assignments, he always gave the credit to her. It was as though he thought himself a bumbling idiot when faced with her particular talents. He of course would have no reason to think such madness; Dante was one of the wittiest people Rose had ever met. Dante flipped the ends of his hair over his forehead, and Rose wondered to herself if the boy knew how handsome he was without the slightest attempt at it. She had a little trouble keeping her eyes on her feet as she descended those steps._

_“So what happened to the library?” asked Dante. “How did you end up in the Charms corridor?”_

_“Parkinson forced me out,” Rose explained. “Apparently, it’s getting to the point where our houses can’t even read books within fifty feet of each other.”_

_Dante let out what sounded like a snarl. “I tell you, I’ve had it up to here with her. I don’t like it when she pushes anyone around, but when she does it to you, it drives me mad! It’s girls like her that give Slytherin house a bad name.”_

_“Some might suggest that you’re doing that by having this conversation,” said Rose. And it was true. With tensions growing throughout the Wizarding world, hostilities between Hogwarts houses were increasing as well. Because of this, Dante was beginning to find himself as much of a victim of his belligerent housemates as anyone else. His Slytherin status offered some amount of protection, but once he stood up and defended Rose and their other friends from heinous insults, those insults would start to turn on him._

_But Dante never let it bother him, at least not from what Rose could see. After every nasty encounter, he would brush the slurs off his shoulder and then carry on with his day with his friends. He shook his head at the thought. “Well, whoever says that obviously has no idea how brilliant you are. And Natasha and Jonny are great to have around as well. Those two come in terrifically handy when you’re in a pinch. Honestly, you can’t get any social variety if you don’t extend outside your own house.”_

_“Dante, you’re a saint,” Rose sighed with a smirk._

_“Oh, don’t saddle me with a title like that. That’s way too much pressure!”_

_The two friends reached the ground floor, and Dante led the way out to the deserted courtyard where their skeletal, leaf-bare dogwood tree stood like a sentinel. He brushed off the stone bench at its base before allowing Rose to sit down first. There was a noticeable chill in the winter air, so Dante settled down beside the redheaded witch, letting her huddle into his side for warmth._

_“Can I ask you something?” asked Rose, tucking her hands inside her robes and balancing her book on her knees. Dante smirked at her. “We’ve been friends for nearly five years, you don’t need to ask permission anymore.”_

_“Why do you keep sticking up for me? I heard what they’ve been saying about you lately, Malfoy and the others I mean. They were saying that your closeness to me is making you a blood-traitor. Why would you want to set yourself up for that criticism? Your life would be so much easier if didn’t keep throwing yourself between me and your house.”_

_“It’s because I think you deserve better than that,” said Dante. “Rose, I see every day what my idiot housemates make you go through. Parkinson and Malfoy ridicule you for absolutely reason. I mean, Parkinson comes at you with some of the most baseless claims I’ve ever heard! I know you better than anyone in this castle, and I know those remarks couldn’t be any more wrong. All I want is for you get the respect and dignity that I know you deserve.”_

_“I feel respected,” Rose commented. “Just not by the Slytherins…well, except you.”_

_Dante mulled that over for a moment, twisting the silver ring bearing the Slytherin crest he wore on his left hand. It was a habit of his in times of pondering. “In case it’s missed you, I’m the only one that who has more than half a brain cell. Really Rose, I’m proud to be a Slytherin, but I would much rather have friends based on their qualities. I am much happier being around you, Natasha, and Jonny, and I won’t let any friend of mine be disrespected.”_

_Rose felt an ache in her chest as she gazed at Dante from the side. How was it that she was the one to have their house placement questioned from time to time? With such enduring loyalty, Dante just did not belong in Hogwarts’ most self-righteous house. He would have done much better if he were a Gryffindor alongside herself. At least then, his good name would not have to be smeared by Slytherin’s bias intimidation._

_“It’s still not worth getting yourself expelled by Umbridge,” she said. “I swear, she has it out for me. She’s been looking for another reason to punish me since this.” Rose held up her hand to display the cryptic words carved into the back._ ‘I must not start fights,’ _Dante read, but he just shook his head._

_“So the woman’s a megalomaniac with a fondness for medieval torture. What are you trying to say?”_

_“What I’m saying that I don’t want to see you get caught up in anything because of me. Listen Dante, I know you mean well, but what’s stopping Parkinson and the others from taking the piss out of me? They’re going to do it anyway, no matter what we do. And you know, maybe I’m fine with that. I’m not the greatest witch to come through Hogwarts. Maybe they have some merit.”_

_Dante promptly scoffed at her. “Rose, will you just listen to yourself?! That is no way to talk about yourself! You are worth far more than that, and you know it.”_

_“Then why won’t they stop?” Rose asked firmly. “Why won’t Parkinson and Malfoy leave me alone? Why won’t Snape give me the credit I deserve in class?”_

_“Merlin knows,” said Dante, tossing a hand into the air. “But just because they won’t stop doesn’t mean that they have the right. Rose, my parents are Ministry officials, so I’ve met a great deal of people. But in my opinion, none of them could come close to you. You are a gifted potioneer, and you are quick with a charm. When it comes to Muggle relations, you are the most accomplished out of anyone I’ve ever met in my life. And if that isn’t enough, no matter what people might say, you are a darling person at heart. You deserve better than to be criticized the way you are, and you deserve better than to have a wizard father who simply ignores you and your talents. If it’s up to me as your friend to make sure that happens, then I will die on that hill.”_

_Rose looked up at Dante, and she latched onto his bright eyes that were so full of compassion. No one had ever said such things to her, declared their devotion to her in such a heartfelt way. Dante might have been setting himself up for trouble down the road, but he was willing to do it for her. Come hell or high water, he was standing by her. And that devotion sent a tingling through Rose’s fingers. She felt her heart pounding against her breastbone, and the color crept into her already rosy cheeks._

_She had never felt a stronger urge to throw her arms around Dante and hold him as tightly as she could._

_Rose stood to get the blood flowing through her body again, hopefully making those sensations go away. She walked across the courtyard to stare out across the school grounds, but she felt Dante come up behind her and wrap an arm around her shoulder, laxly letting his hand dangle there. There was an intense flutter in Rose’s stomach, and she shifted her weight to ease more into his side. It felt so natural to be at his side, to have his hands on her. It was as though there was no better place for Rose to be than with Dante. Her problems did not exist as long as he was around, and they would never trouble her with him there._

_“Hey Beckett,” Malfoy sneered as he suddenly appeared from inside the halls. But before he could get out any insult that he might have had, Dante tilted his head over his shoulder and sneered right back. “Sod off, Malfoy! Last I checked, Umbridge hasn’t prohibited standing yet!”_

_Remarkably, that seemed to be enough to knock Malfoy off his kilter. He shot a nasty, menacing glare at his fellow Slytherin, and he stalked back inside the castle to find his equally nasty comrades. Dante turned back to Rose with a smug look, and he hugged her shoulders tight. Rose let out an almost silent sigh as she rested her head against his broad torso._

**_~End Flashback~_ **

“That is so sweet, Rose,” Hermione crooned, sitting just at the edge of her bed with a pillow in her lap.

“He made me feel safe,” Rose mused aloud, her voice as distant as her memory. “He made me feel strong. I felt as though I could take on the world as long as he was beside me. With everything I have been through, he made everything right again.”

“You felt as though he completed you, didn’t you?”

Rose nodded. “I did, at least I did at the time. I had never felt anything like that before, so I thought that no one else could do that to me.”

“But someone else has,” mentioned Hermione. She studied Rose’s forlorn face for a moment before the thought found its way to words. “It scares you to be attracted to someone else, doesn’t it?” Rose shifted her eyes between Hermione and the floor before breathing a long sigh.

“I still have trouble believing that anyone could manage to take his place like that,” she said.

Hermione tossed her pillow aside and crossed the room to sit on Rose’s bed beside her. The Head Girl reached out to gently hug Rose. “Oh Rose, no one will take Dante’s place. Every love is different, and it can never be replicated. The love you feel for any other man is because you love him for who he is, which you can never predict. So it’s more like filling the void that Dante left. Judging by how he was in life, I think he would want you to be happy.”

“He would,” said Rose, wrapping a lithe arm around Hermione’s waist. “If he could hear me now, he would be encouraging me to get on with my life. I think he would also be laughing about me and Snape. You know, I spoke with Snape about Dante.”

“You did?” gasped Hermione, slightly amazed that Rose had finally taken her advice.

“Yeah,” Rose nodded. “And you know what he said? He said that Dante was always there for me in life, and now he’s with me wherever I go. It was the best thing anyone had ever said about him.”

“That’s because it’s true,” said Hermione. “He’ll always be looking out for you, whether you realize it or not. Dante cared for you so much, I doubt even death could make him abandon you.”

“He’d be happy I found a new man,” Rose said, more to herself. Deep down, she hoped that Dante would have seen her and Severus and given them his blessing.

Hermione curtly nodded her head. “Exactly. Don’t be afraid to venture into a new relationship. Just let it run its course and see what happens. And just so you know, I really do hope you found something special in this guy. You’ve waited long enough to find someone special.” Rose offered a warm smile and embraced her friend earnestly.

The two girls had gone back to sitting on their separate beds and were about to return to their assignments when Hermione spoke up again. “Say, do you think I will get to meet this guy sometime?”

Rose thought about that for a moment, wanting to give a positive response that would still mask her secret. Fingering the locket hanging at her breast, she looked to Hermione with a lax look of assurance. “Maybe…one day maybe.” And though the likeliness of that prospect was not as tangible as she would like, Rose felt satisfied that she could finally say something to Hermione that was by no means a lie.


	55. What must be said

“Severus, is it just me, or is there something different about you?”

Severus had been trying to mind his own business as he sat in the staffroom during their morning break when Remus raised the question. The DADA professor was seated a few feet away with a newspaper in his lap, nibbling on a crumbly tea pastry. A cane rested at his side, and his face was paled, bearing the dark eye circles that signaled the waning full moon. Severus would have liked to have given Remus a piece of his mind for asking such a stupid question, but he settled on a good roll of his eyes. He didn’t need to go making a scene in the middle of the day for such a miniscule reason, especially when there were other teachers around to act as unsavory witnesses.

Just which ‘something different’ was Remus referring to? As far as Severus was concerned, nearly everything about him was changing these days. He had heard talk that the second trimester was the easiest in most pregnancies, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t take some getting used to in its own right. There was the significant shift in his appetite for one. Severus found that he no longer had to be told to eat at odd times of the day; it just happened on compulsion. It wasn’t uncommon to wander into the Potions classroom and see a discarded apple core in the waste basket. And on Severus’s office desk was usually a plate containing the crumbs of some sort of light snack. Severus tried not to get too particular about his meals, though he was starting to find that he wanted his food prepared in a certain way. Pomona called it making up for a lack of strange cravings, but Severus chalked it up to his particular, persnickety nature as a Potions master having an adverse effect on his palate. Besides, what he ate in the privacy of his quarters was no one else’s business.

He was also starting to really feel the weight of his condition. Bending over was now as good as impossible, and getting in and out chairs was starting to get tricky. It was as though _someone_ was getting in the way each time Severus went to sit down. And though he was nowhere near the size he would be by the spring, Severus already noticed that he was starting to walk more carefully, though that was probably better for him and his unborn baby.

The worst of it however had to be the mood swings, which had returned with a bloody passion in recent days. They had given Severus a hard time in those earlier months, but he had attributed it to the assault of emotions caused by the shock of his pregnancy and a certain red-haired, blue-eyed witch. He thought he would have it easier now that he had resolved much of those issues. But it seemed that a vengeful higher power was not through with him yet. Now his emotions sought to come pouring out of him at the slightest trigger. Just the other day, he was so close to tears after accidently breaking one of his beakers that he had to lock himself away in his office until he could regain control.

_‘Something different…something different indeed.’_

“Well Lupin, if I knew what it was you were blathering about, I could tell you,” said Severus, taking a sip of tea and trying not to draw attention to their discussion. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know,” said Remus, shrugging his shoulders. “There’s something about you that’s different, changed somehow. There’s a kick in your step that I’ve never really noticed before. You just seem in better spirits lately.”

Severus didn’t like the sound of that, but he took in a breath and said, “Perhaps life is starting to look up some.”

“I would say so,” Remus chuckled. “In all these years, I have never seen you so even-tempered outside your classes. It makes me wonder what you did over your holiday.”

“That’s no one’s business,” said Severus. “But for curiosity’s sake, just what do you think I did?”

“Probably much the same you do any other holiday.” Remus polished off the last of his pastry and relaxed back into the sofa. “You took some time away from the world, probably got some of your research finished. Of course, after the last few months, I imagine that was just what you needed. It’s a bit funny, really. If you were any other man, I would have thought you had found yourself a girl or something. I’m only playing though, of course.”

Remus waited for a response, prepared for what could be some potentially acidic language. But after a stretched out silence, he looked over at Severus and saw the faltering expression on his face, as well as the surprised look in his black eyes. Remus suddenly straightened his back and stared at the Potions professor. “I am just playing, right?”

“I never said anything, Remus,” Severus indicated, a certain tension creeping into his deep voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Remus. “Severus, you haven’t met someone, have you?”

“What was that? Severus met someone?”

Both Severus and Remus jumped out of their skins at the sudden appearance of Cassandra, standing behind the sofa with a terrifically eager expression. Grasping his chest, Severus took a few deep breaths to help slow his pulse again. “Good lord, woman! You’re going to give someone a heart attack one of these days!”

“What he means to say is that you shouldn’t sneak up on people, Cassie,” said Remus as he used his wand to syphon his spilled tea from the _Prophet’s_ politics section.

“Sorry boys, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The Muggle Studies teacher came around the side of the sofa and sat down beside Remus. “But did I hear correctly? Has Severus got himself a lady and didn’t tell anyone?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Severus repeated. Remus cocked a dusty eyebrow at him. “So you didn’t?”

“I didn’t say that either, Remus. You have no base to your claims.”

“Ah, ah, you won’t deny it! That means you do!” Cassandra squeaked, pointing a dainty finger at Severus. She bopped slightly in her seat and grasped excitedly at Remus’s shoulder. Severus rolled his eyes dramatically at her display of perky delight.

“Get a hold of yourself, Cassandra,” he ground out. “How old are you, sixteen?”

“Hold on a second, Severus,” said Pomona, who was listening from the table across the room. “I didn’t hear you deny anything either. And I agree with Remus; you’ve been a little too laidback for my liking. Eighteen years, and you’re finally something close to agreeable! What have you been hiding from us?”

“There is nothing to hide,” said Severus. Though Severus knew he was the only one in the room with a talent for Legilimency, he still did what he could to rid his mind of Rose. “I am merely taking a more easygoing approach to life.”

“I should say so!” the old witch chuckled. “I can’t think of anything to make life more easygoing than a little romantic fling.”

“Who’s having a romantic fling?” Filius chirped as he shuffled into the staffroom. Severus jerked his head around at yet another entering professor and growled, “Argh, when does it end?”

Pomona shook her head and ignored the comment. “It seems that Severus might be having a little affair right under our noses.”

Filius walked up to Severus and studied his face for a minute or two, making Severus feel like nothing short of a bizarre experiment. The tiny wizard then stroked his chin and nodded. “Well…that certainly makes sense. I knew I had seen that look somewhere before. I’m surprised I didn’t think of that sooner.”

Now Severus was silently cursing himself into the floor. He was aware that he had let himself become more tranquil since he had been with Rose. She had brought a balance to his life that almost eliminated the need to be irate and irritable outside his classroom. But Severus never thought it was that obvious! He should have known that someone on the staff would make the connection sooner or later, especially the women. Rose had already told him of her interesting encounter with Lavender Brown in the Gryffindor dormitories, and it merely confirmed Severus’s suspicions that certain women had a sixth sense that enabled them to tell when someone had just been shagged. He had hoped that this ability faded with age, but judging from his current situation, that was not very likely.

“All of you are jumping to conclusions,” he said. “Since you all seemed to have developed a collective hearing problem, once again I repeat. I have not said anything that gives you any reason to be suspicious of my private life.”

“But Severus, just the fact that you are being so defensive speaks for itself,” Remus calmly explained to him. “Come now, we’re all adults here. There’s no harm in giving us a yes or no.”

The Potions master must have visibly hesitated because Cassandra spoke up again, leaning around Remus to better face him. “Either you give us an answer, or we continue to pester you about what really is on your mind.” A gentle threat though it was, the other professors looked at the younger witch with a mildly and equally appalled expression. Honestly, where did she get the gall to say those sorts of things to Severus?

For the first time in quite some time, Severus felt genuinely trapped. He couldn’t simply deny what they could obviously see, and he couldn’t revert back to his usual excuse and cite his pregnancy as cause, not with Cassandra there to hear. He wondered if it would just be easier if he told them what they wanted to hear, but he did have his own privacy to think about. In any case, all Severus wanted at the end of the day was to get these people off his back, and that called for a certain amount of explaining.

“Alright, so maybe I ventured out to Diagon Alley during the holidays, and maybe I met this Irish witch while I was there. Is that satisfactory enough for you?”

Four pairs of eyebrows met their respective hairlines, and lips twitched into crooked smirks. Cassandra brought a hand up to her mouth, if only to muffle her imminent gasp. It was Remus who got up the courage to let out a chuckle. “Severus, you dog!”

“You didn’t think I had sworn off women for good, did you?” sneered Severus. He leisurely crossed one leg over the other and stared into the fireplace.

“Well, take my wand and call me a Muggle!” Cassandra said through her mischievous grin. “So who’s the lucky lady?”

Pomona caught a snicker in her throat. “I don’t know if lucky is the proper word.”

“Be nice, Pomona,” said Filius, more as a joke than a warning. “I’m sure that Severus can be quite reasonable to someone who meets his fancy.”

“It doesn’t matter, you two!” said Cassandra. She turned back to the Potions professor with bright doe eyes. “So tell us, Severus. What’s her name? When do we get to meet her?”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Severus said, shaking his head. “What goes on in my personal life is my business, and I require absolutely no input on your part.”

“There’s no harm in asking,” said Remus as he shrugged his shoulders. Again, Severus shook his head. “There is if the intent is to invade my privacy.”

Cassandra laughed at that statement. “Good grief, Severus! Has anyone ever told you how paranoid you are?” It was entirely intended as a joke, but what she got for her jesting was a deep snarl at the back of Severus’s throat. Remus turned his head to look at her properly.

“For future references, it would be wise to keep comments like that to yourself,” he said before looking back at Severus. “So how about it, Severus? You won’t give us a name?”

“No Remus, I won’t.”

“Come now, Severus. There is no need to be such a prude,” said Pomona, but Severus cut her off before she could get any further, halting her words with a steady hand. He already had an explanation for this discretion that his colleagues seemed to find so offensive. He also hoped that it was enough to let them put this conversation behind them and carry on with their day.

“For your information, I happen to believe that there is a need for prudence,” he said. “I certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship when I met this woman, and frankly, neither was she. Neither of us have any idea where this will go, if it will even go anywhere, and we are not going to drag other people into whatever unfolds between us. Honestly, I’ve only just met her. There’s no need to go making a huge fuss over what might turn out to be nothing.”

“Sounds to me like you have no plans to introduce her to us,” Filius commented. He reached for his wand and conjured up a modestly comfortable stool to sit on. Severus shifted his eyes away as he said, “One of the things I like about her is that she appreciates the luxuries that privacy offers.”

“Oh, so this is a distance relationship I take it?” said Remus, nodding his head.

“For the while, yes,” said Severus. _‘The distance between the dungeons and Gryffindor tower…’_

“Well,” Pomona smirked as she leaned against the back of the sofa and crossed her arms. “Since it seems we won’t be getting the chance to talk to her ourselves, why don’t you tell us a bit about her? What type of girl is she?”

Severus wrinkled his brow at her. “If I tell you, will you get off my case?” His answer was four nods, some more enthusiastic than others. Severus fell silent for a moment, if only for a short while to collect his thoughts. He knew that a certain element of tact was crucial to getting out of this discussion, but another part of him told that he didn’t have to give his fellow professors an outright fabrication. So what was the right amount of embellishment? How would he sound if he were describing Rose Beckett in ten, maybe fifteen years’ time?

“She is…” he began, hesitating for a split second. “She is a very clever girl, quite confident in her own character. She knows what is good for her, and she doesn’t act unless she is sure of herself. She is also goal-oriented, which I find rather appealing. We have a great deal in common I discovered in terms of our overall interests. She’s a skilled brewer, and she enjoys a fierce debate. But what struck me the most about her was her sheer ability to listen. If there’s anything I can appreciate in someone, it’s the ability to try and understand what someone is trying to say.”

“You really need that in a woman, don’t you?” asked Remus. Severus briefly glanced at him from the side and answered with a short nod.

“Severus,” Filius spoke up again. There was a squeaky hesitance in his voice, though that didn’t mask the irking smile tugging at his lips. “I apologize, but I simply have to ask you, man to man. Is this a good-looking woman you’ve got yourself?”

“I believe so,” said Severus, again avoiding eye contact. “But then, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. However, I have heard loose talk that the witches of Ireland are among the loveliest in the UK. And I must say that after these last few weeks, I can hardly disagree.” In spite of himself, Severus let his mind wander to the image of his little half-Irish lady, and he felt the unintentional smile as it tweaked at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh Severus, I know that look!” exclaimed Cassandra, who again was pointing and gripping at Remus’s robes. “I’ve seen it too many times to be mistaken. You love her, don’t you?!”

Severus immediately turned to her with his hard teacher’s glare that he knew the woman was not immune to yet. “No, I absolutely will not say anything of the sort.”

“Why not?” The Muggle Studies professor spoke in a near whine as she inched closer to the edge of her sofa seat. “Why deny it when it’s so obvious?”

“Why?” Severus cocked a black eyebrow at her. “Because I utterly refuse to give into the cliché practice of verbally acknowledging one’s feelings for another person after a bare few weeks of acquaintance.”

“But people have found their soul-mates in much less time than that,” Remus pointed out, and Pomona nodded her head at that.

“He’s right, Severus,” she said. “Make no mistake, we all know and understand that life has not exactly been kind to you in terms of romance. But perhaps this is a chance for a brand new start after all that. If you love this girl, you should act on it.”

“It is exactly that reason that keeps me from saying it,” Severus grudgingly explained. He finally rose from his chair and started pacing in front of the fire. “You are right. Life hasn’t been kind to me, and I have learned from that. If there was a game or prize for incredibly foolish judgment, I have won that ten times over! As much as I might want to act on certain impulses, I also don’t want to pin anything on this relationship. There are, after all, no guarantees that it will work out. No woman is worth the misery.”

“But what if it does work out?” Pomona challenged. “Come now Severus, quit being so stubborn for just once. Cassandra is right to say that your feelings are pretty obvious the way you’ve been acting lately. I think I speak for everyone else when I say that you’ve got it pretty bad for this woman. You just have to face it like the grown man you are and own up to it.”

“Not a chance,” snarled Severus, glaring at the Herbology professor.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Remus abruptly stood up to take control of the conversation. He had seen just how fragile Severus’s moods had become recently, and he knew that this had to end before it could escalate any further. Gripping the handle of his cane, he tucked his newspaper under his arm and carefully touched Severus’s shoulder. “Come along, Severus. Take a walk with me.”

Severus certainly didn’t like the idea of being ordered around by another professor, but he soon realized that what Remus was doing was giving him the escape he had been searching for. The two of them excused themselves for the afternoon, and they ventured out into the halls together. But while Severus had hoped that the conversation was over, it was only a few minutes before Remus started speaking again.

“Does she at least make you happy?” he asked.

“As happy as I can be,” Severus sighed. “She knows that it isn’t easy for me to be getting involved with someone, and she understands that. She doesn’t mind taking it slow for the time being.”

“She doesn’t know about that, does she?” Remus made a vague gesture toward Severus’s stomach, concealed by robes and charms. But Severus just shook his head. “I’m waiting for the right time to tell her,” he said, giving him the very excuse that kept Rose in the dark for all those weeks before she found out about the baby.

“That’s probably the best idea,” nodded Remus. “But I’m just glad you’re happy. I mean, talk about your baby being a good thing, this is a good thing!”

“As I said before, there are no guarantees,” Severus mused to the open air. Remus let out a soft chuckle. “That is true, but you really shouldn’t have to worry about what could happen. Just take it one day at a time, and enjoy your time with this girl. You’ve been through enough. It’s about time that someone came along, and who knows, she could just be the one.”

“You’re a sentimental fool, Remus, but I still won’t say it.”

“It’s okay to be in love,” said Remus. “I understand the desire to not rush into anything, but you also shouldn’t stop it from happening. And you know what? I think Lily would be happy for you.”

Oh that was their secret weapon, wasn’t it? But as hormonal and lovesick as Severus was at any given time, he would not be falling for that one. He would however take comfort in Remus’s words. If Lily were in a position to see him with Rose, she might very well be happy for them. She would also not question Severus’s repeat refusals to admit anything out loud, unlike _some people_.

**~HP~**

Severus was not exactly looking forward to telling Rose about his lovely new situation with his colleagues, but it was the first thing that he brought up when she floated into his classroom after lunch, under the guise of helping to bottle a large supply of Blood-Replenishing Potions for the hospital wing. The dormitory exchange with the other Seventh year Gryffindor girls had already left Rose a little shaken, suddenly alerting her to the fact that her acting was not as great as she once thought. But with a bunch of gossipy young girls confined together for hours at a time, it was probably to be expected. Neither of them could have predicted the other professors taking Severus’s behavior and making that connection. As much as he did not want to burden her with that added stress, Severus thought that the best thing would be to alert Rose to this new inconvenience. If anything, Severus wanted her to know that if she were ever to hear an asinine rumor about his new Irish girlfriend, it was actually her they were speaking of. Rose told him she was prepared for such a possibility, right along with the idea of answering questions about her new suitor who may or may not be among the student body.

“So what does this mean for us now?” she asked him as she carefully ladled the still warm brew into small bottles.

“It means that we must be more careful from now on,” said Severus. “It was by luck alone that our respective parties bought into the stories we told them. We just have to stay on top of them and make sure that they don’t make any more connections.”

“We should keep pretending to date other people that no one ever sees?” Rose asked in a very dubious tone. “Severus, these people are not exactly stupid. Someone is bound to get suspicious at some point.”

“Then we must do what we can to keep them at bay, whatever that might be. But we should not have to worry about that until the need arises, if it ever will. We are safe for the meantime, and we will carry on as we have been.”

Rose nodded and offered Severus a warm, encouraging smile. It was clear to her that her lover was not in the best headspace that day, and she wanted to do what she could to keep him content and avoid a turn in his moods. After all, it was better for the baby if he kept his mood up. “Just so you know, if you should hear anything about me and other guys, it’ll be because Lavender is trying to put a face to my mysterious boyfriend. I hardly gave them any information, so they’ll want to investigate just about every boy in the school. I only brought that upon myself.”

“So be the ways of an eighteen year-old girl,” Severus droned, feeling a certain tightening in his chest. It seemed that it had finally hit him what those little white lies actually meant, and what it would entail in the weeks to come. The very idea of people sticking their noses into his and Rose’s lives was already making him feel a bit like a trapped rat, and he abruptly set his ladle and bottle to the side to slowly walk into his office. Rose swiftly came walking in after him as he eased down into one of his wingchairs and rested his head in his hand. And recognizing Severus’s unspoken need to voice his frustrations, she dropped down to her knees before him.

Rose didn’t seem too concerned about the other professors. The old saying was that there was safety in numbers, and this case, fewer was better. Sprout and Flitwick were both reliable when it came to keeping a secret. They wouldn’t have known about Severus’s unborn baby if they weren’t. As for the annoying little problem called Cassandra Wicker, Rose reminded him that she always had peoples’ best interests at heart. If she let that little bit of information slip to anyone, it would be by pure accident. But even if any other teachers got wind of the rumor Severus had set himself up for, they wouldn’t dare question him about it. If they did, they would find themselves on the wrong side of an angry werewolf. No, the staff wasn’t the problem. For Severus, and upon further reflection, for Rose, the real concern lay with those three eighteen year-old girls. Any rumor that found its way up to Gryffindor tower only did so by Lavender Brown’s sheer need to tittle-tattle, which could mean that any number of students could be looking out for a particular male presence in Rose’s daily life.

“We’ll be okay, Sev,” said Rose, letting Severus run a gentle hand through her hair. “Bugger what everyone else thinks. What you do in your private life is no one’s business, and the other teachers know that they have to respect that. And never mind my friends. They don’t mean any harm in accidently starting a stupid rumor or two. Plus, they don’t even know half of what goes on between us.”

_‘Brown and Patil maybe, but that still leaves Granger,’_ Severus thought to himself with great unease. He really wished that Rose had not said anything to that nuisance of a Head Girl. She already knew too much just being under the impression that Rose had a simple schoolgirl crush on him. If she were to become suspicious, she would likely be better equipped to find the answers she wanted. But the true danger in that was the fact that Granger was part of a packaged deal. Anything that she knew would sooner or later find its way back to her bumbling Weasley boyfriend, and by further extension, right to Potter.

Potter…the very thought of him made Severus’s blood boil, more so than usual. After so openly telling the world about his deep, long-lasting affections for Lily, there could not have been a more untrustworthy person in the entire Wizarding world.

“Don’t worry about the boys, they’re as dim as candle stumps when it comes to other people’s relationships,” Rose told him with a smirk. She untangled Severus’s hand from her red tresses and placed a gentle peck to his palm. “And besides, Hermione wouldn’t tell them anything without telling me first. The only time she ever did was when Harry came to her asking about me and Dante, and even then, she made him swear never to tell.”

Ah, but if he was so dim, then how did he ever figure that out in the first place? Severus could live with the idea of absentminded girls and overly nosey colleagues meddling in their business, but there was no way that he could ever allow Potter to invade his life in that way again. Potter was so narrow-minded and compulsive, so unwilling to change his mind without drastic intervention, he couldn’t even be trusted with the idea of Rose’s crush. He would not be able to keep information to himself, and if he were to follow in the same pattern as his summertime press tour, he wouldn’t be able to keep his opinions to himself. At least Rose shared some of the same sentiments. As fond as she was of Potter, and as much as she would have liked to be able to convey those deep thoughts to him, she recognized that Harry was still biased, and therefore unfit to confide in. That however did not lessen her disappointment, if the look on her face was any indication. For once, Severus tried to set aside his ill feelings and find sympathy for his much younger girlfriend.

But unfortunately, that was just something he could not do.

**~HP~**

Cauldrons were bubbling steadily as Severus stalked up and down the rows of desks, listening to the sounds of his Seventh year class grunting and mumbling their way through their practical lesson. With the exception of Rose and Hermione, who were busily tending to their brews in the center of the room, the entire class appeared that they would much rather be somewhere else,  bearing facial expression that could have put Azkaban’s longest interned to shame. Severus had to resist the urge to snarl; this was exactly why he disliked the end of the week. He was as keen to get a start on his weekend as everyone else at Hogwarts, but he still had the capacity to hold focus until the last class let out. Was it so difficult for the students to do the same? And letting their minds wander in the midst of these double lessons was foolish, not to mention potentially hazardous.

The potion that he had instructed the class to brew was a concoction to cure blindness, which the students assumed would be a fairly easy task compared to some of their other lessons. That is, until they opened their books and saw the massive list of precise ingredients and detailed instructions required. Much of the noise filling the room was that of frustrated groans as the students struggled to prepare the ingredients exactly the right way before adding them to the fragile potion at the correct time. One minute off, and they could have some grievous outcomes. Though they were eager for week to be out, no one wanted to start the weekend with failure.

Severus casually walked about the room, peering into cauldrons as he went. Every now and then, he would glance over at Rose, watching her as she stared intently at her scales until the amount of unicorn horn was just right, looking into her cauldron every few minutes. The only time she took her eyes off her brewing potion was to adjust the red ribbon that held her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head, and then she would get right back to work. Severus felt his pride swell knowing that she would be producing another perfect potion.

But then he looked a few feet to the left, where Potter stood fumbling over a pile of half-diced dandelion grass. It was incredible that Potter could believe that he was doing anything right the way he mangled his ingredients. The unicorn horn wasn’t ground up enough, the dandelion was not as finely chopped as it should be, and he hadn’t even touched the wormwood yet. Honestly, the boy could read! And if the book couldn’t tell him how delicate this potion was, Nags-a-lot Granger sure would. But would Boy-wonder listen? Judging by how many times he had glanced up at the clock in the span of an hour, apparently not.

“Potter,” Snape barked as he stalked over to the desk. “Are you determined to choke us with noxious smoke?”

Harry stopped what he was doing and looked up with a perplexed wrinkle in his brow. “Certainly not, sir. Why do you ask?”

“Because that is exactly what will happen if you use that unicorn horn the way you have it prepared. Of course, if you had bothered to read your instructions, you would have known that.”

“I am reading the instructions,” said Harry, his tone already starting to harden in defense. Snape just rolled his eyes and sneered as he said, “Evidently, you still haven’t learned that footnotes are just as important as the text. Or perhaps the great Harry Potter doesn’t have the time to read the whole text. If you were to look three feet to your right, you would see that Beckett and Granger are following every direction. Unless you wish to end this class in another abysmal failure, you should think to follow their example.”

Harry pressed his lips together, not daring to say another word. People still talked about Rose’s loud squabble with Snape back in September, and he didn’t want to end up being the next unfortunate topic of gossip. A few noisy giggles from the Slytherins on the other side of the room did nothing to ease his tension. Snape turned away and resumed his habitual pacing.

“It’s always me,” Harry grumbled, just loud enough for his friends to hear. “I save his damn life and he still goes after me every chance he gets.”

“Well, he has a point,” said Rose, sprinkling a dash of her dandelion greens into her cauldron. “If you don’t grind that horn up some more, we’ll all be leaving here with bubbles over our heads.”

“Rose, as much as I appreciate your commentary, I really don’t need it right now.” Harry set aside his chopped up greens and reached for his bunch of wormwood.

“I’m just trying to help,” Rose said, arching her head to Harry with a slighted expression. She had no idea why Harry was so grumpy that day. Perhaps it was an overload in class assignments, or maybe it had something to do with the approaching Quidditch match against Ravenclaw that weekend. Whatever it was, it was turning the ordinarily well-mannered Head Boy into an irritable mess, and not even his closest friends were safe. Harry snorted as softly as he could.

“Just because no one hears Snape complaining about your potions doesn’t mean you have to go out of your way to help everyone.”

Rose whipped her head at Harry with wide eyes and an offended gape. “Excuse me?” she said.

“Will you two be quiet?” Hermione suddenly snapped. “We only have another forty minutes to finish our potions, and we don’t need to lose points for arguing in the middle of class.”

“I’m not the one arguing here, Hermione,” said Rose. She glanced over to notice how Severus was watching them out of the corner of his eye, no doubt eavesdropping on their conversation, waiting for the right time to intervene. She then shot a brief glare at Harry, who was in the process of being talked down by Ron as they took apart their bunches of wormwood.

“So, Potter’s entourage is starting to come apart, huh?” Draco Malfoy jeered from his side of the room, stirring a glass rod through his simmering liquid. “About time, I would say. Who could put up with Saint Potter for that long?”

“Stay out of this Malfoy,” Harry warned, clinging to control. Draco however just sneered. “Come now, Potter, we’re in public. Show some manners to those who are graced with your presence.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Rose, throwing her voice over to the vile Slytherin and his girlfriend. Parkinson started laughing at the sound of her voice.

“Silence,” Snape called over his students’ heads, and he began to make his way back up to his desk, passing between Rose and Harry’s seats on the way. “That’s five points from Gryffindor for inciting a disturbance, and five points for what is sure to be a botched potion.” He noticed the Head Boy make another nervous glance up at the clock. “And might I remind you, Potter, that persistent staring does not make time go faster. Get your mind off of your precious Quidditch practice, and focus on your work.”

“Well, excuse me if some of us have other priorities,” Harry finally snapped, smacking his hand down on the surface of his desk.

Snape stopped in his tracks, and he turned on his heel to face the Potter boy. “What was that, Potter?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, the world does not revolve around your lessons,” said Harry, his voice grinding against his Adam’s apple.

“Harry!” Rose barked, nearly dropping her rod onto the floor. Harry jerked his head to the right and scowled at her. “Shut up, Rose!”

Those three words were all it took for Severus to completely lose it.

Feeling the overwhelming surge of anger, he stormed over to Potter’s desk and gave the boy a glare so deadly, it had students on higher floors cowering. “Just who do you think you are, Potter?!” he growled. “Our gracious Wizarding Savior doesn’t need to follow direction, does he? You say the world does not revolve around these lessons? It doesn’t bloody well revolve around you either! And if you must insist on fighting with your classmates, do it on your own time!”

“Professor,” Rose spoke in a calmer tone. “Professor, try and calm down.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” said Harry, stepping right over Rose’s words to talk back to the very suddenly irate Potions master. “You want me to just sit here and work, right? Well, I can’t bloody do that with you griping at me every chance you get!”

Snape snarled viciously, making some students in the back, and even a small number of his own Slytherins, jump and tremble. “So, you are still under the impression that fame guarantees success. Are you even remotely aware that your future lies in my hands?! You know Potter, if I had gotten my way, you wouldn’t be sitting here today! You don’t deserve it, you never have! You wouldn’t have even gotten past your fourth year if you hadn’t had others breathing down your neck! I’m not surprised that Beckett feels the need to lecture you from the side!”

Ignoring the mention of her name, Rose stepped forward and reached out her hand in an attempt to touch Severus’s arm. She knew that there wasn’t much she could do when Severus’s hormonally-driven moods took these turns for the worse in front of everybody, but she also knew that she had to do what she could to help bring him back. “Professor, calm down,” she said, keeping firm control of her tone.

Harry growled in his throat. He didn’t know why Snape was coming at him so wildly, so suddenly, but he wasn’t going to sit there and take it for a minute longer. “I know what I’m bloody doing!” he shouted. In his frustration, Harry grabbed a whole wormwood bud and tossed it down into his cauldron. The liquid gave a sharp, loud hiss almost instantly, and the potion’s color changed from an orange to an odd shade of gray.

All Harry had time to hear was Hermione’s horrified shriek as she cried out, “Harry, no –!”

The cauldron exploded with a deafening bang. Students dove to the floor to dodge the flying shards of pewter, and they cried out when they were hit by hot, splashing liquid. And even if they were unharmed, few rose to their feet afterward because a great cloud of smoke hung over their heads. Coughs and swearing could be heard as the dust from the blast finally settled.

Hermione carefully stood up, terribly shocked after almost getting a face full of hot potion. Panting, she looked around the room at her equally shaken classmates. She saw Harry and Ron hunched under their desk, using bits of their robes as temporary bandages for their cuts and burns. Rose had somehow managed to shove Snape down and out of the way in the nick of time, and she still lay on top of him in a protective huddle. Hermione’s eyes widened when she saw that neither of them were moving.

“Damn it, Potter! Are you trying to kill us?!” Draco shouted as he pulled himself up off the floor.

“We need to get help!” cried Hermione, seeing the steam rising from the back of Rose’s robe where she was splashed. “Someone go get Madam Pomfrey!” Neville took up the task with a frightened yelp, and he stumbled over Dean and Parvati on his way out the door. He then sped off down the dungeon hall, headed for the main stairwell. Right behind him ran Seamus. All he needed was one look at the motionless Potions master for him to believe that they might need more help than they thought.

Harry and Ron started to crawl out from under their desk, puffing for breath amongst the dissipating smoke. Harry looked down at Rose and Snape through soot-covered glasses, keeping pressure on a cut in his cheek. With each passing second, his sense of dread grew that it was his fault that those two were lying on the ground, possibly quite injured, or even worse! His mouth hung open, suddenly at a loss for words.

“Are they alright?” asked Ron, who was wiping a layer of filth from his face.

“I don’t know,” Hermione gasped. She crept closer to their professor and the student laying over him, and it was then that she saw how tightly Rose’s hands were gripping onto Snape’s robes. Closer still and Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she heard two low, rattled breaths. She laid a gentle hand on Rose’s shoulder, kneeling down beside them. “Rose, are you okay? Are you hurt? Is Professor Snape?”

Rose managed to get one tense hand open, planted it on the floor above Snape’s shoulder, and shakily lifted her upper body up. “Hermione…” she croaked, her voice constricted more from fear than actual injury. The Head Girl tried to help her up off the ground, still speaking with high-pitched words. “Are you hurt? Is the potion burning you?”

“I’m fine, just get off me!” said Rose, swatting Hermione’s hands away. She then turned her attention back to Snape. His eyes were clamped shut, and he was gasping lightly, as though winded. A light sweat was starting to form on his forehead. “Professor?” Rose whispered, stricken with terror at seeing her Severus like this. She gently wiped the sweat away and used her hand to shield the light from Snape’s eyes as they opened just a touch. “Can you hear me?” How badly she wanted to cry out his name, panicking for both his safety and that of his unborn baby! But with Hermione within inches of them, Rose had no choice but to swallow her fear and allow it to sit in her stomach like the hardest of stones.

“Professor Snape, are you alright?!” the aforementioned Head Girl squeaked. “Say something!”

What seemed like hours passed before Snape let out a soft groan and looked directly up at the red-haired Gryffindor hovering over him. “Rose…I…I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” asked Rose, finally getting some strength back in her voice.

“You brainless bint, he can’t breathe!” Draco roared as he charged over. “Get off of him!” The Slytherin grabbed hold of Rose’s arms and threw her off of the Potions master, making her yelp when her back hit the hard corner of the nearest desk leg.

“Don’t hurt her, Malfoy!” Harry shouted as he rushed over to help Rose up into a sitting position. Malfoy looked as though he wanted to protest, but he was so caught up in his own overwhelming alarm that he stood frozen beside Harry and Ron, overlooking the two Gryffindor girls on the floor with his Head of House.

Snape blew out deep breaths, trying to regain control of his breathing. Hermione got closer to Snape’s head, touching his shoulder to attract his attention. “That’s it, Professor, just breathe. Does it hurt anywhere?”

Snape just shook his head, continuing with his heavy breathing. A weak hand came up from his side to grasp at his stomach. Seeing this, Rose instinctively crawled over and laid her hand next to his, feeling the sharp tingle of his Glamour Charm coursing through her fingers. She heard Hermione say something about how she must have hit him a little too hard on the way down, but Rose flatly ignored her. She just concentrated on searching for movement, a sign that the unborn child was okay. It took a few minutes, but Rose let out a silent sigh of great relief when she felt those tell-tale spasms under her palm. She glanced up at a visibly calmed Snape, and his rigid body started to relax.

Outside, they heard the loud, disjointed noise of someone running, and Lupin came bursting in through the open dungeon door with Seamus on his tail. “What happened? Is everyone alright?” he panted as he slowed to a limp.

“A cauldron exploded,” Hermione explained, still trying to tend to Snape. Lupin looked down at the Potions professor, still sprawled out on the stone floor, and his amber eyes immediately shot open.

“Move aside, Hermione,” he commanded, falling to his knees beside Snape. Both Hermione and Rose backed away, though they both chose to remain close by. “Did you call for Madam Pomfrey?”

“We sent Neville up to fetch her. She should be here soon.”

“Excellent,” said Lupin. He turned to look at the rest of the lingering class. “Those of you who are unhurt, please adjourn to the library until the end of classes. Leave your potions as they are.” There was a brief moment of hesitation, but once they realized that the order was coming from another professor, the majority of the class got up and herded themselves out of the room. The only one who chose to remain was Draco, too worried about Snape to let him out of his sights. Apparently, Parkinson didn’t think to look back to see if her other half followed her.

Harry was helping Rose off the floor when Madam Pomfrey came rushing into the classroom, running right over to kneel at Snape’s right. Neville came in after her, huffing and puffing as he hauled over the Mediwitch’s medical bag and placed it down on the floor beside her. “Thank you, Mister Longbottom. You may go now.” Pomfrey watched the boy run off before turning back to her patient, who Lupin was helping to sit up. “Was he hit at all by the blast?”

“We don’t think so,” said Harry, and the Mediwitch opened up her bag to retrieve some gauze and Sterilizing Solutions for their injuries obtained in the blast. Ron nodded his head assuredly. “Yeah, Rose knocked him out of the way just in time.”

“Are you alright, Rose?” asked Lupin, noticing the marks on the back of her robe where the potion and cauldron fragments hit her. Rose nodded her head, waving her hand at her professor as she said, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Just help him.”

“He was having trouble breathing before,” Draco spoke up, trying to get a better look at what they were doing.

“Yes,” agreed Hermione with a nod. She reached out toward Snape’s abdomen. “And we think that Rose might have hit him a little too heavily when she landed on – _yelp!_ ” Hermione suddenly jerked back when she felt the magical prickle in her fingers. Recognizing the traces of a spell, her eyes opened to the size of tea saucers.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Ron asked as he walked up to her side.

“I – I felt something!” said Hermione, trying not to point to Snape’s body. Behind her, she didn’t notice the petrified look etched into Rose’s face.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, stepping closer. But before he could get too near, Remus waved him off. “Alright, that’s enough. Back it up, all of you!” Harry obeyed the werewolf’s orders and took several steps back, right along with Ron and Hermione, who had at last risen from the floor.

Snape finally got enough of his strength back to force himself up into a seated position. Madam Pomfrey gently stroked the sides of his sweat-glazed face, though her tone remained firm. “Talk to me, Severus. Are you feeling any pain?”

“No,” said Severus, still a little breathless. Madam Pomfrey nodded, and she touched Snape’s arm. “Have you felt any movement at all?”

“Movement?”

Pomfrey’s head jerked up at Ron’s abrupt assertion. She hesitated briefly before turning to Lupin. “Remus, could you see to them, dear?” The dusty-haired professor nodded and started to struggle to his feet. Madam Pomfrey then turned back to Snape. “Answer my question, Severus.”

Snape seriously hesitated for a moment, far too aware of the student presence around them. But still he took in a shaky breath and said in barely a whisper, “Yes.” His hand once again rested on his stomach. Madam Pomfrey let her eyes travel down the Potions master’s midsection.

“Poppy, we need to take that charm off of him,” said Lupin. Snape however responded with a forceful shake of his head.

“Severus, we must,” said Pomfrey. “I won’t be able to perform a proper examination without ridding us of the interference.”

“No!” he pleaded, gripping his robes. “Not here!” Lupin came up behind him to clasp his shoulder.

“What charm?!” Draco barked out, his tone hitching up slightly. “What’s going on?!”

Lupin looked up and surveyed the scene around him. He saw how Harry and Rose were largely ignoring their own wounds as they watched Snape. Draco Malfoy’s concern and incomprehension was beginning to turn into anger, his fists bunching up at his side. And beside a slightly disorientated Ron, Hermione stood frozen, looking hopelessly confused. And it was then that Remus fully realized that in their haste, he and Poppy had said too much. He just knew that each one of these five students was trying to figure what the hell they meant in asking Snape those questions. Something else also told him that they wouldn’t stop wondering until they got their answers. A slow look down at Pomfrey with her hands on Snape’s stomach confirmed what he didn’t want to admit.

They were busted…

“I want all of you to fix yourselves up as best you can,” he said to the youngsters. “I think we need to arrange a meeting with the headmaster.”

**~HP~**

“We’re in trouble,” Ron said in almost a squeaky, singsong chant. “We’re in so much trouble!”

The four Gryffindors and the Slytherin sat fidgeting in the middle of the Dumbledore’s huge office, taking up a sofa that had been transfigured to accommodate them all. They all had finally had their injuries properly dressed with Sterilizing Solutions and Burn-healing Paste, covered by various types of bandages. Dumbledore had told them to wait there while he went down to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey was performing a more thorough check on Snape’s physical condition. Although, nearly all of them were convinced that the delay was only to make them more nervous about what was to come.

“What’s all this talk of _we_?” Draco snapped. “It’s Potter who’s in trouble. It’s his potion that blew up!”

“I wouldn’t have blown up that potion if you hadn’t been egging me on,” Harry ground out, glaring at the young Malfoy out of the corner of his eye.

Draco scoffed at that. “You must be mental! It was Beckett who was egging you on!”

“Hey, I wasn’t egging him on, you thick bastard!” snarled Rose, squeezed into the very end of the sofa by the four bodies beside her.

“Will all of you just shut it?!” Hermione hissed, sitting in between Rose and Harry. “Obviously, there’s a reason why we’re all up here, and it probably has something to do with Professor Snape.”

“You don’t think because we were all involved with that argument before the accident, we’re all going to get punished for what happened, do you?”

Hermione craned her head to the side to shoot a hard look at Ron. “No Ron, don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “But there’s something not right here. I felt something when I touched Snape, a kind of magical surge. Did you feel it too, Rose?”

“I did,” Rose admitted, raising her eyebrows as she stared at the wall.

“It probably has something to do with that charm Madam Pomfrey was talking about,” said Harry. “What do you think she meant by that?”

“I dunno,” said Hermione, shaking her head. She twisted her fingers fretfully in her lap.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Dumbledore strolled into his office. “Thank you for your patience,” he addressed the students. “I apologize for the long wait, but I had to make a quick run to Professor Flitwick’s office.”

“Is Professor Snape alright?” asked Rose at almost the exact same time as Draco. They shot looks at each other from opposite ends of the sofa.

Dumbledore let out a half-chuckle, noting the concern in both their fair eyes. “Not to worry, Professor Snape is a bit shaken up, but he appears to be unharmed. Actually, he should be joining us in a few moments.”

As if on cue, McGonagall walked in, straight-backed and with a deathly serious expression. Just behind her, Lupin escorted Snape in with a guiding hand. The Potions master looked at the five students as he entered, though his glare was much wearier than they were used to seeing. It was almost as though he didn’t want to be there any more than they did. A wave of Dumbledore’s wand produced three more chairs, and the three other professors sat down. They noticed how careful Snape was as he eased down. He couldn’t have been hurt that badly, they thought anxiously. Dumbledore then turned to the sofa.

“I am sure the five of you are wondering why you are here,” he said, and the kids all nodded. The elderly wizard gave them a subtle smirk as his bushy eyebrows gave a little twitch. “I have spoken with Professor Snape, and I have a fairly good idea about exactly what happened this afternoon. The lot of you do get yourselves into the most peculiar situations, don’t you?”

“Headmaster, is this really the time for cheeky commentary on your precious favorites?” asked Snape, hunching slightly over himself. McGonagall rested her hand on his upper back, rubbing gently. “Calm yourself, Severus.”

“Quite right,” Dumbledore agreed before looking back at the five kids. “As I was saying, having been informed of the situation, I’m afraid that we have some very serious business to attend to.”

“Professor, if this is about the accident, it was my fault,” said Harry. He figured that if he was going down for causing potential harm to Snape, he didn’t want to take his friends and Malfoy down with him. “It was my cauldron, and my mistake that caused the explosion. If anyone should be punished for it, it should be me and me alone.”

“Easy Harry,” said Dumbledore, waving a gentle hand at him. “Yes, this has to do with the accident down in Professor’s Snape’s classroom, but there is no time for discipline at this moment.” The students wilted back, relieved that they were at least temporarily off the hook, only to have that anxiety replaced with another.

“Then why have you brought us here?” Ron decided he would be the brave one and ask the obvious question. “What did we do?”

“It is not about what you did, Weasley, but what you saw,” said Snape from his seat on the other side of the room.

“What does he mean?” Harry asked with utter perplexity.

“What Professor Snape means is that we need to talk to you about what happened immediately after the accident,” Dumbledore explained on behalf of the Potions master. He took a step closer to get a better look at his students’ faces, making direct eye contact with each of them. “Now, before I say any more, I need all of you to understand that this is a very delicate situation, and we ask that you all behave in an according manner.” He went down the jittery line of _Yes-sirs,_ ending with a hesitant Draco. Once he was sure of their cooperation, the old headmaster continued.

“It is my understanding that the five of you remained in the Potions classroom after Professor Lupin dismissed the rest of the class, and you were in the room when Madam Pomfrey arrived to tend to Professor Snape. It is therefore safe to assume that you were there to hear some of her initial inquiries as to the professor’s condition.”

The students nodded their heads, and Harry spoke up to take his turn as the voice of the group. “She was asking Snape some strange questions, and she was saying something about a charm of some kind.”

“Harry’s right,” said Hermione. “And Rose and I both felt the magical discharge. We felt it in our fingers the instant we touched his body.” She refrained from specifying which part of Snape’s body she was referring to, being that Snape was in the office with them, and he likely would not take well to some of the theories that were beginning to fill her head.

“Very observant,” said Dumbledore, stroking his beard. He started pacing the floor that separated teachers from students. “As you are intelligent young men and women, we cannot exactly deny what you heard in the dungeons. We would be fools if we thought we could. And what makes these circumstances more problematic is the fact that the majority of you seem to have a history of meddling. When you want certain information, you will go to the ends of the earth to find it. You get your answers one way or another, so to speak. I have had a long conversation with my colleagues about this, and we have come to the agreement that the best course of action would be to give you the answers ourselves, thus removing the risk of one of you trying to find them yourself.” Dumbledore shot a knowing look in Hermione’s direction as he continued in his path across his office floor.

Across the way, Snape was gripping the arms of his chair, and Hermione looked down to see how Rose was clutching the deep red sofa cushions in response. She carefully touched her leg, bringing her attention back as the headmaster continued. “Do any of you recall Professor Snape’s brush with poor health at the beginning of last term?” Once again, the kids nodded silently, and Dumbledore carried on. “It is time that we told you exactly what was happening to our Potions master.”

“Albus…” Snape suddenly said, his voice slipping into what sounded quite like a sort of desperate plea. Dumbledore stopped his pacing at the mention of his name, and he turned directly to face Snape. “It’s alright, Severus,” he said, his tone softening instantly and effortlessly. “I know it’s hard, but we all agreed. They must be told.”

“Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione quietly spoke, successfully regaining the elderly wizard’s attention. Dumbledore looked behind him and surveyed the young faces before him. In each of them, he saw hopeless confusion, a growing aggravation of having been hung out on the line, and even a child-like fear. He gave Severus a good squeeze of the shoulder before strolling back over toward the sofa.

“I understand that what I am about to say is likely to shock you,” he said. “But as your professor, I implore you to recognize the gravity of this predicament. As you can plainly see, this is a very difficult situation, and we will need sure cooperation from each of you. I ask one more time, do I have that from you?” Dumbledore allowed a full minute for his students to nod their agreement, and after glancing back at the anxious Potions master, he straightened his back and laced his fingers together.

“You were correct, Miss Granger, when you believed that you and Miss Beckett sensed the effects of a spell, and yes, it was the spell to which Madam Pomfrey was referring to. I’m sure you are all tired of waiting for answers, so I will be blunt. What it was that you ladies felt when you reached out and touched Professor Snape’s abdomen was the Notice-me-not Glamour Charm. The reason for it is that Professor Snape is using it to conceal a certain physical condition he has recently obtained. You see…” Dumbledore paused, but sensing the thick anticipation in the room, he took in a deep, poised breath. “Professor Snape is pregnant.”

The kids sat unmoving in their spots, as silent as they ever were. Some of their eyes widened while others let their brows contort in bewilderment. Having expected a bit more violent reaction, the professors didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned by the stillness. It was Draco Malfoy who let out the first nervous chuckle. “Forgive me, Professor, but I must have heard wrong. You didn’t just say he was pregnant, right?”

“I too apologize, Mister Malfoy, but you heard correctly. He is currently in his fifth month, and the child is due to be born in the spring.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on!” Ron suddenly spoke up, waving his hands wildly. “You cannot be serious! He’s a bloke for Prospero’s sake!”

Dumbledore shook his head at the redheaded Gryffindor. “While I cannot and will not give you the details as to how our Potions master came to be in this unique situation, I can safely assure you that I am being very serious.”

“Then show us,” demanded Harry out of the clear blue. The green in his eyes seemed to flare in his increasingly agitated state. “Show us some proof!”

The headmaster hesitated, if only for a second or two. But he quickly regained himself and let out a long sigh. “You heard the boy, Severus,” he said, turning to the Potions master. “Show them.”

Snape carefully rose to his feet, refusing help from both McGonagall and Lupin, and stepped forward. He let his deep, black eyes travel down the line of faces, pausing to take a good long look at Rose’s wide blue eyes. He breathed a deep, nervous breath, and then reached for his wand. With a swift flick, he lifted the Glamour Charm. The students gasped when they saw the distinct swelling at Snape’s midsection, gently pushing at the buttons of his frock coat. Jaws hit the floor and eyes shot open painfully. Draco and Rose froze in place, their fair gazes locked on Snape’s person. Hermione, a hand clasped over her mouth, reached over Harry for Ron’s hand, but both he and Harry were too engrossed in the sight before them to notice.

“What the hell is this?!” Draco snapped. His hand shot out to point a jabbing finger at Snape’s rounding belly. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?!”

“Well, what would you have me do, Draco?” snarled Snape, disguising his humiliation as anger. “Would you prefer that I disrobe in front of you? What more proof do you need?!”

“There is also no need for such language, Mister Malfoy!” scolded McGonagall. Draco threw his hands up in the air with an exasperated huff. “Who could possibly think about language when faced with something like that?”

 “But – but – but how is this possible?” asked Hermione, who was starting to shake of some of the shock. Snape turned to her with a violent glare. “That is none of your concern, Granger. In fact, had it not been for Potter’s stupidity, none of this would be your concern.”

“Our plan originally was that no students would be made aware of the situation,” Lupin told them, cutting off a disgruntled Harry before he could voice his discontent.

“Why not?” asked a baffled Ron.

“Because of the circumstances that surround Professor Snape’s condition,” explained McGonagall. “In light of recent events involving the ending of the war, we fear for his safety and that of his unborn child. We did not want to risk the world finding out that he was with child, especially with a number of You-know-who’s followers still on the loose somewhere. Therefore, it was decided that only a small number of individuals would be involved, and we would do whatever we could to keep this from the student population, and the rest of the Wizarding world.”

“Which I must add we have done rather well considering the conditions of this school,” said Lupin. “If the five of you hadn’t lingered in the Potions classroom for as long as you did, there wouldn’t have been a need to have this conversation.”

Hermione poured over all the information her head could contain, trying to remember anything having to do with wizards bearing children that she might have picked up over the years. She was trying to remember the titles of the various books on medical magic she had previously read when she looked to her right and suddenly got a glimpse of Rose. Hermione could feel her stomach drop just looking at the stunned, almost lost expression in the poor girl’s face. Her eyes kept blinking, as though to prevent any mist from building up, and her lips twitched slightly from the words that were fighting to reach them. Hermione looked down at Rose’s hands to see knuckles going white from the tight hold she held on the cushions they sat on. A wave of sympathy washed over the Head Girl when she realized how gutted this new revelation had to have left Rose.

“Alright, this is where you kids come in,” said Dumbledore, lightly clapping his hands together, though not losing the gravity in his face. “As we said, it was never intended for students to find out about this pregnancy. But now that you have been brought in on our little secret, you now have a job to do. I want you to promise that you will guard this secret with everything you have. With the dangers that lay outside these walls, it is crucial that you help us make sure that this doesn’t spread any further. I also would like you to help us keep an eye on Professor Snape. He certainly isn’t one to admit it, but the further along he gets, the more he will need people’s assistance. We want you to make sure that he doesn’t overexert himself in the coming weeks, and be ready to summon aid if need be. But most importantly, I want you to work together to achieve this. I understand that some of you might not get along as well as others, but you must try and put that aside for the time being. This is a big responsibility you hold, and we don’t need any of your petty disagreements compromising that. As a colleague and as a friend, all I wish for Professor Snape is to have a happy outcome, as well as a healthy baby. With your help, we can still achieve that. Do I have your word?”

As far as the students were concerned, they might as well have been asked to guard some kind of holy relic. They had all faced greater dangers before in their lives, helped to save their world as they knew it, and yet none of them had ever felt this sort of burden. They all realized that they wouldn’t just be guarding Snape’s safety; they would be protecting his dignity. Only God knew how exactly Snape came to be pregnant, and their reactions had only been a taste of what would happen if the whole school were to find out. As much of a git as Snape could be, they did not want to see how he would react to his masculinity being torn to shreds. And some little voice inside them all said that it was more than Snape that they had to worry about. There was an innocent unborn at stake here! None of them, Gryffindor or Slytherin wanted to see something happen to Snape that would affect him and the child negatively. None of them wanted to feel that weight of guilt on their shoulders.

“I promise, you have my word,” said Harry, looking up at Dumbledore. The old headmaster however shook his head. “It isn’t me you should really be making that promise to.” He nodded at Snape, standing still in the middle of the room. Harry swallowed hard before repeating, “I promise, sir.” Then one by one, going down the line, the remaining four students turned their heads to Snape and vowed to keep his secret safe.

Snape watched them intently, almost daring them to say something otherwise. He could feel his emotions wearing thin, the humiliation beginning to take its toll. It must have been visible in his face because he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. He glanced over at Albus’s warm smile. “You can trust them, my boy. No matter what their past intentions might have been, they are true to their word. You are still in good hands.”

“Yes…yes, very well,” Snape said, shaking some sense back into himself. “Are we quite finished here, Headmaster?”

“You are, Severus,” said Dumbledore. “I’ll need a few more words with the children, but if you wish to return to your rooms, that will be quite alright. You should have a rest after such a strenuous day.”

Snape nodded his head slowly. It had indeed been a trying day, and in more ways than one. Right now, all he could want and ask for was the quiet solitude of his personal quarters. After concealing his growing belly with another quick swipe of his wand, he adjusted the fit of his robes and then turned to leave. But before he stepped out of the headmaster’s office, he turned his head to give a last glance at the students. He let his gaze fall on Rose, who was looking at him with a look so subtle, but still longing. He just barely noticed the gentle nod she gave him, and Snape felt some of his tension start to lift. He then left the room in silence, Lupin following a short distance behind.

Rose stared at the closed door for a few moments until Dumbledore spoke again. “Minerva, would you please make arrangements for the House-elves to bring five meals up for supper? I think the students need a little time to get used their new arrangements.”

**~HP~**

“I’m telling you guys, it’s unnatural,” said Ron, taking a long swig from the bottle of Fire Whiskey in his hand, one of three lying about the immediate area of the deserted Gryffindor common room. “It’s just bloody unnatural.”

“You’ve got some nerve saying something like that, Ronald,” Rose scolded, scrunched up into a ball in one of the fat armchairs by the fire. “Being unnatural is the foundation of our society.”

Ron snorted at that. “That might be true, Rose, but there are just some things that should _never_ happen in _any_ society. Men having babies is one of them!”

Ron was obviously still having a difficult time coping with the news of Snape’s pregnancy, and quite frankly, so were Hermione and Harry. They along with Rose ended up spending much of their evening in Dumbledore’s office, desperately trying to adjust to such an unbelievable concept, let alone their newfound duties and promises. Dumbledore had given them a bit more information concerning the Potions master’s condition, but while it had enlightened them slightly, it did very little to ease the disbelief and adverse astonishment that rendered each of them a stuttering mess of hopelessly muddled Gryffindor. They were still in a dizzy daze when they eventually returned to their common room, which led Harry and Ron to sneak up to the Seventh year boys’ dormitory and steal the bottles of whiskey that they were currently using to drown their stupor. With the number of bottles that he had acquired recently, they doubted that Seamus would notice if a few went missing.

“I still can’t believe none of us noticed anything,” Harry mumbled. He balanced another bottle on his knee as he cradled his head with one hand. “When you think about it, it was so obvious. I mean, given how ill he was in the fall, the way he’s been eating, the way his clothes started filling out, it’s all there. How the hell did we not even think of it enough to make a joke out of it?”

“I dunno,” said Hermione, shaking her head. She had been saying that quite a lot that night, which her friends found a bit disturbing. “I suppose that none of us thought that it could be possible. Dumbledore did say that the spell that caused Snape to become pregnant is so rare that even they had trouble finding information on it. That type of fertility magic just isn’t generally talked about by anyone.”

“And for good reason!” Ron almost laughed. That however caused Rose to let out a quiet growl. “Ron, now really isn’t the time for your cheeky little comments.”

“Hang on, Rose,” said Harry. “You spent more time with Snape than any of us. Didn’t you notice anything strange about his behavior?”

“If I did, pregnancy was the last thing I would have thought of.” Rose tucked herself further into the overstuffed cushions, and she hunched in over her body as she hugged her knees. “It’s unbelievable. Just when you think you’ve seen everything…”

“I don’t know how Snape could live like that,” said Ron, scrunching his face up. “I mean, to have something living inside you…you know, moving around…that has got to be the strangest feeling in the world. Ah, it gives me chills just thinking about it!”

“What are you talking about, Ron?” Hermione said from her place beside her boyfriend on the sofa. “I don’t think that sounds very strange, and I’m sure Rose doesn’t either.” Rose offered a single nod, not very keen on voicing further opinion.

Ron scoffed his breath. “Of course you don’t think it’s weird, it’s perfectly natural for you women. But for men…I’ll say it again, it’s un-bloody-natural. And how is the kid supposed to come out? Don’t tell me that he has to give birth through his –,”

“Argh, don’t go there, Ron!” Harry groaned, cradling his head in his hand. “Don’t want to think about that! Don’t want to know!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I think what Harry is trying to say is that we have enough information to take in before we get to be around Professor Snape’s due date. This has been enough of a shock to us, and therefore, we should take this one step at a time.”

“It doesn’t matter if we take it one hundred steps at a time, it still doesn’t make it any easier,” said Harry. Rose remained silent in her chair as she stared into the flames in the hearth.

“Who do you suppose the other father is?” asked Ron. His three companions looked at him with some incredulous looks, and the red-haired wizard shrugged his shoulders. “Well, there has to be one, right?” Rose reached over and grabbed the whiskey bottle from Harry, taking a long swallow of the smoking liquor.

Though Dumbledore had told them quite a bit about Snape’s pregnancy, he had conveniently neglected to mention who the child’s other biological parent might have been. He also didn’t give a reason behind it, stirring up even more of an interest. The foursome had only a bare bit of information, only that the pregnancy was caused by a little-known spell. But judging from what they had, a few things appeared to be clear, if not by magical theory then by basic biology. They assumed that the other parent had to be male. And that was something that sent shudders down more than a few spines.

“Ron, to be perfectly honest, I really don’t want to think about Snape’s sexual escapades,” Harry said as he shook his head with a rather repulsed expression. “I’m still trying to cope with how he felt for my mother, for magic’s sake! The last thing I want to think about is Snape being shagged by another wizard, much less Snape being shagged by another wizard and enjoying it.” He heard Rose take another hard gulp of whiskey.

“You don’t think it could be Voldemort’s baby, do you?” said Ron, his fingers clenching tighter around the neck of his bottle. That prompted Harry to rub a hand down his face and groan.

“No Ron, it couldn’t be,” said Hermione. “First of all, we don’t even know if there was any sexual contact involved, so don’t go jumping into the gutter, Harry. And second, the timing just isn’t right. Dumbledore said that Snape was five months along. That means the baby had to have been conceived sometime in August, a full three months after Voldemort’s death.”

“They still could have kept it in the family,” suggested Harry. “It could have been another Death Eater that fathered the child.”

“If he were, I doubt he would have an easy time getting that past Dumbledore,” said a disgruntled Rose. “And is it really our business to know whose baby that is?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if someone was carrying a fugitive’s bastard child?” asked Ron.

“Why don’t you get off your high horse and admit that might not be the case?” Rose asked back in a slight snarl.

“Settle down, Rose,” said Hermione, waving a hand at Rose to ease her back into her cushy seat. “Ron, the point of this is that we don’t know what really allowed Snape to conceive. It could have been through sex, or the spell alone could have done it. It could have been on his own, or someone else could have been involved. But in any case, I agree with Rose. It’s none of our business. Snape should be allowed a little bit of privacy, I think. He has enough people prying into his personal business without us sticking our wands in places where they don’t belong.”

“I still think it would have made more sense to just wipe our memories,” muttered Harry. “It would have been way the fuck easier than keeping Snape’s condition a bloody secret. And that’s not even including the shit that we have to deal with now that we’re stuck with Malfoy. I would rather use the Cruciatus Curse on myself than work with him. Surely, it would be easier for Snape and the others if we weren’t involved. I mean, he’s had no trouble keeping secrets on his own. He doesn’t need anyone’s help.”

“You just don’t get it, Harry,” said Rose. “We’re not keeping this a secret to make anyone’s life easier or to protect Snape’s pride. It’s because now that he’s pregnant, whether you choose to see it or not, Snape is vulnerable. There are still a lot of folks out there who would like to see Snape dead, and they cannot afford to have information slip out of Hogwarts. Think of it this way, Harry. It’s not just Snape’s welfare we’re being trusted with. You wouldn’t want to risk an innocent child, would you?”

Harry shook his head. “No…I mean, of course not.”

“I didn’t think so. Harry, what happened today shows just how at risk Snape is to being exposed. He’s lucky that it was just us there when Madam Pomfrey started checking him over instead of the whole class. Not everyone in our year is as good at keeping information to themselves. Could you imagine what would happen if Parvati got wind of this and told Lavender? Or if Dean and Seamus overheard? The more people who are aware of Snape’s pregnancy equal more chances of that information falling into the wrong hands. Having us involved means that he has more protection from something like that accident happening again. Snape needs our help, and after everything that he’s done for us, I believe we and Malfoy owe him that.”

“You’re really rattled by this, aren’t you?” said Harry, noting Rose’s anxious manner and tone. Rose forced out a sigh. “It’s not every day that you see a wizard who’s up the duff.”

Hermione stared at Rose from across the way, and she felt that pang of sympathy again. Rose looked nothing short of shattered, and the stoop in her shoulders showed her exhaustion. Her eyes had taken on a glimmer that had lasted through much of the evening. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if it really would have been better if Harry and Ron knew about Rose’s crush on Snape and understood these ill feelings she was exhibiting.

An hour passed, and the four Gryffindors started to feel the effects of the alcohol, letting it lull them into some level of inebriated tranquility. Ron was the first to decide that he had enough for one night, and he stumbled out of the common room to head up to bed. Not very long after, Harry followed, taking two of the nearly empty whiskey bottles with him. Hermione waited until she heard the dormitory door swing closed before she moved down the sofa to get closer to Rose, who was still curled up in her chair.

“You okay, Rose?” she asked in a hushed voice, almost like Rose was sleeping and shouldn’t be disturbed.

“I’m fine,” Rose mumbled, resting her cheek on the cushions. “I’ve got potion burns on my back, and I’ve been shocked into next week, but I’ve seen worse days. A good helping of Fire Whiskey certainly doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t blame you,” Hermione shook her head. “Not many things could convince me to have a drink, but it was a bit of a shock to hear that Snape is…expecting.” She hesitated briefly. Though she had done so with the boys for the sake of keeping proper fluency in face of their increasing drunkenness, Hermione was still not completely accustomed to the idea of addressing Snape’s condition for what it was. Even for someone as mature as her, there was still an element of weirdness that was a challenge to overcome. She had hoped that Rose would let it pass in her current state of melancholy, but the weary ginger witch saw right through the Head Girl with barely a glance in her direction.

“Just keep saying it to yourself, Mione,” she said. “He’s pregnant, he’s knocked up, he’s with child, he’s got a cake in the cauldron, he’s –,”

“Alright, I get it!” said Hermione, waving her hand at Rose. In turn, Rose shook her head with a feeble smirk. “Anyway, the point is that we are going to have to get used to this idea sooner or later. We might as start now while it’s still early for us. It would be embarrassing if we were still tripping over the word months from now, refusing to say the word _pregnant_ when Snape is about to pop.”

Hermione leaned over to rest her upper body against the arm of the sofa. “I honestly can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now. I mean, to find out that the man you have a crush on is expecting a baby. That has to be devastating!”

“It’s not like I could have prevented it,” said Rose. “I have no more control over Snape’s life than anyone else. What Snape does with his private life is his business. If he wants to have a child, then that’s his choice.”

“That still doesn’t make it any easier to accept,” Hermione mused aloud. “I know you probably don’t want to think about it, but there had to be someone else involved somewhere along the way. What if there was a possibility that the boys were right? What if Snape were having relations with another wizard?”

“He’s not gay!” Rose abruptly straightened her form as she turned her body to glare at Hermione. She quickly realized how rash that reaction was, and she slunk back again, trying to control her defensiveness. “I’ve had enough conversations with him to know otherwise. Trust me on this one, Hermione, he’s straight.”

“But something had to be going on for him to become pregnant. I don’t know very much about fertility magic, but I know that not a spell or potion exists that would enable someone to conceive a child without a partner. What if the other father is still around and we just don’t know it?”

“I don’t think he is, whoever he is.” And he better not come back again, Rose silently added.

“Do you think you would be able to ask Snape once everything calms down again?” asked Hermione. “You’re one of his favorites, and I doubt Malfoy will be able to stay quiet for long. Snape probably knows that one of you is bound to ask sometime.”

“He would know right away that it was really you guys I was asking for,” said Rose. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accused me of prying into his personal business on your behalf. To be honest, I’m not sure I would even ask at all. I cannot imagine what Snape is going through; to be having a baby after everything he’s endured. We’ve seen just how badly his condition is affecting him. I wouldn’t want to burden him with my own curiosity.”

“The poor guy…” Hermione said with a sigh. “It must be terrible to go through that alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Rose said, her tone halfway between solemn and reassuring. “As long as Dumbledore is around, he has support. We’re just reinforcement when you think about it.” Hermione gave Rose a small smile. She then carefully pushed herself to her feet.

“I think I’m going to bed,” she said, turning to Rose once again. “Are you coming?”

Rose shook her head. “I think I’ll sit down here for a while longer. I need some time alone.” Hermione nodded her understanding, and after whispering her good-nights to Rose, she went up to their room.

Rose waited on bated breath, listening for Hermione to reach the top of the tower. Once she heard the distinct creak and click of the door, she let out her relieved sigh. She waited a little while longer to see if anyone else would be wandering through at that hour, but once she was sure that she was alone for the night, Rose took one last swig of whiskey and ever-so-quietly left the common room

**~HP~**

Severus was stretched out on the sofa with his feet propped up when he heard the knock on the door to his rooms. Looking over his shoulder, he set aside the book he had been reading and straightened himself to sit upright, wincing at the dull ache in his back left from the potions accident. He watched as the rusted handle rattled, and then turned, allowing the door to opened with only a slight squeak. Rose made sure that it was firmly closed behind her before rushing over to her pregnant lover.

“Severus,” she gasped as she collapsed onto the sofa beside him and eased into his arms. “How are you feeling? Were you hurt in class?”

“I’m fine, Rosie,” said Severus, stroking the back of Rose’s head. “Both I and the baby were unharmed thanks to you. Frankly, I should be asking you how you are faring. I heard Pomfrey mention that the explosion left you with first-degree burns.”

“Believe me, Severus, I’m alright. Just as long as the two of you are okay.” Rose gently rubbed her hand over the bulge at Severus’s midsection, and Severus placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I must say,” he said. “That was a brilliant performance you gave this afternoon.”

“You should have seen me in the common room,” said Rose, giving a slight titter. “I’m telling you, Sev, I think I missed my calling as an actress. Given what I already know, it was pretty hard to keep face and blend in with my friends’ moods.”

“I don’t suppose Potter and his dream team are taking this very well.” Severus couldn’t help but sneer at the thought of it. Rose morosely shook her head. “They’re a mess, all of them. It’s mad because the only thing that could make Harry and Ron calm down was half a bottle each of Fire Whiskey.”

“I thought I smelled alcohol on your breath,” said Severus. “Just because those blundering berks need to get drunk to ease their troubles doesn’t mean that you have to follow their example.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” Rose asked her older boyfriend. “Even Hermione had a few mouthfuls, and she’s the biggest teetotaler I know. I couldn’t act all stunned and forlorn, but then refuse a drink when it was offered to me. It would have been too iffy for the boys not to notice.”

“If you say so,” Severus sighed. He sank back into the cushions, tugging Rose down with him. Rose snuggled in closer as she said, “What’s the matter, love?”

“What were they saying about me?” asked Severus, his voice dipping into his quieter, more diffident range. Rose paused at the question. She wanted to act on her first instinct to lie and tell Severus that her friends had been speechless the whole night. But upon further pondering of both her friends’ personalities and Severus’s experience with them, she realized that there wasn’t much room for a little white lie. All of the so-called Dream Team were vocal in their own right, and Harry especially would not let something go without a word from his mouth.

“They weren’t kind,” admitted Rose, her face falling as though ashamed. “I love them all to death, but I’ve never wanted to punch Harry in the face so hard in my life. It was despicable the things he and Ron were saying, that you were unnatural, and how you must be gay if you’re up the duff. The only thing more despicable was that they seemed to want me to go along with it. I put myself between you and a shattering cauldron, and they wanted me to rant about how unnatural your pregnancy is!”

“You see now why I was so wary of them,” said Severus. “Potter doesn’t think before he acts, before he speaks. He just reacts on first instinct, does what he believes is right. And Weasley is no better. Actually, Weasley might be worse that Potter.”

“But that’s what Hermione and I are here for,” Rose told him. She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “What about Malfoy? Have you spoken to him since this afternoon?”

Severus shook his head. “I’m not too thrilled about him knowing either. Draco has enough trouble controlling his emotions, and I don’t believe being forced to interact with four of his most detested classmates will make that any easier.”

“But what about the baby? What would he think about –?”

“You saw how he acted in Dumbledore’s office,” said Severus, with a tad bit more weight to his tone. “I know he will eventually turn up to speak with me about my pregnancy, but I already know that I won’t like what he will have to say.” The expectant professor let his dark eyes drift to the dungeon ceiling as he held his young lover close to his body, taking comfort from the soft hand on his stomach.

“That upsets you, doesn’t it?” said Rose. Severus let out another deep sigh before speaking again. “He’s my godson, Rose. That boy has been like family to me ever since he was born. And I don’t –,”

“You don’t want to lose that,” Rose interrupted, and Severus nodded. “After you, Draco was the one I most feared when it came to my condition. Draco is so quick to turn on people if he feels slighted, and he never regrets anything.”

Rose frowned, absentmindedly rubbing circles into Severus’s belly. “I can’t speak for Malfoy. I mean, we barely speak as it is. But if he respects you as much as he seems, then he ought to support you as much as he can.”

“That might be easier said than done, Rose. I don’t know how Dumbledore actually thought that bringing you kids in was a good idea. Potter and Draco will be more concerned with butting heads than actually cooperating with each other. Who’s to say that none of them will let this little secret slip to the rest of the school?”

“I won’t let that happen,” said Rose, sitting up to better face Severus. “Severus, they know that this is a major secret that they are being trusted with, and they know that the consequences could be dire if they fail to keep it. Hermione is already treating this like this is the most important assignment of her life. And as far as Harry and Ron are concerned, they might be opinionated, but that doesn’t make them dishonest. You can trust them with this, and if anything, remember that I’ll be watching them. I might be limited in what I can say about you, but I will say whatever I can to keep this situation under control. Just give them a few days, let them recover from the shock, and they’ll all come around eventually.”

“I will believe it when I see it,” said Severus. Rose leaned in to kiss Severus on the cheek.

“I’m sorry that your pregnancy was exposed like that,” she said. “I’m sorry that people you don’t like now know about the baby. But what’s done is done. This doesn’t have to be all bad, you know. I have one less secret to keep from my friends, and you have more support and protection. We can make the most of this, Sev, just like with our relationship.”

Rose’s words brought a certain amount of comfort to the wary Potions master, but Severus still felt an unsettling bit of anxiety tugging at his nerves. Potter and his cronies knowing about his pregnancy had left him feeling so naked, exposed to whatever was out to cause him harm, physical and emotional. There wasn’t even much safety with Draco, a boy he cared for like a nephew. Severus wouldn’t dare voice just how helpless he was feeling at the moment; his pride had already taken enough of a beating for one night. But it occurred to him that the time had come when he would have to rely more on Rose’s inner strength to get through the humiliating days that lay ahead of them.

It was good that Rose remained in his classroom after the accident, that she was there in Dumbledore’s office when the others were being told, because it was clear to Severus that he would need her now more than ever.


	56. Room to breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update!

Just as Severus predicted to Rose, Draco arrived at the Potions master’s office door a few days after the debacle in the dungeon classroom that uncovered the latter’s pregnancy. Having not heard from the young Malfoy since leaving him in Dumbledore’s office, Severus was anxious to see how his godson was faring. But while he had been expecting Draco to still be a little shaken, he could not have anticipated what Draco would look like after what should have been a short weekend of coping. Though not a blonde hair was out of place, his face was a ghostly pale with the beginnings of dark circles, and a pair of bleary gray eyes stared off into space. He also had a hunch in his shoulders, his high esteem drained from his proud body. Draco sat heavily in his chair, looking toward the professor across from him.

“Of all the arrogant, self-centered Gryffindors that I could have gotten stuck with, it had to be them!” the younger wizard growled deep in his throat. “What was that old codger thinking when he decided that I could actually get along with those pathetic, infuriating whelps?!”

“The headmaster seems to be under the impression that Potter and his golden cronies are not as dense as they seem at times,” said Severus. “It would have been foolish to turn a cheek and leave them to their own devices. As Dumbledore said, it had to be done.”

“But it’s completely pointless,” Draco snapped. “It’s not their Head of House, so it shouldn’t be any of their damn business. They don’t really care about the situation. They don’t care about you like I do.”

“Like it or not, that is the way it must be,” Severus explained, his own voice starting to constrict with annoyance. Draco always liked to pump up his own confidence by belittling those around him, but he clearly did not know just how blind he could be at times. Surely he didn’t think Rose’s presence in between lessons was for her own selfish reasons alone. “Draco, no one is asking you to be friends with them. But there comes a time in every man’s life when he must bite his tongue and do as he is told. All I ask from you is cooperation, however minimal that might be. I need you to stand with me.”

“I am!” the younger Slytherin again spoke up. “But you try to do as you’re told while trying to deal with people like that. Beckett won’t ever leave you alone now, and Potter will likely take all the credit when this is all over.”

“Are you so certain of that, Draco?” asked Severus, snarling deep in his throat. “For your information, I am prepared for those scenarios, and any unwanted attention that I might be saddled with. Like you, those four were given a task, and you and I both know how Gryffindors live to please.”

“You mean you are actually okay with this?” asked Draco. His face contorted in his growing disgust at the thought. “Severus, they don’t give a flying fuck about this whole situation! They don’t care about your condition, except perhaps how you got that way. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if they let it slip to the whole school that you were…like that.” He motioned toward the older wizard’s swelling middle, and Severus felt a deep sinking in the pit of his stomach. Draco seethed with frustration. “Knowing them, they’ll probably treat you like you’re nothing more than a common freak.”

“And you won’t?” Severus challenged, forcing down a snarl. Draco froze like a deer in a sudden burst of light, and he sank back into his chair. The Potions master’s face fell as he straightened his back. “Tell me the truth, Draco. Is it really so difficult to acknowledge that I’m pregnant? Is it that hard for you to say? You should know that both Beckett and Granger have sought me out to offer their apologies for what happened, and they were able to get the word past their lips. Why is it so hard for you?”

Draco growled, burying his face in his hands. “I’m trying, Severus,” he said. “But try looking at this from my perspective. Of course I’m having trouble saying that you’re preg – pregnant! This whole situation is too bizarre for words! I can’t just talk about it like it’s a Sunday stroll through the park!”

“I wasn’t really expecting you to,” said Severus. He felt his throat starting to tighten with heightened emotion. “But it’s been three days. If you care about me as much as you claim, you will put aside this denial and accept my pregnancy for what it is.”

“What if I need more than three days?” asked Draco. “Severus, you have been more of an uncle to me than anyone in my own family. For months, I watched your health declining, and there was nothing I could do to help you. Don’t you know what that’s like, to feel powerless as you watch a loved one suffer?” Severus nearly flinched at that particular question, trying not to let his memory drift to the last year of his mother’s life. But Draco would never truly understand the gravity of that. He wouldn’t really know for a long, long time if Narcissa took after her mother in life longevity.

Draco continued, his hand tensing at his side. “I had thought that you had improved in recent weeks, that you were finally going to get your health back…I thought you were going to be okay. Now I know that you are not okay, and you won’t be for a long time. I now have to worry about you every single day until that child is born. Do you have any idea what kind of a burden that is for me?!”

Severus found himself struck by the distraught innocence in Draco’s voice. The anger that he was so known for was still there, but it wasn’t from petty selfishness or misguided bias. And yet, there was more to it than the confusion that had rendered him so volatile in Dumbledore’s office. The look in the boy’s pale gray eyes showed the depth of the trouble overflowing from his young soul. He felt betrayed. He felt like he had been stabbed in the back by one of the last people he had left in his unhappy life. In some ways, Severus was his last tie to sanity in his mad, miserable world, and he was now losing that. Severus had to swallow hard to contain his growing upset.

“I know that this is not easy for you,” he said, laying a hand on his bump. “But don’t you dare speak to me like I did this just to spite you. I didn’t ask for this to happen. I didn’t go out and get knocked up at my own accord. I have to say that if Dumbledore hadn’t forced his support on me, I might not even have chosen to continue this pregnancy. All I could ever want from you is simply for you to accept this. You have been the closest thing I have ever had to a son, I know you far too well. Frankly, I was not surprised by your reaction in the headmaster’s office. If I thought that this would come easily, I would have told you months ago.”

Draco seemed to take a few seconds to let that sink in. His tense body suddenly wilted into the rough fabric of his chair, and his neck disappeared into his shoulders. “If you didn’t want this to happen, then how did it? How the hell did you get pregnant in the first place?”

“It was a series of unfortunate events, Draco,” said Severus. “It was an ill-intended curse, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anything more than that, I cannot say.”

“Oh, and why not?” asked Draco, a little annoyed, but Severus was quick to answer. “You don’t talk about your increasing desire for seclusion, your mother’s struggles to regain control of her household, or your father’s slow downward spiral into alcoholism. I don’t force you into speaking about something you are not ready for, so you should consider the same for me.” Evidently, Draco got the message, and his face fell once again.

“Alright, don’t tell me then,” he grudgingly said. “But do I know the child’s other father? You don’t have to give me his name.”

Well, that wouldn’t be an issue, now would it? Severus quickly formulated a response that was not quite truthful, but not an outright lie. “It is unlikely.”

Draco nodded his understanding, though with a frown that told Severus that the younger wizard had wanted a bit more clarity in this whole debacle. He brought a hand up to rub his pale temple. “I still don’t understand, Severus. Why would you even want to go through this at all? There are ways to get rid of an unwanted pregnancy. Why didn’t you terminate yours?”

“Because as time went by, it became less and less unwanted,” said Severus. “Draco, I don’t need to tell you that much of my life has been nothing but misery. For once, I am taking control of what happens to me, and I will make my own choices as to what I want. This is likely my one chance to have a child. If fate saddled me with this baby, then I will bloody well raise it.”

“You’ll raise it?” Draco mused out loud. “You mean you will actually continue on with your teaching, toting a kid wherever you go? Come on Severus, you have to recognize how ridiculous that sounds. It’s damn near impossible!”

“Impossible as it may be, I still intend to do it.” Severus wrapped his arm further around his abdomen in a protective embrace. “And I have enough people who are willing to help in that endeavor. Don’t try to fool me, Draco. It is not my teaching that concerns you.”

“Well…I,” said Draco, stumbling over words. “Don’t you think that having a kid will mean that you will have less time for the students? You’ll be more concerned about that baby than any of us Slytherins.”

That was when realization hit Severus like a solid brick wall. There was far more to Draco’s crossness than simple misunderstanding and shock. “Oh dear god,” he quietly gasped. “You think this child will take me away from you, don’t you?”

“You’re the only family I’ve got left, Severus,” said Draco, his voice box clenching up. “You put effort into me after my parents gave up. When that kid comes, your focus will switch to him or her. You won’t have the time for me or anyone else anymore, and don’t try to deny it.”

Severus sighed, seeing the increasingly distressed look in the young blonde wizard’s eyes. Feeling a hard knot in his chest, he leaned back into his chair, resting his chin in his hand. “You are right. I won’t have as much time to devote to you after my child is born. But you are not exactly a child yourself, Draco. I highly doubt you need me as much as you once did.”

“So you think. I could always count on you to be there while I was growing up. You were there when I needed someone to talk to, you helped my life to make sense. And I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to give that up for a squally little brat.”

“Now wait just a minute,” said Severus, pointing at Draco from across the room. “I might have a new set of priorities in my near future, but that does not mean that I won’t give you as much of my attention as possible. I will still offer you guidance when you need it, I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you. But at the same time, you cannot rely on me for everything. In fact, you shouldn’t have to rely on anyone anymore. It is time that you take charge of your own life, and assume your own responsibilities. Pardon the expression, but perhaps it is time to cut this umbilical cord.”

“But what if I’m not capable?” asked Draco with complete honesty. “I didn’t exactly have a huge margin of flexibility growing up at Malfoy Manor. What if I don’t know how to live any other way?”

“Nonsense,” Severus shook his head. “You are not some mindless imbecile that follows every order he’s given. Your father might have groomed you for the Death Eaters when you were younger, but that part of your life is over now. You want people to see something other than the Dark Lord’s follower when they look at you? Well, then you have to take it upon yourself to change their opinions. Take those four Gryffindors for example. They might not be as much a bother to you if you learn to share me with them for the time being.”

“Oh please,” Draco sneered. “Like I’m going to stand aside and let Rose Beckett leech off of you again. She’s a raving, lunatic bitch! You can’t expect me to get along with her!”

Severus swallowed hard to contain his aggravation. Even if it was Draco, and even if this was expected of him, it still angered Severus to hear anyone talking down on his darling Rose. “You would be surprised to find out that if you speak to Beckett in a polite manner, she will in turn speak to you the same way.”

“You’re trying to say that she knows how to talk like a normal human being? I’ll bet you only know that because she’s here almost every chance she gets. How the hell can you even tolerate her for that long? And those ridiculous rumors about Beckett being a new favorite of yours…they can’t really be true, can they?”

“In so few words, yes,” said Severus, suppressing the growl. “Draco, I cannot possibly deny that I have a certain favor for Miss Beckett. I also happen to think that she is not as much the spoiled child I once thought she was. And no matter what you have to say, I will not be turning her away, especially now.”

“Severus, are you listening to yourself?” Draco just about snarled as he rose to his feet and started pacing about the office. “This baby nonsense has got you saying absolute rubbish! You’re going soft on that daft bitch!”

“That might be true, but do I look concerned to you? Besides, that is hardly the point I was trying to make. Draco, do you honestly want to be of any help to me?” Severus allowed a moment’s time for his godson to give him a rather cautious nod. “Then the best thing you can do is to keep to the task that you were assigned to. You were given orders to watch out for myself and my unborn child, and that is all that I expect you to do. I honestly don’t care what you think about Beckett or her association with me. But unless you want to create trouble for all of us, you will keep your opinions to yourself. What I do with my time and which students I take interest in is none of your business, and it never will be.”

“But she’s –,”

“I know, I know, she’s brash and outspoken. She’s a Gryffindor; the whole lot of them are like that. But that is a challenge that you must overcome if you wish to be of any use to me. I really fought for you when we were debating whether or not you should be told of my condition. Some of my colleagues didn’t seem to think you were very trustworthy. Nothing, I repeat, _nothing_ will prove your loyalty to me more than cooperating with four meddlesome Gryffindors.”

Draco wandered over to the wall and leaned his body up against the ancient stone. “I’m not making any guarantees,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

“You will do what you can, for all of our sakes,” said Severus. He stood up carefully and stepped over to stand behind the younger Slytherin. “I’m sorry that I had to get you into this, but I truly need all the support you can give. I cannot do this on my own, and to be perfectly honest, I hoped you would be part of my child’s life. They need someone to look up to growing up.”

The young blonde wizard turned around, his facial expression so small for such a dignified lad. “You mean that? You want me to be a role-model for your child?”

“Only if you prove it to me that I can trust you with that responsibility.” Severus let his hand rest atop his raised middle in a protective fashion. Draco watched this and swallowed as the Potions master continued. “It will be a little over four months before my child graces the world with its presence. That is just enough time for you to work on yourself. This will be a big change for all of us, and you need all the preparation you can get.”

The two former Death Eaters looked at each other for a long moment, and after a great deal of hesitation, Draco spoke in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Yes sir.”

**~HP~**

“So you know, Severus, I spoke with Albus about your request for larger quarters,” Minerva explained as she stirred a nice amount of cream into her tea. “As you are adamant about keeping your current lodgings, we will have to put in a formal request to the Board of Governors to install another chamber. I however feel that we won’t have a problem getting their approval.”

“Why?” asked Severus, sitting with his feet propped up on an ottoman the deputy headmistress transfigured in front of her office desk. “They have enough disagreements over school finances without the idea of building another room into the foundations of the castle. I don’t think they will go for it that easily.”

“They will when Albus explains that you need a more proficient lab for your Potions research,” said Minerva. She took a short sip of tea, sighing away the heat of the liquid. “And besides, by that time, there may be even more reason for extra space. Rumor has it that there’s a certain new lady in your life, Severus.”

Severus growled deep in his throat. “If you say you heard that from Cassandra, I will kill her,” he said, but Minerva just laughed and waved him off.

“There is still a sense among some of the Wizarding world that you should be repaid for your actions during the war, and Albus tells me he will be all too quick to remind the governors of that. It won’t be until the summer until construction begins anyway. That is plenty of time to collect the funds.”

“Not to mention that we have Hagrid for cheap labor,” Remus’s light chuckle came from the other side of the room, where the sandy-haired professor stood watching a Hufflepuff Quidditch practice through the large windows. “I’m sure he would be happy to help if Albus asked him.”

“Of course he will,” said Minerva, herself chortling at the thought. “Severus will have already had the baby by then. Quite a few professors would likely want to give their input on the nursery.” The very prospect made Severus shake his head. He knew that the remainder of the faculty would eventually have to be told about his child, though not specifically about his pregnancy. But no matter what explanation they would get, the Potions master was not ready for the attention that would surely come along with it. Minerva, Pomona, and Poppy were nearly unbearable as it was. If someone like Cassandra were to be brought into the mix…oh, the horror! Severus quickly decided to put that harassment out of mind for the while. After all, it would be well into the summer before he would present his child to the world.

“I have been meaning to ask you, Severus. How have you been fairing the last few days?” Remus said as he turned his head to his Slytherin colleague.

“As well as I possibly can, Remus,” answered Severus with a certain honesty. The conversation with Draco had left his body weary and his emotions raw, and he had spent much of his time recently wondering what would become of his relationship with the boy in the coming months. And if that wasn’t enough, he had recently started to develop a nagging pain in his lower back that forced him off his feet several times during the day. It all made for quite a few tough, sleepless nights for the pregnant wizard.

“I do hope the children have not been giving you too much trouble,” Minerva told him. “I don’t know what you have said to Mister Malfoy, but I gave my four a firm talking-to. I don’t want any of them to be putting any stress on you for any reason.”

“Since when do you treat your Seventh years like they are still in primary school?” Severus halfheartedly sneered. He reached around his back to rub at a sore spot that was starting to bother him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Severus. I simply wanted to be sure that they understood the seriousness of the situation. They still seemed like they needed some adjusting, but I am fairly confident that they got the message.”

“You at least got through to Granger and Beckett. They have both been to see me since they found out.” Of course, Severus left out how Rose had been there with him in his quarters each night, helping to soothe away the tensions her friends had created.

“And Harry and Ron came to see me a few days ago,” Remus commented. “It was a right good shock we gave them, I have to say. I have never seen those boys so quiet in all the time I’ve known them.”

“If you ask me, they quieter they are, the better,” said Severus. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Granger has been trying to hush them up. Although, who knows how long that is going to last.”

“They will come around eventually, Severus,” said Minerva. “The shock has to wear off sometime. Once that happens, I am sure all five of them will be much more cooperative.”

_‘With me perhaps, but not with each other,’_ Severus mused to himself. He decided that he would rather not dwell on these unpleasant circumstances, and he politely dismissed the conversation and resettled into his uncomfortable wooden chair. Remus saw how he shifted in his seat, and he crossed the room toward Severus.

“Here, let me help,” he said. He brought forth his wand and set his sights on a pin cushion on Minerva’s desk, apparently left over from an earlier lesson. A swift flick transfigured it into a well-fluffed pillow, and Remus assisted Severus in easing it behind him. The Potions master sighed as he relaxed his back into the soft padding. Feeling rather pleased, Remus took a seat in the second chair that sat before Minerva’s desk.

“Here Severus, have a scone,” said Minerva, holding out a plate of the pastries. Severus reached out for one without even a hint of reluctance. “I had strawberry brought up especially for you. Albus tells me you have taken a liking to them recently.” Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling; he couldn’t keep one symptom to himself, could he?

“Yes, he doesn’t let anything slip his attention.” The pregnant wizard took his time to enjoy that first bite before speaking again. “He takes too much delight in these blasted food cravings, him and Pomona.”

“But cravings are normal,” Remus pointed out with a little laugh. Severus caught a snort in his throat before he muttered, “You haven’t seen the sort of things I bring back from the kitchens after dark.”

Minerva let out a chuckle in spite of herself. “While on the topic of your pregnancy, I suggest that you start putting together a list of what you will definitely need for the child. Pomona and Filius have both expressed interest in purchasing some items for the nursery, and it would help if they had an idea of what to look for. Perhaps some of the furniture we looked at in the village.”

“They don’t have to purchase anything,” said Severus, letting his pride get the better of him again.

“Nonsense,” said Remus. “Nobody can afford everything for a baby. Before Teddy was born, I almost lost my head when I realized how much stuff a newborn actually needs. I wonder sometimes how much more stuff we would have gotten if we had that baby shower like Andromeda suggested.” Minerva’s eyebrows perked up at that mention.

“Don’t go getting any bright ideas,” Severus warned with a low growl and a pointed finger.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear,” said Minerva with a crooked smile. “But don’t think you can stop us from giving you things. Think of it as a contribution to your child’s nursery as opposed to an actual gift. And it’s really for the baby anyway, so you don’t have to take it so personally.”

“It still makes it sound like you think I can’t handle myself,” said Severus, shaking his head. “I think Remus has been filling your heads with rubbish.”

“Never mind, Severus,” Remus laughed, waving him off. “I just had a thought. It’s a little random, forgive me, but has Poppy told you what you are having yet?”

“No,” said Severus, rather casually. “I prefer to wait and find out the old fashioned way. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Poppy from telling me her baseless guesses. She seems to believe that it’s a boy.”

“I don’t know about that.” Remus cocked his head as he stared at the pregnant man before him. He rested his chin in his hand, scratching at his light stubble. “Call it a hunch, but something tells me it’ll be a girl. I have a little bet going with Pomona and Filius, eight galleons so far.”

Severus sneered and turned to Minerva. “I don’t suppose you want to take a guess and get in on this wager.”

“No Severus, I’ll leave the gambling to others,” said the elderly witch, offering Severus a second scone, which he accepted. “I also prefer to find out on the big day. Having a child is one of the great surprises of life, and it shouldn’t be spoiled. I am curious however about whether you have any names picked out yet.”

Severus stopped chewing, if only to save himself from choking. He hadn’t even thought about names yet, but once again, everyone around him was demanding that he get everything all sorted out at once. It was cruel that every time he thought he had enough on his plate, someone would hand him another little tidbit for him to brood over. Crueler still was that people were trying to make conversation of his pregnancy after the distressing fiasco that ended with five traumatized teenagers being brought into the fray. Couldn’t they talk about something that wouldn’t make him remember their confounded glares or the words that followed? Was it too much to ask for a break, a little room to breathe for a day or two?

“I am taking my time with that decision,” he told Minerva, and he felt that odd sinking feeling in his chest. He could already tell that the rest of the afternoon would not be very easy. The baby gave him a soft stroke inside his belly, as though making an attempt to cheer its father up.

**~HP~**

In all the years that she had known them, Rose had never fully realized what a dreadful nuisance the Golden Trio could be. In the days following the accident in the dungeons, the redheaded witch had her hands full, attempting to stay on top of her friends’ manners as they tried to go about their business as usual. And in those days, she had hardened her tone more than a few times, and smacked the back of a few heads. It was frustrating to say the least, but it wasn’t like Rose could really blame them for any of it. Of all the things that they had done in their eventful lives, interacting with a pregnant man was not exactly the easiest.

It started with the staring. Every time Snape was in the room, three pairs of eyes were locked on him. Harry in particular had a habit of letting his gaze linger just a little too long on the Potions master, watching him from across the Great hall or over the top of his glasses while in lessons. All of them seemed to be attempting to look past those black robes, searching for that bulging abdomen, any physical sign of the child growing inside Snape. Weren’t they ever told how rude it was to stare at people like they were one of Hagrid’s pets? Several times, Rose found herself in the strange position of having to distract their attention away from Snape while they were in Potions class. Who would have ever thought that Harry or Ron could nearly ruin a brew because they were so focused on their sneering teacher? Of course, it might have been a little easier for the harried Rose if the rhetoric had been a little different. In those few days, the shock of Snape’s delicate condition had worn off, and the choice of words had gone from despicable to plain rude. It was business as usual for Hogwarts’ most famous heroes, just with a few cheeks about babies and childbearing thrown in. It was not uncommon to hear Harry and Ron snickering as the Potions master passed them by in the halls.

Rose could tell that all of this was starting to have an effect on Severus. He obviously did not like the extra unneeded attention, and it showed in his outward behavior. His eyes would shift about the room when they were around, and Rose noticed how he would tug at the hems of his robes, even though those blundering dunderheads couldn’t see the bump through his Glamour Charm. It also seemed to her that the added stress of Harry and the others knowing about the baby had made Severus’s mood-swings even more sudden, not to mention more violent. He could be perfectly content at the start of a lesson, optimistic even. But the second someone knocked an inkwell off their table, he would suddenly be off on a rage-filled rant that frequently ended with large numbers of house points being deducted. Poor Neville ended up taking the brunt of those attacks, though Severus never missed a chance to take a jab at Harry, Ron, even Hermione. Rose almost wished that he would take a bite out of her for a change to take the pressure off the others, but she then felt guilty when she realized Severus didn’t want to do that. No matter which way she approached it, she was wedged into a corner. She watched these wild turns from afar, wishing that there was some way she could help him in the moment. And at the end of each day, she would sneak down to the dungeons and find an utterly exhausted wizard curled up on the sofa.

As far as Rose was concerned, the sooner she got her friends on their side, the better!

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” Harry said to her, holding his sandwich up to his face. The two of them had retreated to the quiet of their common room after a morning Quidditch practice and decided to share an easy lunch while they waited for Ron and Hermione to come back from where ever it was they had escaped to for their romantic time together. “I don’t understand how we’re supposed to help Snape when all we’ve been doing is getting yelled at.”

“Well forgive me for taking Snape’s side, but you and Ron haven’t exactly been helping with all that talk you’ve been tossing around lately,” said Rose, speaking through a mouthful of ham and cheese. “I don’t think Snape would be so quick to get angry if you did what Hermione and I do and put a cork in it. Even Malfoy’s been unusually quiet lately, like he’s slunk back into his sad-sack routine. I think for once, you could do well to follow his example.”

“But what else are we supposed to do, Rose?” asked Harry. He paused abruptly as he waited for a Fourth year to cross the room and vanish up the steps to the dormitories. He listened for the echo of a door swinging shut, and then continued speaking. “What exactly are you supposed to say about a pregnant man? It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of ridiculous things. And after thinking I would lose my skin in Dumbledore’s office, I need a laugh. If we didn’t make a joke out of this mess, we’d go mad in a week.”

Rose shook her head, gently rubbing her temple. “Harry, I love you, I really do. But sometimes you can be so stupid. Haven’t you ever thought that might be adding to our problem? Did it ever occur to you that your joking might be a little offensive to Snape?”

“It’s not like we would be able to tell,” said Harry. “And besides, Snape’s been talked about and laughed at for as long as he’s been at Hogwarts. I figured he would be used to it by now. It’s no reason to go taking swings at us for no reason. He gets angry at the drop of a hat, it’s unreasonable!” Rose bit down on the inside of her lip, holding back the snide comment that she so wanted to give to Boy-wonder.

“He can’t control it, Harry,” she said, as calmly as she could. “Mood-swings are a natural part of pregnancy. If you ever want to be married one day, you’ll have to get used to it. What I’ve learned about Snape in the last few months is that it’s often better to let him get all of those wild emotions out, even if that means you have to be a punching bag for a while. Although, Hermione says it’s better for Snape’s unborn baby if he didn’t get so wound up in the first place.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “What am I supposed to do? I can hardly be sympathetic to someone who chews me up and then spits me back out.” He swallowed his last bite as Rose thought for a moment. She turned to better face the Head Boy and tucked her leg under her body.

“Well Harry, you have to try and see this from Snape’s point of view. We both know this isn’t an easy time for him, and us getting involved probably freaked him out. Can you imagine what that must feel like?”

“I guess…sort of…” Harry half-stammered before sighing heavily. “I don’t know.”

“Would you want to be stared at like you were some sort of science experiment?” asked Rose, cocking her head to the side. “Would you want people giggling behind your back? Think about that for a minute. Snape is a proud man, but he’s still human. He doesn’t take criticism lightly to begin with, and that’s probably doubled these days.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“What I mean is that he’s probably feeling very self-conscious these days. We know this pregnancy is unnatural, and so does he, except he’s the one that has to cope with it. I imagine that he’s pretty uncomfortable with his changing shape, the way his stomach is growing to accommodate the baby. He’s probably not as graceful as he once was, which has to be frustrating in itself. And as much as you and Ron joke about it, he’s probably very aware of his emotions. You know how Snape likes to stay in control of everything going on around him. That means he feels that he has to stay on top of those mood-swings to make sure that they don’t get any worse than they already are. Think about all that, Harry. Can you imagine what that does to a man?”

Harry blew out a breath, letting his body sink back into the sofa. Rose and Hermione had been telling him for days that he should be more considerate towards Snape. But now that Rose had laid out what Hermione had obviously hesitated to explain, he felt an odd twinge in his stomach. It dawned on him that there could not be a more emasculating experience for a man than to be pregnant. If he were in Snape’s place, he would probably feel insecure too. Alright, so Rose had a point. But he couldn’t exactly shut up about this whole mess. And weren’t they supposed to be watching Snape anyway? At this point, Harry was wondering what Dumbledore meant when he said he wanted them to be more involved because none of them really wanted to interact with the hormonal git, and yet giving him space wasn’t really working either.

“I suppose I could lay off the staring…though I can’t really see how.” He looked over at Rose in time to see her roll her blue eyes. “You know Rose, you are taking all this way too easily. Sure, you get drunk that first night, but then you go on like nothing is wrong. What’s that all about?”

“At one time, I joked about men giving birth before I knew it was real,” said Rose. “And for the record, I wasn’t drunk. Look Harry, I don’t know why I’m not falling over myself in shock or babbling nonsense like you and Ron. All I know is that I care about Snape, his unborn baby, and their wellbeing. Call me mad all you want, but I’m willing to do whatever I can to help my favorite professor through this difficult time, at least to make up for all the trouble I caused him last term.”

Harry shook his head with a low titter. “You’re right, you are mad. But you know what? You might be admirably mad. And I guess one of us needs to be able to communicate with the old bat. We wouldn’t want McGonagall harping at us over that.” Rose just shook her head with a smirk, tucking the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth.

**~HP~**

That night, Rose was anxious to get down to the dungeons. Besides the fact that she was knee-deep in Transfiguration homework that she was desperate to get away from, she had heard that Severus had a rough day with some belligerent First years. And this was actually quite literal; she could hear her boyfriend’s snarls echoing up from the castle’s lower levels as she walked to Lupin’s classroom. A few people had laughed about it, but Rose for her part remained decidedly silent. She hadn’t seen Severus since her own lessons, and now her maternal instincts and overall desire for him were driving her to the Potions master’s side.

In her hands, she carried a little treat she had stolen from the kitchens on the way down. If a few chocolate-covered strawberries didn’t cure a bad day for her pregnant lover, she didn’t know what would.

The wards opened under her hand, and Rose quietly crept into Severus’s quarters. She expected to find her Slytherin lover in his usual spot on the sofa, but she turned around to find herself in a totally empty sitting room. Rose’s flaxen brow wrinkled in confusion; he should be here by now. She was thinking about turning back to check Severus’s office when she heard a sound coming from the direction of the bedroom. Clutching the little box of strawberries, Rose tiptoed over to the door, opened so that only a sliver of light escaped from within.

“You in there, Sev?” she called. But before she could crack an impish smile, she heard what sounded disturbingly like a racking gasp. Feeling the instant rush of worry, Rose dashed forward and pushed the door open, nearly stumbling over as she entered the bedchamber.

Severus was sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands as he hunched in over himself. At the sound of the door creaking open, he looked up, and Rose’s heart sank into her stomach when she saw the wet marks of the tears that ran down his pale face. Rose had only enough sense to set her box down on the bedside table before approaching the distraught wizard.

“Severus, what’s wrong?” she asked, sitting down beside Severus and grasping his upper arm. She leaned forward to get a better look at those weary ebony eyes, even as her lover turned his head away.

“Nothing,” croaked Severus. He shifted in his seat and turned his body away from Rose, much to the Gryffindor’s dismay. He then brought up a hand to muffle the sobs that were forcing their way out.

“Looks to me like a whole lot of nothing.” Rose reached out to wipe away the tears, but Severus pulled away and crawled over to the other side of the bed. Rose did the same, slowly inching closer on her hands and knees before settling down on top of her legs. She stared for a moment at Severus. He was laid out on the bed, a hand atop his swollen abdomen, clutching the sheets as he continued to weep into the pillow. Rose swallowed hard, feeling a knot in her chest. “Come on, Severus. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Severus whimpered, attempting to wipe the tearstains from his face. “I just want to be alone.”

“But I haven’t seen you in hours,” said Rose. She glanced over Severus at the other nightstand, seeing the apparent evidence of the Slytherin’s prolonged solitude. An open jar of strawberry jam had a spoon sticking out of the glass rim, red smears from obvious scraping along the half-empty inside edges. And beside that was a plate of what looked suspiciously like – “Is that bacon?”

“Rose!” moaned Severus. “Just go away! I don’t care if you wait outside all night, just leave me alone.”

“And leave you like this? I don’t think so.” Rose came up behind Severus and snuggled close, gently rubbing his arm. Severus buried his face in the pillow, almost in an attempt to smother himself. Though she herself was being tied up in knots at the sight of her strong lover so upset without having a clue why, Rose kept her own strength in her attempts to soothe him. “It’s okay, love.”

“No, it’s not. Nothing is okay, Rose, so don’t talk like it is.”

“How long have you been like this?” asked Rose, hearing the audible rasp in Severus’s deep voice.

“I don’t know,” said Severus. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Once I started, I just couldn’t stop.”

“Oh Sev,” Rose crooned, suddenly realizing this was another mood-swing wreaking havoc on Severus’s emotions. She let out a soft, relieved sigh; for a moment there, she was worried it there was something wrong with the baby. Feeling a little bit better, Rose turned her attention back to comforting Severus, stroking the side of his face, brushing locks of his hair away from his wet eyes. “What happened, love?”

Severus shifted his eyes to her briefly, but then resettled into the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it might help you feel better. Severus, if you can’t talk to me about it, then who can you talk to?” The young witch leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lover’s temple. “Come now, tell Rosie everything.” Again, Severus looked up at Rose with a deeply miserable gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a heavy sigh. He looked to the other side of the room, and Rose heard him hiccup. Finally, Severus took in a slow, shaky breath.

“I’m podgy.”

“What?!” gasped Rose, an odd tweak tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Who told you that?”

“I overheard a bunch of First years talking about me. They’ve never seen me without the charm in place, but they said it was showing in my face. I tried to ignore them, but when I came back here and got a look at myself in the mirror, I saw that they were right.”

Rose shook her head, her brow wrinkling. It was true that Severus’s features had filled out considerably with his advancing pregnancy, but all it had done was make him look healthy. The same was true for that Glamour Charm on his abdomen. If Rose hadn’t seen the swell of his baby-bump underneath those robes, she would have simply assumed that Severus was eating better and leading a better lifestyle. “Aw Severus, you’re not podgy. You’re having a baby.”

“Even so, you should be the one telling me that I am letting myself go,” Severus groaned. “You see it more than anyone else.”

“And you think that matters to me?” asked Rose. “Come on, you know that any weight you put on is better for the baby. And bugger what those First years say! You don’t need me to tell you this, love. First years…are… _stupid!”_

“But what if they’re right?” cried Severus, fresh tears running down his cheek. “You say that my weight doesn’t matter to you now, but what of tomorrow, or the next day? What if some studly young Quidditch star comes along, and you prefer him to a sallow, overweight git?”

Rose might as well have run herself into a brick wall. She was astonished that Severus could think of something like that, and it showed in her face. Her fair eyebrows were painfully contorted, and her lips struggled to mouth some incoherent babble. “Who said anything about me and a Quidditch star?”

“Oh, as if you don’t notice those men in _Witch Weekly_.” It was then that Rose turned her head and saw the torn up copy of the women’s magazine in the waste basket. It was the newly released issue; Rose had gotten her copy that morning at breakfast. Severus must have taken it off of another student sometime earlier, she thought to herself. But of course, she then realized that Severus would have seen the pages filled with images of the young and celebrated Keepers and Chasers of Ireland and Wales. Rose sighed; no wonder Severus was feeling particularly self-conscious tonight.

“Is that what this is about? Severus, I’m not sleeping with any of those guys,” she carefully explained. “Nor do I want to. No one on this earth could make me randy like you do.”

“For how long?” asked Severus, pushing himself up into a seated position. Rose reached out and gently rubbed circles into her lover’s belly. “Tonight, tomorrow, the next day, the day after that…you could be nine months pregnant and I’d still want you.” Severus’s face twisted up before he hid behind his hand and started bawling again. It suddenly occurred to Rose this was not a good time to remind Severus of where his figure would eventually end up. Another approach was called for.

“Think of it this way,” she said, pepping up her tone a bit. “When girls my age call another girl fat, it’s because they think they themselves are fat, and they just want to boost up their own confidence. The same could be true for you.” Rose reached over and grasped the jar of jam on the side table. She spooned out a dollop of the jiggling red substance. “Don’t listen to any of them, Sev. No matter what people say, you are still a dashing, handsome man in my eyes. You shouldn’t even worry about people commenting on your weight with that wicked charm of yours. Not to mention that those of us who actually see your tummy can’t talk about it. And if all else fails, remember that you’ll be back to normal once you have your baby. Now come on, have some more jam.” She held the spoon out to Severus.

“Please Rose, don’t,” Severus pleaded through his tears. “I know you’re trying, but it’s not really helping.”

“No?” asked Rose, lowering her hand. “There has to be something I can do. I could run us a bath if you would –,”

“You don’t understand, Rose. Nothing helps.” Another sob escaped the disheveled pregnant wizard. Rose leaded forward and stroked the pale skin of Severus’s cheek, speaking in almost a whisper. “What else is bothering you, love? Tell me everything.”

“The question should be what isn’t bothering me,” said Severus, getting more hysteric with every breath. “Everything is falling apart, Rose. I had everything under control until this week! I’ve got students who are running their mouths about me when they have no right, and I have no real way to defend myself. I have Potter and his band of cretins who can’t keep their eyes or their thoughts to themselves, and then Draco whose loyalty to me is being vastly overridden by his loathing for you and the others. Now I have colleagues treating me as though my child will come tomorrow! They’re harassing me, Rose! If it’s not how I should start setting up a nursery, it’s how I should be thinking about names, or some other way I have to set my affairs in order before I give birth! All I ask for is that I get the chance to escape for a while. But apparently, I can’t even do that! Not with these aching pains in my back or these bizarre cravings that I so badly want to act on, but I can’t in front of everyone because they would then have another reason to smother me with their cheeky little comments! You really want to do something for me? You could figure out a way to stop time in its tracks so I can have a chance to get my head back on straight because I’m about to go mad!”

At that, Severus crumbled into a fit of racking sobs. Rose sat with her eyes wide and her jaw hanging open. At a complete loss for words, all Rose could think to do was to crawl forward and wrap her arms around Severus, holding him as closely as she could. Severus melted into the tightness of her embrace, his trembling hand gripping her back as he rested against her shoulder. He could feel Rose’s fingers running through his lank hair soothingly, allowing him to continue his meltdown.

“Shhh,” Rose whispered, listening to the awful sound of her beloved’s low whimpers. “You’re not going mad, Severus. This is just your hormones meddling with your mind.”

“I’m so tired of it all, Rosie,” moaned Severus. “For once, can’t I have something in my life where nothing goes wrong? Is that too much to ask?”

“What about us?” Rose was starting to feel her lover’s tears seeping through her shirt. “There’s nothing wrong with our relationship.”

“Except for the fact that our romance only lives in deep hiding. For all the fuss that they make, I can’t even show them the true depth of the happiness you have brought to my life.”

It was quickly dawning on Rose that she was losing this uphill struggle. Severus was not really listening to a thing she was saying, not even attempting to calm himself down. And to Rose, a young woman who had known many emotions and breakdowns, it seemed that the only and best thing for them now was to let the wretched wizard cry himself out. A man could only keep his troubles bottled up for so long before they needed to be released.

“It’s okay, just let it all out, love,” she hummed, rubbing comforting circles into Severus’s back. The pregnant man wept harder. “There, there…you know, my father once said to me that tears were the mark of weakness. Of course, I know now that you have to have a heart of stone to actually live by that.”

“I don’t deserve you, Rose,” sniveled Severus. “How can you even stand me?”

Rose sighed softly into her lover’s ear. “Oh, don’t talk like that, Severus. I stand by you because I love you, you know that. My affections for you are the greatest I’ve ever known. Nothing could possibly make me turn away from you, especially now. The world might seek to drive you crazy, but you always have me to lean on at the end of the day. I don’t mind it at all.”

The shaking slowly became small shudders, and Severus brought his face up to look Rose in her blue eyes. The young witch looked into empty, forlorn black pools for a bare minute before she raised her hands to caress the sides of Severus’s face. She offered up a warm, compassionate smile before kissing Severus with every bit of passion she felt for him. She then helped the exhausted man ease down onto the bed, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder. Severus drew a shaky breath as Rose used her thumb to wipe away his tears.

“I definitely don’t deserve you,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Nonsense,” tittered Rose. “If there’s anyone who’s deserving of such boundless affection, it’s you.”

“Then why don’t I feel it?”

“You will, one day soon, you will. Like I said, your moods will set themselves right eventually.”

“You mean if I don’t completely lose my mind before term ends?” said Severus. Rose laughed at hearing the familiar sarcasm starting to return to the Potions master’s tone.

“I doubt that will happen, love. I think Dumbledore would throw himself off the Astronomy tower again before he lets that happen. And even so, you’ll still have me. We all care about you, Sev, and we will go to the ends of the earth to help make your life something worth living.” Rose flinched slightly when Severus let out a soft gasp, his hand flying up to his stomach. She looked down at this and smiled as she leaned forward toward that rounded bump. “I think the little one agrees with me. Daddy has had himself enough for one night, hasn’t he?”

“Stop that, Rosie,” said Severus, coaxing her back up to his head. “You know that it can’t understand a word you say.”

“Never mind, Severus, I shall keep my humor to the last.” Rose peered over at the plate of bacon on the table. A silent charm saw it carefully floated over to her waiting hand. “For the child’s sake, one of us has to stay sane.” She crunched down on a slice of bacon. She noticed the look on Severus’s face, and she held the plate out to him, allowing him to indulge in his slightly strange hungers in her presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not resist it. I could not resist such a cliche pregnancy story scene. I'm sorry if it got a little bit ooc for a bit there. Let me know what you thought about it otherwise!


	57. Unwelcome surprises

Severus sat up, buttoning his shirt as he watched Poppy write something out in his medical files. The look on her face was nothing but smug, having just completed another successful examination on her most unwilling patient. She was pleased to report that Severus was gaining weight at a much steadier rate, though Severus would rather she kept that little tidbit to herself. After losing control of his feelings so ingloriously and crying for hours on end, he really didn’t need another reason for that to happen again. Honestly, he was still apologizing to Rose for that nonsense! And there weren’t enough chocolate-covered strawberries in the castle to remedy every single mood-swing.

He had finished doing up his frock coat and was about to recast his Glamour Charm when Poppy suddenly turned to him. “Severus, before you go, might I ask you one more question?”

“Yes Poppy?” said Severus, arching a dark eyebrow.

“I have been thinking about something I heard the other day,” Poppy began, sitting down in a chair by the bed where Severus was seated. “How has your sexual desire been in the last few weeks?”

“As well as it can be at five and a half months pregnant. Why do you ask?”

Poppy let the corners of her mouth tug into a smirk. “I was originally going to say that if you notice an increase in libido, then that is normal. However, the color that is creeping into your face seems to tell a different story.” Severus looked to the other side of the room, careful to avoid the Mediwitch’s eyes.

“Well, let’s just say that I have had a bit more reason to indulge in some sexual fantasy lately.”

“So it is true?”

Severus’s gaze was drawn back by the sudden perk in Poppy’s voice. “Is what true?”

“That loose talk I heard from our colleagues that you have a new girlfriend,” the nurse clarified. “What they said is true, isn’t it?”

“Why do I tell anyone anything?” Severus muttered, rolling his eyes. “Can’t a secret just stay a secret? Alright Poppy, yes, I am seeing someone.”

“Well, I’ll be…” mused Poppy, her smile somewhere between amused and oddly excited. “How long have you two been dating?”

“A while, a little over a month I would say.”

“And why hasn’t she been around these parts?”

“Because she doesn’t need to be.” Severus started to get a little more of a stern warning in his deep tone, letting Poppy know that this was not a good topic for light chatter. “Enlighten me, what does this have to do with anything?”

“Forgive me, dear,” said Poppy. “But given our circumstances, it is imperative that I ask you. Have you and your lady-friend made love at all in the time that you have been together?”

Severus jerked his head back at the question. “Poppy, there are many things that I would say are none of your concern, but that goes too far even for you.”

“Just answer the question, Severus,” Poppy said after a hard sigh.

“Alright, alright, yes! We are two consenting adults, we had sex at our own accord and agreement, there is nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m not saying that there is,” the Mediwitch shook her head. “I merely wish to know if the two of you were protected when you had relations with her.” The pregnant Potions master couldn’t help but catch a snort in his throat.

“Protected?” he said. “No, why?”

Upon hearing this, Poppy’s face suddenly hardened. Her brow wrinkled to shadow her slowly widening eyes, and her lips started to purse together. “Severus, why aren’t you and your girlfriend using protection?” The tone in her voice made Severus feel as though he was fourteen again and being scolded.

“I think this is protection enough,” he said, running his hand down the curve of his swelling belly. But Poppy shook her head sharply. “No, it’s not.”

Severus raised his eyebrow, feeling a slight sinking in his stomach. “Poppy, what are you talking about?”

“When was the last time she had her menstrual period?” asked Poppy, causing Severus to throw his hands up in a shrug.

“I don’t know! She doesn’t tell me those things!” he groaned. As well as he knew Rose, and even though they told each other everything there was to know, there were some very certain things about Rose that Severus wanted nothing to do with. There may come a time when her biological clock would come into play, but for now, Severus was perfectly happy to remain as blissfully unaware of her cycle as any other woman’s.

Poppy clicked her tongue at him. “Well, if I were you, I would find that out.”

“Why?” asked Severus.

“Because if she’s late, I would strongly recommend that she take a pregnancy test.”

“What?!” The Potions master felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He shook his head, eyes shooting open. “But…but I thought…”

“You thought what?” asked the elderly witch across from him. Severus swallowed hard, knowing that this was one of those rare moments where he would have to show his own foolishness.

“I thought that my own pregnancy would prevent that.”

“Severus,” said Poppy, speaking slowly so that she might be perfectly understood. “I’m sorry to say this, but that is just not the case. The curse that enables your pregnancy only gave you the ability to bear a child of your own body, and it only gave you the parts necessary for that. It has absolutely no effect on your existing male reproductive system.”

“So…so that means I can still –,”

“Yes Severus, you can still get a woman pregnant.”

In his head, Severus was screaming to the high heavens. How the hell could he have not thought of something like that?! How could Rose?! In all the times they had made love, not once did the topic of birth control come up. Given her long period of singlehood before getting involved with Severus, it was doubtful that Rose was taking anything herself. Perhaps she was under the same impression as Severus, that she could not conceive while he was with child. Severus had heard of these cases of collective negligence, but he never imagined that he would end up in the middle of one himself, nor Rose. And now because of their reckless stupidity, they could have gotten themselves into more trouble than they could have ever imagined for their young romance.

Good lord, Rose could be pregnant, and they did nothing to prevent it!

“What should I do?” he asked, his voice a near-panicked hush.

“I suggest that you contact her as soon as you can and alert her of the possibility, if she has not already thought of it herself,” said Poppy. “I should tell you that your hormone levels have had their effect on your sperm numbers, but just because you are producing less doesn’t mean there is less of a risk.”

“But what if –,”

“I’m sure it will be alright, dear.” Poppy leaned forward to rest a hand on Severus’s arm. “It may turn out that we have nothing to worry about. But as they say, it is better to be safe than sorry.”

**~HP~**

Severus hurried as much as he could through the halls, not fast enough to show his increasing anxiety, but with a certain hast that told of the importance of his situation. He had never been in such a massive hurry to find Rose. Just as Poppy had suggested, Severus realized that it was his duty to inform her of that shocking prospect as soon as humanly possible. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Rose’s reaction to the idea that she might be carrying his second child, but the faster that he got to her, the sooner they could find out, and hopefully, the faster they could put this behind them. What time was it, one o’clock? Severus took a fair guess as to where his young Gryffindor girlfriend might have wandered off to, and immediately headed in that direction.

It turned out that he was correct, and he found Rose in the library, sitting at a table with Potter and his cohorts. The four of them seemed to be engrossed in their various homework assignments, each one skimming through a hefty book. Severus straightened his back and approached the little group.

“Miss Beckett,” he affirmatively said. Rose looked up from her book, and Severus saw how her eyes instantly lit. She quickly remembered however that she was in her friends’ presence, and she shook her senses back. They were teacher and student right now after all.

“Yes Professor?” Rose tried her best to use the same casual tone she used when she spoke in class.

“I hate to interrupt, but I must speak to you for a moment. Come with me.”

“Yes sir,” said Rose, closing her book. She gathered the remainder of her things, stood up, and then turned to her friends. “I’ll see you later.” They nodded their hesitant understanding, and Rose followed Severus back into the halls.

The couple was completely silent as they walked through the many corridors and down the stairs, keeping an equally calm demeanor. But once they reached the more relative safety of the dungeons, their pace quickened. Their eyes peeled for students and ghosts, Severus quickly led Rose through the cold, dank darkness to the Potions classroom. He shut the door behind them upon their entry. “Get in my office!” he hissed. Rose dashed over and pushed the aging door open. Severus followed close behind, and he further shut them in once they were both in that tiny room. Hidden safely away from the world again, he promptly collapsed against the wall, a hand on his chest as he gasped for air.

“Sev, what’s wrong?” asked Rose, dropping her things onto one of the chairs and rushing over to him. “Are you okay? Is the baby?”

“I’m fine, Rose. I just need to sit down for a while.” Severus eased down into the unoccupied chair while Rose summoned a glass of water for him. He took it from her with an appreciative smile and he sipped generously. “Merlin, I’m out of shape.”

“I believe the phrase is with child,” said Rose. She knelt down by Severus’s leg and rested her hand on his knee. “So what did you need to talk to me about? You know I have that essay on Muggle weaponry due on Monday.”

“When was the last time you menstruated?”

Rose looked at Severus as though the Potions master had sprouted horns and grown a second head. “Pardon me?” she said. “Sev, I love you – you’re my world, but I’m not sure if I’m required to tell you _that_ exactly.”

“Seriously Rose,” urged Severus. “It’s important that I know this. When was your last menstrual period?”

“I don’t know, last month?” Rose shrugged her shoulders, her fair brow wrinkling as she tried to remember the exact date of the last time that blasted curse inflicted her. Severus could feel his pulse increasing.

“Have you had it yet this month?” he asked. Rose shook her head. “No, not yet.” Evidently to her, that was not what Severus wanted to hear because she noticed him swallow.

“Well…when would you ordinarily expect it?”

“Severus,” Rose suddenly spoke, her tone tightening. “What are you playing at? What’s happened that you need to know?”

“Rose, please!” barked Severus, and Rose growled. “Alright, I’m a week late! But it’s happened before; it’s been a stressful week for me. I ask again, why?”

Alright, this was it! Severus looked down at Rose’s tense face, the cold blue in her eyes piercing right through him. He realized that in his beating around the bush, Rose might have already guessed what this was about; she wasn’t naïve after all. But she seemed no more inclined to say it than he was. That made looking into those anxious eyes even worse. The last thing he ever wanted to do was upset Rose, but he would rather have her angry at him for a few days than lose her and another potential child because of his own foolishness.

“I saw Madam Pomfrey earlier this morning,” he began. “It seems she heard from other members of the staff that I was seeing someone. And in her way of sticking her nose into everyone’s business, she asked me if I was having sex. When I told her that I was, she asked me if we were using protection.”

“Why would she ask that?” asked Rose, almost with an air of blunt blatancy.

“She asked that because she wanted to inform me that it was still necessary that we use protection…more specifically, contraception.”

Severus felt the hand on his knee tense up sharply, and Rose’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “You…you don’t mean…”

“I do,” whispered Severus, his throat drying up. Rose moved on her knees until she was right in front of him. “Severus, if this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny.”

“Does it sound like I’m joking?”

Rose’s mouth fell open as she stood up, gesturing toward Severus’s charmed and concealed stomach. “But…I thought…I thought that I couldn’t get pregnant because you were!”

“I thought the same,” said Severus. “Apparently, the spell only enables me to carry a child, without changing my existing body.”

“It doesn’t change your reproductive system? You can still produce sperm?”

“My condition might have reduced my sperm count, but evidently, it didn’t wipe them out entirely.”

That was when Rose started to panic. She started pacing the length of the room, waving her hands in an attempt to fan herself. “Oh shit!” she gasped. “Shit, shit, shit! This can’t be happening!” Severus got to his feet and stopped Rose in her tracks. He cupped the sides of her distressed face in his hands.

“Rose, it’s going to be okay,” he tried to say as calmly as he could manage.

“Okay?!” snapped Rose. “Severus, I could be pregnant! How is that okay?!”

“I know, I know, you’re scared. You would be a fool if you weren’t.”

“Oh god!” Rose wailed as she fell into Severus’s arms. She pressed her eyes shut, squeezing out a tear that dripped down her cheek. “What are we going to do?”

Severus stared into Rose’s eyes, seeing that there was more to this fear than inconvenience. Rose had been raised with certain values, and her life experiences had only made them more important. She knew well that she didn’t have to keep a pregnancy. But Severus knew that she wouldn’t terminate one if she was being forced. She had already made up her mind, and now she was looking to him for guidance.

“We’ll be alright, Rose,” he said, tenderly stroking her hair. “We can get through this…we can get through this together.”

“I can’t go ask Madam Pomfrey for the test,” said Rose. “If it’s positive, she would have to tell McGonagall.”

“If it were positive, you would likely have to tell someone at some time,” Severus thought out loud. “But Rose, don’t you see? Madam Pomfrey’s tests are done with potions.”

“And your point is?” Rose asked, her voice tensing.

“Where do you think she gets those potions?”

Rose stared at Severus for a second or two before the meaning of that statement knocked her upside the head. She smacked her forehead with a forged gasped. “Oh, of course! You mean you have them?”

“I have a small amount.” Severus glanced over at his desk, more specifically at the clock resting on the surface. “How long do you have?”

“An hour, maybe an hour and a half.”

“We’ll do it right now.”

Severus went right over to the cabinet at the side of his office and started to rummage through the seemingly endless number of bottles he kept in there. He stopped only to tell Rose to go to the bookcase and find the book on basic fertility potions. He turned back to the cabinet, his heart rushing as he tried to find those damned potions. He finally found them in one of the drawers, and he brought them over to the table beside the storeroom door. Rose soon came back to him, the book in her hands. She set it down on the table and stepped back to let Severus work.

Once he had found the proper page, Severus read the incantations transcribed on the old, stained parchment as he poured out what little he had of the main potion into a small beaker. “This is but a fraction of the amount Pomfrey used when confirming my pregnancy,” he told Rose. “She had to take enough blood from me to fill a syringe. But as this is a more concentrated form, only a few drops of yours will be necessary.”

He brought forth his wand and summoned what turned out to be nothing more than a sewing needle. Holding it carefully in his fingers, he held it out for Rose to take. Rose understood what it was that Severus wanted her to do, and she took the needle with a trembling hand. She too then approached the table, and with a nervous inhale, she stabbed the tip on her index finger. She squeezed it slightly over the beaker, letting four drops fall into the crystal clear liquid, staining it upon impact. Rose then retreated back to the corner, sucking on her bleeding finger.

She couldn’t look while Severus finished running the test. She instead chose to listen the clinking of glass upon glass, and the low, melodic sound of Severus’s voice as he spoke the spells described in the book. But just when she thought she had her nerves under control, fear suddenly gripped her heart again. She looked up just as Severus added a drop of a second liquid, and she watched the beaker closely. The cloudy pinkish-red color faded to a pale white.

“Well?” she asked in a whisper. Severus looked up at her and let out a deep sigh.

“It’s negative,” he said. “You’re not pregnant.”

Rose sighed dramatically, dropping down to the floor like her legs had abruptly given out. “Oh thank God!” she gasped. “Oh, that was too close!”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Severus, standing over Rose’s huddled form. He didn’t dare to kneel down to her level; at this point in his pregnancy, he would run the risk of not being able to get back up again.

“I feel horrible now.” Rose shook her head as she stared down at the floor. “My mother always lectured me about the importance of protection…although she would rather I did what she did, save myself until marriage and then conceive on the first try. I can’t believe I never once thought about it in all the times we’ve had sex.”

“Believe me, Rose. No one feels more foolish than I do at the moment. It was my ignorance that led to this mess, and I could have gotten you into some real trouble. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sev,” said Rose. She stood up again and took Severus’s hand in hers. “We just have to be more careful from now on. I could watch my cycle a little more carefully, and it’s not that difficult to find condoms in the dormitories.”

“Actually Rose, there is another option,” said Severus. He guided her over to the table, and once again flipped through the pages of the potions book. He turned it to Rose so that she could read it. “There is a potion that witches use to protect themselves from conceiving. Properly brewed, it can prevent pregnancy for a full thirty days, and its failure rate is virtually nonexistent. And what’s more is that it is a fairly simple concoction to those of our skill level. You would have no trouble brewing it for yourself.”

Rose ran her fingers over the printed words, reading the instructions for this birth control brew. “It seems practical. But Severus, what if I mess it up somehow and I get pregnant? I doubt you would want to worry about another child when you already have one on the way.”

“Do you doubt your abilities that much?”

“Well – well no.” Rose walked over to the empty wingchair and sat down. “I just can’t bear the idea of this happening again. I can’t saddle you with a second child before you’ve had your first.”

“It won’t happen again, Rose,” said Severus. “All you need to do is learn how to make the potion, and then take it on the first of each month, both of which I am sure you are more than capable of. And just for the record, if you had been pregnant, I would have welcomed that child just as much as the one I carry.”

“I still don’t want it to happen though,” said Rose.

“Well, you still have an hour before you have to go.” Severus took her hand and brought her over to the cauldron on the table. “Let me show you how it’s done so that you might be able to do it yourself next time.”

**~HP~**

Severus was right to say that the potion ( _Conceptio Impedio_ it was called, though Rose continued to jokingly refer to it as the birth-control brew) was simple enough to make. In the hour that Rose had available, Severus had it brewed, cooled, and bottled, the young Gryffindor at his side the entire time, watching and learning. He had her drink that first dose at once; given that it was late into the month, he chose to brew a potion with a shorter working time, around two weeks. Severus then went on to explain the difference between the two potions and their makeups. Rose ended up leaving the dungeons with detailed instructions on how to brew the full thirty day potion, as well as guidelines about when to take each dose. She then retreated to her dormitory to sort out her jittery emotions. By the time she rejoined her friends that afternoon, she showed hardly any signs of her little near miss.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight, Rose,” Harry commented at dinner. “What happened with Snape earlier? What did he say to you?”

Rose, who had been enjoying a fine piece of roast chicken, paused just as she was lifting her fork up to her mouth. She briefly glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye before she carried on eating. “I…uh…he merely wanted to speak to me about my potential working situations. I recently asked him if he would be willing to write a letter of recommendation should I decide to apply for a Ministry position. He wanted to tell me that he would do that when he has the time.”

“He had to take you away just to tell you that?” said Ron, reaching for a helping of steamed carrots.

“He wanted to tell me while it was on his mind,” Rose falsely explained. “I don’t think he wanted to show so much favor for a Gryffindor in front of everyone, especially you three.” Ron snickered in between meaty bites. As if Snape could get any more rigid and difficult over his behavior toward them.

“How was he feeling, Rose?” asked Hermione, careful in her choice of words as she spoke from across the Gryffindor table. “Did he seem well?”

“He seemed alright to me.” Rose looked up to the head table, where Severus sat between Lupin and McGonagall. She immediately regretted that as soon as she turned back and got a gander at Hermione’s face. That knowing little smile and the twinkle in her eye proved that the Head Girl was becoming more like Lavender with each passing day. Starting to feel undoubtedly uncomfortable, Rose quickly changed the subject to a story she had read in the sporting section of that morning’s _Prophet_ , letting Harry and Ron distract them from any further mention of the pregnant Potions master.

Up at the head table, Severus was trying his best to ignore any mentions of his name.

His way of dealing with the shock of his and Rose’s pregnancy scare was to retract from public view, choosing to recover in the privacy his office had to offer. The time alone did help to prevent another stress-related mood-swing, but Minerva did comment upon seeing him that he looked the slightest bit peaky. That alone was enough to make Severus want to turn back around and take his meal in his quarters. But that would only make his colleagues worry. But of course, what was the point in that if they were just going to worry anyway?

“Are you sure you’re alright, Severus?” asked Remus, spooning some more mashed potatoes onto the Potions master’s plate.

“Don’t get your wand in a knot, Remus,” Severus droned, allowing the silent prodding for him to eat more. “I’m just a little tired tonight, that’s all.” He carefully poured some gravy over his potatoes and dug in slowly. Satisfied with what he saw, Remus turned back to his own meal, listening to Cassandra talk into his ear about some new Ministry policy that was being put up for a vote in the coming weeks.

Everyone was nearly finished eating when there was the sudden sound of McGonagall tapping the side of her glass goblet. Taking mental notes of what had been going on in their respective conversations, students looked up to the head table, where Dumbledore was already rising from his chair. It seemed that the staff didn’t have much more of a clue what this was about, if the looks on their faces were anything to judge.

“If I could have a moment of your time, I have announcement to make,” the headmaster spoke up in his calm, yet remarkable projected voice. “I understand that many of you will read this in the _Daily Prophet_ in the coming days, but I couldn’t resist the urge to inform you beforehand. This morning, I received a letter from the Ministry of Magic. They have spent a great deal of their time reviewing testimony of people’s actions during the war against Lord Voldemort, and after what I understand to be much deliberation, they have reached what I believe to be the perfect decision. I am delighted to announce that our very own Severus Snape, for his deeds of great heroism and immeasurable courage, has been awarded the Order of Merlin, first class!”

Gasps filled the Great hall, some shocked, others surprised. Down the table, Flitwick was coughing up a sprout he had accidently swallowed, and Cassandra was helping Remus to dab the splashes of red wine from his mustache. Severus sat frozen in place, his eyes wide with his goblet mere inches from his face. Only when he noticed the curious stares on either side of his chair did he crane his neck over to shoot a stunned glare at Albus. “What?” he mouthed.

“Yes, for all the pomp and circumstance of bureaucracy, it seems the Ministry agrees with me that those deserving of regard should be given their dues, no matter how long it takes to make up their minds. I hope you all join me in congratulating Professor Snape on this prestigious honor.”

The Slytherins were obviously the first to react, rising to their feet and bursting into applause before the elderly headmaster could start clapping. Over at the Gryffindor table, Rose had also stood up, her eyes and her smile equally bright. Harry looked up at her for a moment, a look of reflection etched into his face. But then he too rose to lead his house in applause. Seeing this, the remaining Seventh years joined them, and the cheering quickly spread out to the other houses.

Severus stared out over the sea of students, at a loss for words. He saw how his little snakes threw all their energy into commending him. He saw how Potter and Rose led the way for everyone else. And he saw how there was not one shred of disgust or animosity in their faces. They actually looked pleased with what they had just heard, like they totally agreed with Dumbledore. This didn’t make sense…this just didn’t make sense.

There was a time when Severus thought he would have to die to be given such an award. A former Death Eater should not be looked at with such high esteem, bestowed such honor. And after eight months of watching other people being honored for far less worthy actions, Severus was convinced that it wouldn’t happen for him. Not that he hoped it would happen in the first place; his actions were based solely on his need to avenge Lily’s memory. Glory was the last thing on his mind when he penetrated the Dark Lord’s ranks on Dumbledore’s request.

The ovation died down after a few moments, and the young and annoying went back to their meals and chatter. Severus didn’t move, still a little stunned. But he was shaken back to the here and now when Remus clapped on the shoulder. “Congratulations Severus,” he said with a smile. “You couldn’t deserve it more.”

“You could have given me a little bit of warning,” Severus addressed Albus, leaning over for the headmaster to hear.

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that, my dear boy?” said Albus, his eyes twinkling in that characteristic, terrifically annoying way.

“You think it’s fun to put people on the spot out of the clear blue?”

“And what is that you think you do in your lessons?” Minerva asked as she turned a sarcastic eyebrow to the Potions master. “You really do deserve it, Severus. This is just the Ministry catching up to what we all have been saying for months now.”

“As if we need Ministry confirmation for everything,” Severus sneered, weakly at best. Feeling the awkwardness of being the center of attention setting in, he turned his attention back to his half-empty plate for the remainder of dinner, responding to the unending compliments with only a simple nod of his head. When he hand finished eating and got up to leave, Remus decided to accompany him, citing some ungraded quizzes as his excuse.

It took quite a while for them to cover the ground between the Great hall and the stairs because of the number of students who insisted on coming up to them on the way. Severus listened and nodded at their persistent attempts to congratulate him personally on his award, and each time, he would politely thank them and send them on their way. For Severus, this was almost harder for him to believe. Kids that he knew didn’t particularly like him, some who downright hated him, coming up and speaking to him with proud voices and gratified expressions. What happened to the spoiled little brats that wouldn’t spit on him if he were on fire? Where had all this respect come from so suddenly? Remus tried to tell him that they would have done it anyway; it was only right after all. But Severus chalked it up to obligation alone. These kids didn’t genuinely care about anything he did, as long as it didn’t affect them. This amount of praise was nothing short of disconcerting to the man reputed to be the most despised teacher in Hogwarts’ history.

Severus had just sent away a group of his Second years when he heard someone else calling his name. He and Remus turned their heads as Harry came walking toward them, flanked by Hermione, Ron, and Rose. The two boys looked as though they were about jump off some very high cliff, though the assertive stares from their female counterparts kept them moving forward. “Potter,” the Potions master sneered to further psych them out.

The group of Gryffindors came to a stop some three feet away from him, and Harry drew in a shuddering breath. He seemed to be having a hard time finding words because it took a few seconds for him to actually start talking. “Professor…I just wanted to say – well, we just wanted to say –,”

“Spit it out, Potter,” commanded Snape, coaxing a snicker out of Lupin.

“We just wanted to congratulate you, sir,” Harry said rather quickly. He shifted his eyes to his left, where Rose was standing just behind him. She gave him a little nod, despite the slight arch in her brow. “You should have been recognized for your deeds a long time ago, and it’s good to see you get the honor you deserve.”

“I appreciate the effort, Mister Potter, but it would be more convincing if you didn’t need backup. I would be more inclined to accept the compliment from the ladies.”

Harry groaned in his throat, making Rose and Hermione giggle. “Don’t do that Professor, it was Harry’s idea,” said Rose, touching Harry’s arm from behind. “But honestly sir, congratulations on the Order. You really earned it.”

“Rose and Harry are right,” said Hermione, Ron nodding along with her. “You should have gotten this award months ago. If you ask us, no one deserves it more than you.”

“Merlin save me from simpering fools,” Snape muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. His hand came up to mask the color that was creeping into his face, and his looked to the lycanthrope beside him for aide. Lupin apparently took the kids’ side because he cocked his brow and gave a teasing, “Watch it, Severus…”

Snape waved a hand at them, though letting his gaze linger on the enticing glimmer in Rose’s eyes. Sensing that there was more to come from her tonight, Snape had to concentrate in order to find the words. “I thank all of you for your kind words, but I have other things to attend to, which does not include drawn out conversation with penitent students. You have said what you needed to say, and you can now return to your dormitories.”

Lupin chuckled to himself before turning to the four younger Gryffindors. “Well, you heard the man,” he said. “Up to bed with you.” The kids obviously didn’t like to be ordered around; the looks on their faces were a dead giveaway. However, they did not give in to the pride of their age, nor did they use their good relationship with Remus to brush the command off their shoulders. They gently pushed their way past the two professors.

But just before he and Severus could carry on their way, something caught Remus’s eye. He noticed the curious, almost impish look in Rose Beckett’s gaze as she passed Severus by. Stopping in his tracks and turning around to get a better look, he saw that the gaze had turned to what looked like a strange yearning. In fact, there was almost a hunger in those eyes, and the smirk that tweaked at her lips further added to her eager stare. She then turned her head and continued down the hall. Remus however watched her until she had vanished up the stairs.

Why on earth was she looking at Severus like that?

Wondering if the Potions master had noticed as well, Remus turned back to his snarky, sarcastic colleague, only to discover that Severus had slipped out of the hall without a trace.

**~HP~**

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say Snape was embarrassed,” Ron sniggered, sitting on the common room sofa with a lap full of girlfriend. “He looked like he couldn’t wait to get out of there!”

“Well, I can’t imagine he appreciated being caught off-guard like that,” said Rose, who was kneeling in front of the fireplace, roasting some leftover marshmallows left by a group of First years. Harry had already gone up to bed for the night, leaving his three friends to chat nonsense without him. “Of course, I can’t imagine he was any more embarrassed than Harry.”

“I cannot believe that you actually talked him into congratulating Snape himself,” said Ron. “I mean, you could have easily passed it on to Snape for him.”

“He probably knew that Snape would call him a coward if he did that,” Rose pointed out through a mouthful of hot, gooey, toasted goodness. “Oh Merlin, this is good! You guys want any?”

“I’ll take one,” said Hermione, and Rose put another marshmallow on the blackening poker. The Head Girl continued. “But you know, it was the best thing for Harry to do. Harry wanted to commend him anyway. Actually getting up the nerve to approach Snape and say it himself shows people that Harry actually means it.”

“Never mind that Rose looked like she was going to throttle him if he didn’t,” Ron chuckled again. Rose just rolled her eyes as she handed the poker and toasted marshmallow to Hermione.

“If Harry thinks that Snape deserves respect, then he should be the one to give it to him. I can’t be your messenger for everything.”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t have gone anyway,” said Ron with a smirk. “You looked happier than a lot of the Slytherins in the Great hall.”

Rose noticed the odd quirk in Hermione’s face as she slipped off her boyfriend’s lap. She turned to Ron with as straight a face as she could manage, disguising her hesitancy as fatigue. “I was excited for Snape. It’s a tremendous honor, after all. Perhaps I just let myself get a little too carried away.”

“Ha, carried away indeed! There’s no reason to get carried away about Snape, not unless you fancy the guy.” Ron let out a hearty laugh, tugging Hermione back toward his side. Back turned to the couple, Rose sat motionless by the fire, frozen in her last stance.

“Who said I fancy him?” she asked, looking back at Ron. She noticed the tensing expression in Hermione’s face, though the Head Girl was trying really hard not to show it to her other half.

“I’m just kidding with you, Rose,” Ron laughed. “I just thought it was funny how you always get so perky when he’s around, like you’re excited just to see him. Only time I’ve ever seen that was when a girl is after some poor bloke.”

“Cut it out, Ron,” warned Hermione, gently smacking him on the leg. Ron just laughed harder, and Rose’s face flushed a light shade of pink.

“I’m playing, Mione. Surely, Rose has much higher standards than that. Rose fancy Snape…I crack myself up.” Ron looked up at Rose, expecting to see an embarrassed smirk. But the look that he got appeared to be one of forced down angst as she looked to Hermione. To Ron, Rose almost looked worried. “I am playing, aren’t I?” he said, but to no response.

“Ron…” Rose tried to say despite the hitch in her voice. “Let’s not get too hasty.”

“Hasty? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it, Ron,” Hermione urged. “Leave Rose alone.”

“Oh no Hermione, not until I find out what’s going on here. What are you two hiding from me?” Realizing that she had to be a bit delicate in her choice of words, Rose straightened her back as she pulled her legs under her body and held out a steady hand to the young redheaded wizard. “Ron, before I say anything –,”

“Oh Rose, don’t say that you fancy Snape,” Ron blurted out, waving his hand at Rose instantly. His face scrunched up in his sudden onslaught of disgust. “Please don’t say it!”

Rose’s jaw dropped down into a frown. She had barely even said a word, and already she was being accused of something akin to a crime. Looking at the repulsed, uncomprehending scrunch in Ron’s face only made her feel worse. She told Hermione that this would happen; however many times the Head Girl tried to tell her that the boys would understand, Rose always knew it would end up like this. There was just too much bloody prejudice to get over, more than Rose could ever hope for a guy like Ron.

“What would you do if I did?” she said, pulling her voice back to the very limits of perceptibility.

“Oh Merlin, you do, don’t you?!” Ron pressed his hands to his face, forcibly pulling them down his cheeks. He turned to Hermione, who was a stoic form of distress beside him. “And you knew about it, didn’t you?”

“I promised Rose that I wouldn’t tell anyone,” admitted Hermione, touching her lips to show her remorse. Ron then turned back to Rose, who was trying to bury her face in her hand. “Why Rose?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. “Of all the men that you could have taken a fancy to, in the name of all that is magic, why Snape?”

Rose shook her head with a sigh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Like hell I would!” exclaimed Ron. “He’s nasty! He’s a greasy, loathing, despicable bastard! And if that isn’t enough for you, he’s up the bloody duff! What could you possibly see in that?”

“Evidently, a lot more than you,” said Rose. She rubbed at the corner of her eye to rid it of the glimmer that was starting to become noticeable. Ron however scoffed at her, failing to notice her slowly forming tears. “You say that like there’s more that we don’t know about him. Come on, Rose, wake up and smell potion! You deserve better than that. A girl like you shouldn’t have to go for something as vile and abominable as that!”

“For Prospero’s sake!” Rose growled as she shot up to her feet. “He’s a man, not a monster! You know that just as well as I do. This is exactly why I never told you guys. I knew you would react exactly like this. What else would you say when you have the capacity of a toothpick?” She started for the stairs, but before she could leave the room, Hermione sprang from the sofa.

“Stop it! Stop it, both of you!” she nearly shouted. Rose stopped in her tracks, and Ron straightened his back. Hermione’s pointing finger started shifting between the two staggered gingers. “Ron, you have no right to call Rose’s judgment into question. From what she has told me, she has seen a great deal of admirable qualities in Snape that she finds attractive in a man. We cannot control who we are attracted to, and you know that very well. And you, Rose, you don’t have to jump right to insulting Ron, especially in front of me.”

“You were the one who kept telling me that it would be alright to tell them,” said Rose. “Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” Ron spoke up. “But think about it, it’s a lot to take in. I mean, you…and Snape. If a match like that ever were to exist, it wouldn’t be any more bizarre.”

“I don’t see it that way.” Rose spoke in barely a whisper, but still Ron heard every syllable.

“Now Ron,” said Hermione, kneeling down by Ron again. “I made a promise to Rose, and you should too. This is not something that we want to go around the school, and I don’t want to see Rose’s good relations with Snape get ruined. If you care about Rose’s friendship, then you will stay as silent as the grave about this.”

Ron was quiet for what felt like the better part of a few hours. But after a good shake of the head, and a toss of his red locks off his face, he gave a short sigh. “Alright, fine. I won’t say anything. Just do me a favor, Rose, and don’t make it so obvious. I can’t bear the idea of seeing you get all doe-eyed for Snape.”

“Of course not,” Rose said with a slight smirk. Again, she turned to the stairs. “And one more thing.”

“Yes?” said Ron, tugging Hermione back up onto the sofa.

“Don’t tell Harry just yet. I’d reckon he would take this worse than you.” Despite the obvious smirk, and the giggle from Hermione, Ron nodded his head, and Rose left the couple alone to have the rest of the evening to themselves.


	58. Remus

Remus Lupin had never lived a very simple life. There was a time when he longed for the care-free existence that James and Sirius once advocated, but there could only be so many years before the time came to give up on that dream. For Remus, that time had come and gone a long time ago. Having Lycanthropy didn’t even have much to do with it; it had both its curses and uses, but all were manageable to an extent. If anything, it had to do with the fact that Remus had never seen himself as a young widower, struggling to make a new life for him and his son after a war that he shouldn’t have survived.

He was a proud father, but there was always something missing without Nymphadora. It was truly a miracle to have this little boy in his life, and his heart soared whenever he got to see little Teddy make the big milestones of infancy. But for every little babbled word or inch crawled was another moment lost. For Remus, being a widower this early in life might have been a little easier if Teddy wasn’t so much like his mother. He had Nymphadora’s energy, her tenacity, even her love of matching hair color to moods. How many nights Remus sat up watching his son sleeping in his Moses basket, wishing that his late wife could have seen what a beautiful boy she had made, or that he got to see Teddy more often than a weekend every two weeks or so. Distance however served as a reminder that every day with Teddy was a gift, and Remus treated it as nothing less.

At least there was Severus to distract him. Whenever the pregnant wizard was nearby, he was the center of Remus’s attention. His heightened lupine senses were constantly on the alert for any troubles the Potions master may be having, and any dangers that may be nearby. Imbedded deep in his soul, the wolf was pushing Remus to protect the pack and the unborn pup. At times, Remus found himself reluctant to leave Severus’s side, which was useful because Severus was starting to suffer from a slight case of cabin fever. As Albus didn’t want Severus to venture out alone, Remus would step up to accompany him. They did go into town on one occasion, but they mostly stuck to walking the battlements around the castle. A little fresh air was all that Severus needed, and oddly enough, Remus’s quiet company seemed to help relax him if the day had been stressful.

Too long had Remus tried to be a friend to Severus, hoping that it might make up for some of the torment that he did nothing to prevent when they were young. It was nice to finally see that the effort was appreciated, perhaps even welcomed.

“I tell you, it makes no sense,” Severus said as he stared out across the grounds from atop a battlement. Down below, Cassandra had gathered her little class of Seventh years together for an outdoor lesson, which was considered a treat in her subject. All of them were bundled up in their cloaks and scarves. “They have already learned all there is to know about defending themselves in your class. They do not need to be taught how to use firearms.”

Remus chuckled as he watched Hagrid load another doomed clay pigeon into a catapult while Ravenclaw’s Michael Corner stepped up to the improvised dotted line of pebbles, a standard Muggle hunting rifle in his hands. He struck the proper, albeit shaky stance, positioned the gun at his shoulder, and shouted a gruff, “ _Pull!_ ” Hagrid yanked back a rusted lever, sending the target flying through the air. With a tremendous blast, the little molded bird exploded into clay shards. Behind Corner, the small group of students burst into some light cheers, and Cassandra drew another line on the clipboard she carried.

“You know Cassie,” said Remus. “She likes to cover all aspects of Muggle culture, whether it’s beneficial or not. And it’s not as though those kids are having a miserable time down there. Who’s to say that they can’t have a little fun every now and then?”

“It’s all fun and games until they accidently shoot a bystander,” Severus commented, tugging at the collar of his woolen robes. “Of course, I didn’t expect you to find fault in Cassandra’s teaching anyway. The woman could train those kids as assassins and turn them loose on a crowd of Muggles before you noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

Severus’s words were not registering with Remus, who was looking down at the Muggle Studies professor, watching her flip her thick brown hair over the shoulder of her lime-green cloak as she shouted out instructions to her students. Actually, there had been quite a few occasions when Remus had lost track of a conversation when she was involved. It was the strangest thing, this pull he felt toward Cassandra. It seemed to creep up on him out of nowhere, and it was hard to shake once it had taken its hold. It was truly bizarre, and Remus still couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly what it was he was feeling.

He had never met someone quite like Cassandra. It wasn’t very often that he came across a woman so odd, so bubbly, and yet so grounded. She was quirky in every sense of the word, from her extroverted teaching style, to her boisterous personality, even the bright, vivid colors of her wardrobe. But for all her animated appearances, Remus still saw that she was a very caring, painfully positive woman who constantly overstepped her boundaries to help others. It also didn’t hurt that she was easy to look at. Remus would have to be blind to not see that at the relatively young age of thirty-five, Cassandra was quite attractive in her own right. She had a nice, womanly figure, perfectly coifed hair, and her big doe eyes could light up a room without any effort. But that was as far as Remus was willing to go.

He felt something for her, but he couldn’t call it affection. It had been nine months since he lost Nymphadora, but Remus needed more time. He needed to sort himself out before getting involved with anyone, much less with Cassandra Wicker.

“Yes well…as long as she’s not hurting anyone, I’m not one to complain,” he said, drumming the stone with his fingers.

“She’s taken quite a liking to you, you know,” said Severus, a peculiar arch in his dark brow. Remus stopped what he was doing and turned his head to the Potions master.

“Cassandra?” he asked, almost in a squeak. He cleared his throat to recover the tenor of his voice. “Well, she’s a very gregarious lady and she enjoys good company.”

“That’s true, but surely even you have noticed that she has a taste for your company.” Severus nodded his head downward at the brunette witch, who was motioning for Rose Beckett to step up to the shooting line. “I don’t believe I have ever seen her even attempt to ignore your presence. Frankly, I’m surprised that she hasn’t noticed that we’re up here watching.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” said Remus. “Cassandra and I have very interesting conversations, but that doesn’t have to mean anything in particular. We just get along well, like you and Beckett get along well.”

Remus glanced down again as the redheaded student, the lone spot on gold and scarlet amongst the other house colors, raised the pistol in her hands. She squinted her eyes to focus on her target, but for some reason, her eyes quickly shifted up in their direction. Rose looked up at them with a little smirk. Cassandra must have noticed this because she turned around, noticed them, and gave them a fervent wave, prompting the class to do the same. The two wizards waved back, however awkwardly.

“You see what I mean?” said Severus, tucking his hands back into the folds of his robes. His eyes however, Remus noticed, were drawn down to Rose, once again prepping to shoot her gun. The DADA professor used this as a means of distraction, and he turned his visual attention in that direction. Cassandra was still sporadically glancing up at their battlement lookout.

“Cassandra’s a good friend, Severus,” he said, and that was it. If anyone could sense when someone what beating around the bush, it was Severus, and Remus didn’t see any point in trying to defeat that. He would lose anyway. All Remus could think was that Severus really needed to go back to ignoring those tittering conversations between Pomona, Rolanda, and Minerva. Those women didn’t know what they were talking about any more than he did.

Remus heard the clanking sound of the catapult being loaded, and once she had a good footing, Rose called for its release. She fired the pistol, the force of the shot causing her to stumble back a few steps. In the air, the bullet hit the ceramic bird’s wing, and the pieces fell to the earth below. Rose jumped with a shout; clearly she was under the impression that she would miss her target completely. Remus chuckled, but if he had not shifted his eyes at that exact moment, he would have missed the smile that tugged at Severus’s thin lips. He followed the Potions master’s eye line down to the young, red-haired Gryffindor, and there was that twinge of puzzlement again.

He still wondered how Severus could hold such favoritism for someone like Rose, a brash lioness who sometimes let her emotions get away from her. For all his moaning and groaning about difficult and unbearable Gryffindors, what did he see in her that he couldn’t in the others? And did he ever notice those playful little looks she gave him across a crowded room? But Remus remembered that there were many things to do with Severus Snape that were unexplainable, and it would be foolish to try and get an answer out of the sly wizard. Besides, it wouldn’t be wise to trip his delicate emotional balance and send him into a tirade when there was a whole group of students within earshot.

**~HP~**

The waning light of the wintery afternoon brought an all too familiar face to Remus’s office. With his newly minted reputation and public personality as Mister Hogwarts, it was surprising that Harry had the time to seek out his favorite teacher and good friend, and yet it was a fairly common occurrence. Even more surprising was his reason behind it. In more recent weeks, Harry was starting to feel a strange and unusual need to get away from Ron and Hermione. He was glad that they were happy together, but the fawning and snogging was getting to be too much. He would think to make up for their lack of company by spending time with Rose, but she for some reason had been making herself scarce as of late. As Harry once said to his wolf-weary comrade, he sometimes simply had nowhere else to go.

“I have no clue where she goes,” he told Remus about his increasingly absent female friend. “If Rose is not with one of us, I assume that she’s with Lavender or Parvati. But since they’ve been spending almost all of their time with Justin and Dean, she has to be off hiding somewhere else. I just don’t know where. A girl can’t spend all her time in the dungeons.”

Remus had to chuckle at the distinct roll of Harry’s green eyes. If there was one thing he had a harder time accepting than Hermione and Ron’s public affection, it was young Beckett’s open affiliation with Severus. “That she can’t,” he said. “But then again, you can’t stop her from visiting Snape any more than she can stop you from seeing me.” Harry shook his head, but still smirked. Evidently, there was still something about their pregnant Potions master that was still not sitting well with him. But if that was what Harry needed to get off his chest, then Remus would let the boy unload on him. He wouldn’t turn him away for anything, no matter what the topic of conversation was.

He could see that Harry was struggling again. He might have carried himself with impeccable ease, but deep down, the young hero was still not happy with where he was in life. He had been famous to wizard kind for nearly his entire life, but defeating Voldemort had catapulted Harry to levels of everlasting legend. But fame always sounded better than what it actually turned out to be. He was subjected to scrutiny in the papers, and there were very few people he could actually trust with everything he had. He knew he had true and trustworthy friends, but he happened to be their third wheel. And whether or not Harry cared to admit it, he truly missed Ginny and all the happiness she brought him. He had enough weighing down his mind without the fight to come to terms with his discrepancies toward Severus Snape for the sake of a promise to Dumbledore. Actually, much of his recent time with Remus had been to vent his aggravations with the difficult, hormonal man that he wouldn’t dare say in front of Rose.

But as frustrating as life seemed at the moment for the Boy-who-lived, Remus had all the hope and confidence that it would get better in time. Harry was young enough and strong enough to be able to pull himself through rough times and get on with the better moments that he waited for. And it wasn’t as though he had a dreadful life to begin with. Hell, Remus could name a few great things off the top of his head! Obnoxiously in love though they were, he had Ron and Hermione, and their unwavering loyalty. He had a girlfriend, very far away, but very dedicated to him and their relationship. And he always had Rose to lean on for support. Their friendship might not have been the oldest, but it was a friendship that Remus knew Harry valued deeply. He had something worth living for. He knew it before Voldemort, and he knew it now.

“If you have to ask me, I say you have nothing to worry about,” Remus told Harry. “Everyone has that moment where they have to adjust to adult life, and that is certainly no different for the lot of you. You just have a bit more to adjust to than the average young person. I think once all of you have settled into your places, you will find that you will be much happier.” Harry looked at him with a rather dubious wrinkle in his brow, but he did nod his head, adjusting how his glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. It was obvious to Remus that he wasn’t buying that just yet, but he could see that Harry trusted his opinion enough to at least entertain the idea. And hopefully he would do that soon! Harry deserved to relax for once in his life, without fretting about truly miniscule things.

He had just said goodbye to Harry and was about to return at a month’s worth of leftover paperwork when Remus heard a breathless voice call out his name. Jerking his head up, Remus turned in Poppy’s direction as she came hustling up to him, her robes blowing in the air behind her. She came to an unsteady stop only a few steps from the werewolf’s side.

“Oh Remus!” she gasped, out of breath from her dash. “Thank heavens I found you! I need you to do me a huge favor.”

“What is it?” asked Remus. Already he was wondering what was so important that had it Poppy rushing up to him like she was being chased by a rabid Grim. He offered a hand to the elderly witch, allowing her a moment to catch her breath.

“It’s about Severus,” Poppy told him once she regained her stamina. Immediately, Remus felt a clench of worry at the very mention of the Potions master’s name. “What’s wrong, Poppy? Is he alright? What happened?”

“Oh no, Remus, Severus is quite alright. But someone needs to speak with him as soon as possible,” said Poppy. “I feel his condition will soon start to affect his work in a major way.” Remus took Poppy’s shoulder and guided her into his classroom. This was far too private a conversation to be having in the middle of the hall. He made sure that the door was double-locked before he turned to Poppy, his amber eyes begging for an explanation.

“What do mean by affect his work?” he asked. “You know that Severus is quite set on teaching his classes for as long as he can.”

“It’s not his teaching that concerns me,” Poppy explained. “You see, I was stocking up on the potions I will need for after your next transformation when something occurred to me. I don’t know how this slipped my mind, it’s so unlike me! I remembered that a pregnant person cannot brew level five potions after their sixth month of gestation.”

Remus thought about that for a moment. Level five potions were so rated for their potency while brewing, their toxic fumes and their hazardous ingredient combinations. He thought harder and remembered that to his knowledge, there were no such potions on the syllabus of any of Severus’s classes, not even the advanced Seventh years. That could only mean – “He can’t brew the Wolfsbane Potion!”

“Exactly,” said Poppy. “Unless we wish for Severus to harm both himself and his unborn child, he will have to stop brewing the potion for you until after he has given birth.”

“But – but,” Remus stammered, himself taken aback at this revelation. “But who will brew it in his stead? No one can brew the Wolfsbane Potion like Severus. The potions I have gotten from other apothecaries were never quite as effective as his work. I can’t go back to that, Poppy.”

“I understand your concerns, dear,” Poppy told him, grasping his shoulder. “This is why Severus needs to be alerted to this at once. No doubt he will not take lightly to having some of his duties temporarily taken away, but hopefully we can negotiate with him and find someone that he approves of to brew your Wolfsbane.”

“You mean bring in an outside source? Poppy, surely we couldn’t do that. Whoever we got would want to know why Severus wasn’t brewing himself.”

“I agree with you, but we will have to see how Severus feels.” Poppy tapped Remus’s arm in a reassuring way, and then stepped back toward the door. “Now, I was going to go down to the dungeons myself, but I’ve just had a student come in with some nasty spell damage. It seems a fight broke out in the Ravenclaw common room between two Fourth years. Since my hands will be tied for the rest of the night, would you be a dear and talk to Severus for me? It doesn’t matter if you have to wait until after dinner, as long as you get to him sometime tonight. We will need the time to prepare for the next full moon, after all. Also Remus, I feel that Severus might be more at ease if it were you telling him. I know the last thing he wants to hear from me is how he will soon be limited by his pregnancy.”

**~HP~**

Remus had a hard time staying focused after Poppy left him to finish his work. He was attentive enough to the mountains of parchment set in piles on his desk, but all the while he could feel the building nerves of what he would eventually have to do. Remus knew how important work was to Severus, especially while he was expecting. Now he had to be the one to break the news to him that one of the fears that had been plaguing the Potions master since discovering his pregnancy had been confirmed. Remus was anxious about how Severus would react; the wizard’s moods had been terribly unpredictable of late, one moment snarling over a First year’s poor performance in class, the next weeping after listening to Cassandra describe the plot of the Muggle film _Titanic._ There was no way of telling what would happen this time. There was also the fact that Severus did not come up for supper, which only worsened Remus’s worries. He didn’t know what kind of physical shape Severus was in, nor how sound his mental state was. It could only mean that Remus had a recipe for disaster should he screw this up. The DADA professor spent a great deal of his evening preparing himself, carefully choosing the words he would use.

Holding himself with outward confidence, as though nothing was amiss, Remus quietly made his way down to the castle’s lower levels. It was just nearing the nine o’clock hour, when most students had already gone to bed. Remus dearly hoped that Severus would still be up at this hour, otherwise he wouldn’t get another chance to get him alone until the following afternoon. And even if he was still following his old nocturnal habits, the Potions master might not be up for conversation. The further he walked, the more Remus realized how thin the ice he was treading on was, and the nerves really began to build. He worked so hard to earn Severus’s friendship, and he didn’t want to lose it now.

He came to a slow stop just outside the door to Severus’s personal quarters, listening for any movement on the other side. When he heard nothing, feeling a sudden rush of likely unnecessary concern for his colleague’s wellbeing, Remus took some affirmative action and stepped up to grab the door handle. He felt the spark of magic under his palm as Severus’s wards recognized him and opened, allowing him to push the door in.

Severus was seated on the sofa in the little sitting area, hunched slightly over his swollen middle as he gently wrung his fingers in his lap. He had shed his frock coat, and the buttons around the collar of his white shirt had been undone. Gone also were his sturdy black boots. He looked as though he were about to turn in, and Remus was relieved to see that he had managed to catch him in time.

Upon hearing the door creaking open, Severus’s head instantly jerked up in Remus’s direction. “Remus, didn’t your mother ever tell you that you must knock before entering?” he said, his voice a little tense like he had been caught off guard.

“I’m sorry, Severus. That was terribly rude of me,” said Remus. He stepped further into the room and shut the door behind. “Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Severus glanced over his shoulder, looking towards the door to his bedchamber, which was open just a touch. “Well, I am not accustomed to visitors at this hour, even ones as impulsive and unprompted as you. What do you want, Remus? I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

“I was hoping that I could talk to you about something,” Remus said, trying to put on as much optimism as he could. “I had hoped that I would get the chance at supper. You’re not unwell, are you?”

“I’m quite alright, Remus, but could this possibly wait until morning?”

“No Severus, I don’t think it can.”

Again, Severus turned to the bedchamber door, this time with a little more tension. Remus wondered why there was a sense of urgency around Severus. But after turning an ear to that door, he realized that he could hear water lapping against the sides of the bathtub. And evidently, it was still running. Well, Remus thought, that made a bit more sense. But why was he getting the feeling that something else was on Severus’s mind?

“How important is it?” asked Severus.

“Well…” began Remus, suddenly feeling the nerves setting back in. “It’s not that crucial, but I still would like to talk tonight.”

“Remus, I must be blunt with you. It has been a long day, I’m tired, I wish to go to bed. Whatever it is that you want to talk about, it can wait until tomorrow, when I will be able to listen properly. Until then, I must bid you a goodnight.”

“Severus,” Remus interrupted, stepping forward. “I really must speak with you now.”

“What part of “no” do you not understand?” asked Severus. He rose unsteadily to his feet, beginning to head for the ajar door, but Remus moved to follow.

“You don’t understand, Severus. I have a message from Poppy –,”

“All the more reason to put it off.” Severus pushed the door open slightly and peered in. Now rapidly losing patience, Remus came up and touched the Potions master’s shoulder to stop him. Severus’s reaction however was quick. He turned on his heel and planted his forearms on either side of the doorway, thoroughly blocking Remus from entering. The other wizard stepped back and let out a sigh of frustration.

“Come on, Severus,” he said. “It will only take a few minutes, I promise. Just please, let me get out what I have to say and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Remus, I don’t ask that much of you,” said Severus, his voice tensing despite the calm expression on his face. “All I ask is for one night without anyone disturbing me, and if you really do consider yourself my friend, you would do well to respect that.”

Remus shook his head, his dusty eyebrows raising without much effort. Now he could definitely smell a hint of fear on the Potions master, as well as something else wafting out of the room behind him, something slightly familiar, but out of place. “Good lord, Severus, what has gotten into you tonight? Are you sure that you’re alright?”

“Yes Remus, I’m fine,” Severus ground out. “Just leave me be.”

Once again, Remus shook his head, rubbing his temple with his index finger. He studied the pregnant wizard’s face for a moment or two, but then caught a chuckle in his throat. “You can be a very good liar, no doubt about that,” he said, noticing how Severus was reaching back for the door handle. “But you know what? I just don’t believe you. Severus, it’s just you and me here. What’s on your mind?”

“For god’s sake, Remus, there is nothing –,”

“Sev…”

Remus flinched at the woman’s voice that came crooning out of the room. Quite surprised and a little puzzled that Severus was not alone, he glanced over Severus’s shoulder to try and get a better look. On the floor by Severus’s discarded frock coat, a pair of powder-blue ladies’ underwear lay in a tiny heap with a white bra. It was there that Remus was suddenly reminded of his colleagues’ joking about Severus’s mysterious, invisible girlfriend, and he swallowed. What had he just interrupted?

“The bath is ready for us, love,” the female voice – the _young_ female voice, Remus noted – continued. “Whatever you’re doing out there, it’s taking forever. I’m about ready to come out there and drag you into the tub with me.” Severus turned his head sharply, his mouth opening to speak. But before he could get a single word out, the bathroom door creaked open, and the lithe form of Rose Beckett strolled out. Remus’s amber eyes widened with horror when he saw that she was wearing nothing but Severus’s dark dressing gown.

The young Gryffindor froze the instant she looked up and saw the wizard standing just outside the door, and the shock etched into her face matched that of Severus. For what could have been an eternity, no one said a word.

“I told you to wait up for me,” the Potions master said to her, his voice constricted with growing alarm. Rose however was in too much of a panic to answer him. Her hands trembled at her side, and no noise escaped her lips, except the sound of her quivering breath. She clutched at the draped cloth across her chest, further covering her undeniably naked body.

“Pro – Professor Lupin,” she finally managed to mutter. “I…I…uh…” There were no more words after that, just flustered hums and other sounds. But Remus didn’t hear one bit of it. He wasn’t even attempting to listen to it. He was far too overwhelmed by the horrendous shock that this scene produced.

Remus was not blind, nor naïve, nor stupid. He didn’t need to be told what these two were doing, or what they were about to do he should say. Severus and Rose could try and explain themselves away all they wanted, it was still what it looked like. There was simply no reason for a young female student to be standing in her teacher’s personal rooms at that late hour, with only a robe to disguise her undress. And when realization fully hit him like a Bludger out of nowhere, Remus was almost knocked off his feet.

It all made sense now. The flirtatious glances, the unexplained favor, a phantom relationship that no one ever saw for themselves. There was a reason behind Rose’s disappearing act, and Severus’s openness to being shadowed by her…a reason for the inexplicable desire they had to be near each other.

Remus let out a hard sigh and rubbed his eyes. He then looked up at Severus with a deathly serious stare. He didn’t know what to say to this, what he should be saying. So instead of pondering for what could be for a long while, he again looked beyond the Potions master to the frightened girl behind him. “Put your clothes on, Miss Beckett,” he said, sounding as grave as he looked. “I think we need to have a little chat.”

**~HP~**

A short time later, Remus was sitting in a wooden chair that he hastily transfigured, wringing his nervous hands in his lap. Directly across from him, Severus sat just as rigidly on the sofa, a now redressed Rose sitting at his side. Both seemed pretty intent on avoiding eye contact with the werewolf, with Rose pointing her nose to the side, and Severus glancing down at his rounded belly. And in both of their faces, there was nothing but the obvious distress and shame that seemed to flood the entire room.

This was truly bizarre, Remus thought to himself. This was his respected colleague and friend, and one of his more darling, charming students. And yet here he was, about to scold them like a father who had just caught his child having sex in the household shed. There was never any way to prepare yourself for this kind of discussion. Frankly, Remus didn’t even know where to begin with these two. What words were there for a teacher fooling around with one of his young pupils? When he finally felt as though the thinking would crack his skull, Remus leaned forward to lean his elbows on his knees, and he looked past his brow to Severus.

 “So…this is your mysterious Irish girlfriend,” he said, his voice so low, like the wolf was just below the surface, waiting to be released. “They say it’s a small world, but it is simply phenomenal when you see just how small can be. It’s a bit funny, Severus. I quite honestly pictured a partner of yours to be a little older, perhaps someone who’s a year out of school.”

“If your plan is to humiliate us, Remus, you can stop right now,” said Severus, his tough tone giving a deep warning. “Don’t you even try with me.”

“Well, what else would you have me do? Severus, of all the things I could have foreseen you doing, this was the last! Getting involved with a student, what the bloody fuck were you thinking?!” Remus noticed the slight flinch in Severus’s stooped shoulders, and Rose bit down on her lower lip. Both pressed their eyes shut against the angry questions, which only served to make Remus madder. Did these two think that they were invincible, that their little affair would never be discovered? Leaning back in his stiff wooden chair, Remus let out a hard breath. “How many times?”

“What?” asked Severus, glancing up at the cross wizard.

“How many times have you done it?” asked Remus. He knew that there were definitely more mature words he could have used, but for some strange reason, Remus just couldn’t bring himself to that point. “I know what I saw before, so don’t try and talk me out of it. How many times have you made love?”

“Does it really matter?” said Rose, finally speaking up after the long stretch of silence she adopted since getting dressed.

Remus looked at her, or rather at her turned cheek, and he realized that she made a pretty good argument. In these unique, unsavory circumstances, it didn’t really matter how many times she and Severus slept together. It could have been once, it could have been a hundred times, but it was wrong all the same. He offered up a very short nod. “Point taken, Miss Beckett.”

“For Prospero’s sake, Remus, she’s not in class.” Remus looked back at Severus, and was a bit stunned at the hard glare the Potions master was giving him. It was as though Remus had just greatly insulted her, and all he did was address her as he normally would. But Severus was right as well; this wasn’t a classroom, and to him, she wasn’t a student at the moment. Remus felt a certain sinking in his stomach as he swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry. You have a point, Rose,” he said. He got to his feet to start to pace about the floor. “Perhaps I should put it this way. How long has this been going on? How long, really?”

“Since the Seventh-year Ball,” said Rose. “Not a day sooner.”

“Two months,” uttered Remus. “And right under our noses…I honestly don’t believe it. It’s official now, Severus. You are the most slippery bastard I have ever met.”

“I meant no harm,” said Severus, his face falling. But Remus reacted with a quick snarl. “You meant no harm?! You honestly expect me to believe that?! Severus, of all the things you have done, this is the most disgraceful! I mean, I would have almost expected something like this from someone Rose’s age, but you should know far better. To take a girl so young –,”

“I’m not eleven anymore,” Rose snarled, causing Remus to bite the inside of his cheek and taste his own blood.

“That might be true, Rose, but there are certain rules that we must abide to, certain laws.”

“We’re not breaking the law!” Rose suddenly whirled her body around to stare down her werewolf professor. “I’m eighteen. I’m of age, and I have been this entire time. Severus wouldn’t have touched me if I was underage.”

“You know that there are rules about older students and authority figures, Rose,” reminded Remus. “He shouldn’t have touched you at all, underage or not.”

“Will you stop talking like it was all his fault?!” Now Rose was mad. She stood up and clenched her fists at her side. “I’m not some delicate little flower, this naïve child that is easily manipulated. I’m a grown woman, damn it! I’m here tonight because I wanted to be here.”

“Rose, don’t –,” Severus tried to say, but Rose just carried on in her attack against Remus.

“Severus had my consent each and every time we came together,” she said. “I don’t give something like that to just any man, Professor Lupin. If I didn’t want it as badly as he did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It’s consent that separates a real man from a common rapist!”

Evidently, Rose did not recognize the gravity of those words. She also didn’t see the shudder that ran down Severus’s body. Remus abruptly stepped forward, getting just close enough to the Gryffindor to look down his nose at her. “You don’t have a damn clue what you are talking about, Beckett.”

Rose cocked a light, but incredibly snarky eyebrow at him. “Oh really? And who’s to say that you do?”

“For Prospero’s sake, do you have any idea what you just said?” asked Remus, resigning to the reality that he would have to reveal one of Severus’s deepest secrets. Like the other students who had accidently stumbled across Severus’s hidden pregnancy, Rose hadn’t been told exactly how he had come to be in that condition. He would likely have hell to pay when this was over, but it was far better than to have Severus relive that horrendous act that resulted in his pregnancy. But to his further surprise, Rose’s eyes widened upon hearing the question, and she looked down at Severus. He was leaning in over himself, a hand protectively resting on his belly.

“Oh god,” she whispered, half to herself almost. Instantly, she dropped down to sit at the Potions master’s side, and she laid a hand on his arm. “Severus, I’m so sorry. I –,”

“Rose, shut up,” groaned Severus. Rose pulled back slightly; it was obvious to Remus that she was not used to hearing that from this particular wizard. Severus straightened his back and rubbed his forehead, but then he turned to face Rose. “Go into the bedroom and wait there,” he said. “I need to speak with Lupin alone.” Rose was visible wary of that, like Remus would make a run for it as soon as she left the room. But when she felt the stroking of Severus’s fingers against the pale, freckled skin of her cheek, she let out the softest of sighs. She gave Severus a feeble nod, and Severus squeezed her hands in return. Rose then got up and slowly walked back to the bedroom. Remus watched her until the door was firmly closed behind her.

“She knows, doesn’t she?” he asked Severus, who was at this point slowly rising to his feet.

“When she found out about my condition, she wanted to know everything,” Severus explained. “I thought she had the right to know what really happened.”

“She barely has the right to know that you’re pregnant at all,” said Remus. He stood still, even as Severus turned his back and roamed to the other side of the room. “Well Severus, you better start explaining yourself because I’m at a loss here.”

“There is nothing to tell, Remus,” said Severus, to which Remus replied, “Except that you’ve been having an affair with one of our students behind all of our backs. Come on Severus, what has gotten into you that you’re sneaking around with young girls?”

“No need to talk like you found me with a whole roomful of them.” Remus couldn’t see Severus’s face, but he felt the sneer as it shivered down his spine. “And for your information, Rose is not a young girl. You heard her before.”

“So she says. Severus, you have to see it sometime. You are old enough to be Rose’s father. In fact, you are a year _older_ that Rose’s father! She’s just –,”

“She’s eighteen!” Severus snapped as he whirled around. “She is an adult in the eyes of our world, and therefore free to enter into any relationship she chooses.”

“That she is, but we don’t always make the best decisions about who we get ourselves involved with,” said Remus, stuffing his hands into his pockets, bracing himself for the reaction to what he had to say next. Was there a way to present this idea to Severus without earning himself a black eye? “Rose might not know what is good for her yet. She might be grown, but she’s still young enough that she might simply throw herself into the arms of the first person who thought she was something special.”

“Is that so?” Severus arched his eyebrow severely. “Well, I seem to recall Nymphadora Tonks, and the older man who thought that she was something special.”

Remus growled deep in his throat, moving to approach Severus. He had forgotten just how low Severus could hit when attacking someone. Perhaps he had thought that would end with their improved relationship. “At least Nymphadora was seven years out of school when I married her.”

“You still recognize that age is meaningless, don’t you?”

“Severus, I beg you, don’t try that with me,” said Remus waving his hand at the Potions master. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that this affair is still wrong, totally and completely wrong!”

“I know it’s wrong, you flea-bitten ingrate!” Severus snarled. He stalked over to lean heavily against the wall, and Remus bravely walked up behind him. The DADA professor’s fingers were twitching slightly, ready to grip his wand if need be.

“If you know it’s wrong, then why?” he asked. “Why have you been seeing her, shagging her in secret?”

“I can’t tell you that, Remus,” said Severus, his tone very serious. “Even if I wanted to tell you something so personal, we would be here all night. It’s just too complicated to explain.”

“Evidently,” said Remus. He briefly glanced at the closed bedroom door, sensing that Rose was pacing just behind it. He could smell her fear even through thick wood and stone. “I have to ask, Severus…were there others? Have there been other young girls you had before Rose?”

“I’m not a pedophile,” Severus ground out. “I was never attracted to girls that young before all this. Understand Remus, it wasn’t Rose’s youth that attracted me. It wasn’t even her looks; that was just an added bonus.”

Remus shuddered. “Then what was it?”

“It was because she cared,” said Severus. He shifted and let his back rest against the stone wall. “If there is one thing we both know about Rose Beckett, it’s that when she cares for someone, she goes above and beyond for them. She showed me more compassion in a few short months than many others gave in five years. I know I’m a miserable git at the end of the day, but she doesn’t care. She loves me for what I am, as I am. I’ve never known love like that, Remus.”

“Lily loved you,” Remus commented, taking a precautionary step back. “She knew what a little prick you were in school, and yet she was your friend for all those years.”

“But when the time came, there were things about me that she could not ignore. Lily died thinking me nothing more than Death Eater scum. Rose however was able to look past all of that. She just treats it as an unfortunate part of my past, and she leaves it at that. She tells me all the time that all she wants is for me to live a happier life, and everything she does is for me.”

“If I didn’t know Rose well, I would say that was unhealthy.” Remus got his courage back and leaned his back against the wall beside Severus. “So what you are trying to tell me is that you and Rose are in this for more than just the sex.”

“Of course, we are,” said Severus. “I have had too few love affairs to waste on any old tart, and I certainly don’t think of Rose in such a way. She means far too much to me for that.”

“More than Lily?”

The silence that filled the room was dense enough to cut, but after a while, Severus let out a soft breath. “Let’s just say that I never saw myself loving someone else as much as I loved Lily.”

Like that, Remus felt the air being forced from his lungs. Was this really Severus Snape, the man who loved the darling Lily Potter so deeply, even long after her tragic death? Was this the wizard who was once believed could never love again? And even if it was, why did it have to be like this? After all those years of suffering, all Remus could ever want for Severus was for him to be able to find the everlasting love he wanted so badly. But why did he have to find it with an eighteen year-old girl, who possibly didn’t know just what she was getting into? Why did he have to defy the laws of both school and society just to be able to have her? And what was so extraordinary about Rose that made Severus forget his place and hers? What did they have to make Severus all but forget Lily?

“You’re mad,” he breathily said. “You’re completely mad.”

“I’ll be honest, Remus, there were many times I thought that myself,” said Severus. He allowed Remus to guide him back over to the sofa, and he sank tiredly down into the cushions. “I didn’t return to Hogwarts with the expectation of falling for someone, much less someone as young as Rose. But when push came to shove, I just couldn’t stop it. Remus, I have never felt this way about anyone, not anyone since Lily. And wonder of wonders, Rose feels the same for me. I could not deny myself that and set myself up for torture.”

“And the sex?” asked Remus, sitting down in his transfigured chair.

“I never intended for it to go that far, not this soon at least,” Severus explained honestly. “I still don’t know how Rose could even want me pregnant, and yet she does. Tell me Remus, how many women could look past something as absurd as male pregnancy?”

Remus’s brow wrinkled. “Not that many, especially one that age.”

“You see my point then,” said Severus. “But honestly, I don’t even need to sleep with Rose to be happy. I just want her there with me. All I look forward to in my day is to hear her coming into these rooms, hearing her voice, feeling her hands on me. I know I sound sappy at this point, but there is no other way to describe it. She is the one bit of sanity that I have left in my life, and it’s her that keeps me going day to day.”

Remus sighed heavily, feeling a lump in his throat. Severus really wasn’t making this any easier. “I understand,” he said. “But Severus, no matter what you might have with Rose, no matter how right this all feels, it is still illegal. Think about this for a moment. You have a baby coming, you have more than just yourself to consider. Of all times that you could have gotten involved with Rose, putting yourself at risk of being caught and sacked, this was the worst possible time to do it.”

“As I said, I couldn’t control it,” said Severus. He leaned in over himself again, bringing his hands up to massage his temples, and he even rubbed a hand over his eyes, as though to dry them. “I suppose I know what happens next.”

“What do you mean?” asked Remus.

“You know what I mean. You are going to go to Albus and tell him what you saw. We have a duty to adhere to, after all, and this is no exception.”

Remus actually had to think about that. He had gotten somewhat used to the sight of an emotional Severus, with his hormone-induced mood swings showing a side of the Potions master that few knew existed. But none of those little hissy fits or weepy moments compared to something like this. Remus looked at Severus and saw a man who was clinging to control, his heart aching with fear. A small glance into Severus’s eyes was enough to see the terror he felt for himself and the young woman in the other room. He wasn’t afraid of losing his job or what might happen to him or his unborn child. He was afraid that he would lose her. Remus could not have felt worse for being the man that could potentially rip that happiness away from Severus.

It was a long time before he arrived at a decision.

“No…no, I won’t,” he quietly stated. Severus, who seemed to have been expecting the worst, stared down at the floor for a moment before realization dawned on him, and he slowing shifted his eyes up to the other wizard.

“What?” he mumbled.

“I’m not going to tell Albus.”

“Why not?”

Hearing the quiet question, both Remus and Severus looked back to the bedroom door. Rose was standing in the arch, clutching the wood of the door. It seemed that she had chosen that exact moment to reenter the conversation with a calmer temperament. Remus shook his head. “So you eavesdrop too? Hmm, now I can see why Severus likes you.”

“Cut the crap, Remus, and just answer her question,” Severus commanded, and Remus sat up a little straighter. He motioned for Rose to step into the room, and he pointed to the sofa next to Severus. She was cautious, but Rose followed orders. Once she had settled down beside her Potions master, Remus started speaking.

“Severus, you know that all I’ve ever tried to do since that war ended was to be a friend to you. I wanted to be a support to you when you needed it, and that was before we found out about your pregnancy. And above all, I wanted to see you get the chance to be happy with your life. I hate to say it, but in the last few weeks, presumably since you two came together, it was the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I could take that away, but all I would be doing is unleashing a wave of unbelievable guilt upon myself, knowing that I had gone against everything I tried to do.”

“You still don’t approve, do you?” asked Rose, sounding more like a child than Remus could ever recall.

“I don’t know if I ever will approve of this,” he said, very bluntly. “I think both of you have been through a lot in the last few years, and that has had an effect on your better judgment. But I also know that I cannot keep you two apart. Being but one man, it would be impossible. All I can say is that if Albus Dumbledore ever were to hear about this, it won’t be from me.”

Rose’s bright blue eyes widened, making her appear even more innocent. “You’ll keep this secret?”

“I will…at least I will try,” said Remus. Visible relief washed over Rose. Her slim body wilted and she sighed as she leaned on Severus, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Severus shut his eyes and took a few steady breaths. Remus looked on as the Potions master laid a pale hand on Rose’s, the most affection that he could show in the werewolf’s presence. When Severus leaned in to place a kiss on Rose’s forehead, Remus respectively turned his head. He stood up again, this time moving toward the door.

“You’re leaving, Remus?” Severus asked out of the clear blue. “Didn’t you say that there was something you need to discuss with me?”

“I did,” said Remus, nodding his head. He had forgotten that there was another bit of unpleasant news that he had to share with Severus. “Although, I really would prefer to have that discussion alone.” He nodded toward Rose, and Severus gave a reluctant sigh.

“You go and keep the bath warm,” he told her. “I’ll be along shortly.” Rose nodded calmly, and she gently pecked Severus’s cheek. She glanced up at Remus one last time before she silently got up and disappeared back into the bedroom.

“Oi, she knows how to make a man feel guilty,” Remus commented.

“Contrary to what some might believe, she doesn’t do that intentionally,” said Severus. “I suppose I should be thanking you for that.”

“I would say so,” said Remus, nodding his head. “You should know, however, I’m not doing this for Rose. I’m doing this for you. The only reason why I am keeping my mouth shut is because I want to help you. I don’t approve of any of this, but I value your friendship too much to ruin that for you.”

“At least you are keeping your mouth shut,” Severus said, motioning to the chair. “If I were you, I would also try and warm up to the idea. I can safely assure you, Rose is not going anywhere any time soon.”

Remus shook his head, but then he finally broke through the tension and let his lips ease into a small smirk. “Just as long as I don’t walk in on the two of you stark-naked again, I think I can manage.” Severus treated that cheek about as well as he did any other, offering up a weak sneer to compliment the roll in his eyes.

From then on, the night went as Remus planned. He explained the situation with the Wolfsbane Potion to Severus, Severus got terribly annoyed, and Remus had to take the misplaced anger meant for Poppy. Though they both felt the looming presence coming from the bedroom, neither of them brought up Rose again. But she was always on their minds, Remus’s in particular. He knew it would take several days before it would sink in completely, before he would believe what he had just done. He was defying the rules of his occupation and his better conscience, and he was hiding what might be the biggest Hogwarts scandal in recent history. And it was all for the sake of a friend.

Remus’s complicated life had just gotten a bit more problematic.


	59. Accidents and Agreements

The end of January proved to be a touchy few days for Severus and Rose. With Remus accidently stumbling upon their relationship, the safety that they held so deeply was fractured. The werewolf had promised to keep their secret safe, but there were never any guarantees that it would stay that way. Remus could cave to his own convictions, or he could let it slip as foolishly as they had. No matter how much control they sought to keep over their lives, they were vulnerable now.

Severus and Remus were a bit hostile towards each other for a few days. The pregnant Potions master felt genuinely betrayed by this man he thought to consider his friend, not because of his barging into his private life, but because of the way he handled the aftermath. It would be easy to blame Remus’s attitude on the sudden shock of seeing Severus with Rose, but Severus could not be swayed to actually believe that himself. Remus’s anger in those following days was still there, but it began to manifest itself in a tendency to place much of the blame on Rose, something that Severus resented with great intensity. If Remus had a bone to pick with anyone, it would have to be with Severus himself. It was he after all who fell in love with Rose first, and it was he that allowed Rose’s romantic advances. And deep down, Remus knew that Severus was more at fault. He was just so desperately trying to be a supportive ally that he had to somehow divert that antagonism. Many students found themselves the victims of Remus’s misguided frustration.

Quite obviously, Remus’s relationship with Rose had taken a drastic turn for the prickly. What was once a steady and effective alliance between a teacher and his student had been overrun with intense disappointment and shame, and that was without Remus restraining himself from calling Rose some very rude things. Rose deliberately avoided her Defense professor that weekend, and she even didn’t show up for class on the following Monday, citing menstrual cramps as a bogus excuse. But it didn’t improve when she got the courage to return. Lupin would turn a cold shoulder at her, only acknowledging her when he absolutely had to. And each time he would look at her, all Rose got was an almost empty stare. She knew what the wizard thought about her, that he resented how she had blatantly lied to his face for months. Up until then, Remus had only known Rose as a kind, genuine, albeit short-tempered young lady. He never would have thought that she could break one the highest of school rules so spectacularly, deceiving every last person she came in contact with. Rose didn’t want to knock heads with Lupin, but she would also not be made a fool. For now, they both decided, it was best that they kept their distance.

“You will have to speak to him again sometime,” Severus told her. The two of them were presently walking back and forth across the Potions classroom, arranging equipment for the Third year lesson happening immediately after the break was over. “You remember that you along with the others are supposed to be working with Lupin to safeguard my pregnancy. Someone is bound to notice if you never say another word to each other.”

“I honestly don’t see why I should, Severus,” said Rose, arranging clean crucibles at each workspace. “Lupin thinks I’m a slut. I can see it every time he looks at me.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Rose. But even if he were to use that type of language, it would only be because he is disappointed in you. Lupin considered you quite the teacher’s pet before he saw you with me, and I suppose he’s still a bit shocked that you would do that.”

Rose sneered. “Shows how well people around here know me. But honestly Severus, you have to see the way he looks at me. It’s like he’s silently accusing me of seducing you or something.”

“There are many things that we cannot prepare ourselves for,” said Severus, handing Rose several small jars of rat spleen to set out by the cauldrons. “I imagine that in the face of something like this, Remus just doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wants to keep his commitment to his job, but he also feels that he has a certain loyalty to us.”

“I didn’t think he liked me that much,” Rose said with blunt sincerity.

“Of course you would believe that after living in Potter’s shadow for as long as you have,” Severus sneered. “On the contrary, he is actually quite fond of you. I suppose he was in the camp of people who think you are a little angel compared to that wretched father of yours. He expected so much more of you than a relationship with a man twice your age.”

“What about you?” asked Rose. “What did he expect of you that he acts like I’m more to blame?”

“I think it is his loyalty to me that has him on edge. After everything that’s happened in the last year, the last six months, all he wanted to do was to support me. He vowed to support me even when I wanted nothing to do with him, which wasn’t too long ago, mind you. Now he has to go against his conscience to keep that promise.”

Rose sighed. “Forgive me Sev, but I think it’s more to do with the fact that this had to happen just as the two of you were becoming friends.”

As much as he loved her, Severus felt as though Rose had just hit him below the belt. He still had a difficult time talking about his relations with his one-time nemesis, even with her. He also wasn’t very keen on talking about how stressful the sudden decline of those relations had been for him lately. But Rose wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t think she was on to something. Sometimes, Severus thought, she just knew him a little too well.

“I would be lying to you if I told you that I was unaffected by that,” he said. “It took a great many years, but I was actually starting to like having someone I could talk to about…about anything, really. However, I will be honest with you, Rose. I got by without Remus Lupin as my friend, and I can do it again.”

“Don’t say things like that, Sev,” said Rose. “I would hate to see you lose a decent friendship because of me.”

Severus let out a sigh as he pulled his wand out of his robes to summon twenty-five test tube racks. “I like to believe that Remus will come around eventually, but I’m afraid that might be out of our hands, love. The most we can do now is hope that the mangy mutt puts his heart before his head.”

“You mean like we did?” asked Rose, a curious, flirty glimmer in her eye. Severus however rolled his ebony eyes at her and pointed to the little wooden racks. “Don’t try that with me, Rosie. It is far too early and we don’t have nearly enough time. Just arrange those racks, we can make love later.”

“If you say so,” said Rose, rolling her own bright blue eyes. She took a rack in each hand and started placing them at work stations. “But do you think things will get better between me and Lupin? I mean, do you think he will ever really be on our side?”

“We can only hope,” said Severus, running his eyes down the parchment that contained his lesson plan. He would have continued on saying that he thought that to be very doubtful, but he didn’t want to make Rose feel any worse than she probably already did.

**~HP~**

The news of Poppy’s discovery about the Wolfsbane Potion spread quickly through the Heads of House, and all of them shared the same concern that sent Remus barging into Severus’s quarters. They were so concerned that Albus called a special meeting as soon as the news reached his office. They were meant to have a full staff meeting that Saturday anyway, so why not have their little group meet up beforehand? Severus was obviously wary of the idea at first; the discussion would be in the staffroom, which was not the most guarded place in the castle. But after a promise from Albus that the door would be momentarily locked, as well as a realization that the staffroom was more practical than Albus’s high office, he resigned to the idea. He didn’t need any more arguing these days.

They had been talking back and forth for almost an hour before everyone agreed that it would have to be a student who would take over the brewing of Remus’s desperately needed potion. When the idea was first proposed by the headmaster, both Minerva and Poppy immediately objected. Both of them, worried for Remus’s wellbeing, thought that a student was far too inexperienced to take on such a complex potion, and that they would be risking Remus’s health and safety. But then Filius voiced what Remus and Severus already knew. There was simply no way to bring in an outside source without an explanation for Severus’s inability to brew that particular concoction. And Remus was quite adamant in his position; he was willing to take the risk if need be, just as long as Severus and his unborn child were safe. And this student would have Severus himself guiding them through the first month’s brewing. If his teaching was anything like his success rate suggested, he would have no trouble teaching this potion to a competent Seventh year.

But then of course came the difficult part, which was deciding on a Seventh year to saddle with the task. Everyone agreed that it would have to be one of the five who were aware of Severus’s pregnancy, but that would leave them with an extremely limited choice. Granger’s name was obviously the first one put forward, but the harsh sneer from Severus alerted everyone to how he felt about that. Potter and Weasley were both also eliminated because of their lackluster history with potions, much to the chagrin of Albus. That left Malfoy and Beckett. Wanting to maintain deep discretion in Remus’s presence, Severus went against his better judgment and suggested Draco’s name. But Minerva was skeptical. She actually went to the extent of summoning both his and Rose’s marking records, just to compare how both of them faired in Potions over the years. She then turned them to the others to point out her findings. The truth was there in black and white; though Draco managed rather well, Rose consistently had better grades in Severus’s class. She had an O on her O.W.L. exam, and this term’s marks suggested that she was well on her way to a top N.E.W.T. score. Out of those that Severus would agree to, she was the most proficient, and she was the most reliable. Remus bit his tongue as everyone unanimously agreed.

Once that unpleasant business was taken care of, Albus flicked his wand at the door, unlocking it in time for the remainder of the faculty to start wandering in for the actual staff meeting. Seeing the long look on Severus’s face, the headmaster gave the younger wizard a pat on the shoulder before sitting himself back down in his chair.

**~HP~**

Remus sat huddled by the roaring staffroom fireplace as he watched members of faculty file out of the room, weary from discussions of pensions and extra-curricular funds. Quite a few of them were shooting some nasty glares at Cassandra as she skirted out, not pleased that she would be getting a lump sum from Dumbledore himself so that she could take her classes into London to see some Muggle theatre. But again, Remus could hardly argue. Culture was important for children, he thought, and they should be exposed to all sorts. And in the end, it was him who seconded the motion to the tune of his colleagues’ aggravated groans. The last to get up and leave were a subdued Albus and Minerva, leaving Remus alone with Severus the quiet room.

For a moment, Remus tried to ignore the Potions master. There hadn’t been that much small talk between them the last few days, and he certainly wasn’t going to start a chummy conversation now. Instead, he tried to occupy himself by poking the burning embers in the hearth. But he stopped abruptly when he heard a low grunting behind him. He turned his head to see Severus slowly lifting himself out of his chair at the table. He couldn’t see the Potions master’s face, but Severus’s hand went right to his lower back as soon as he was steady on his feet.

“You alright there, Severus?” asked Remus, noticing the pained look in Severus’s eyes as he turned around.

“I’m fine, Lupin,” Severus bit out, massaging the small of his back. “Just dandy, how kind of you to notice.”

Remus shook his head with a short roll of amber eyes. “Your back is bothering you again, I take it?”

“Not my back as much as this damn charm,” snarled the Potions master. Now he understood why Poppy only wanted him to use his Glamour Charm for only so long. It had been nearly five hours since he had cast the charm on himself, and by then, he was feeling a growing pressure around his abdomen, which was not being helped by the twinge in his back. The baby was also starting to act up, summersaulting to and fro in his concealed belly. Apparently, he or she was starting to feel a little cramped. Severus rubbed at his middle to try and soothe his unborn child.

“Why don’t you take it off then?” asked Remus, motioning towards the sofa. “Don’t mind me.”

Severus was a little skeptical about Remus suddenly reverting back to the concerned colleague role, but he carefully took out his wand, and after a minute or two of tactful glaring at the lycanthrope professor, he lifted the charm. He then eased down onto the soft sofa cushions before the fire, lifting his feet up to rest them on the coffee table and resting his hand on the protruding bump. The two wizards sat in awkward silence for a while, neither of them having any immediate business that would prevent them from staying. But Remus soon grew weary of twiddling his thumbs and bouncing his leg, and he moved over to the opposite end of the sofa. He allowed himself a moment of laxness and planted his left foot on the aging table in front of them.

“So…” he sighed, watching Severus’s thin fingers trace circles on his belly. “How long has she really known about the baby?”

“I assume you are referring to Rose,” said Severus, his voice low. He let a set of leery black eyes wander to the werewolf, half-amused by his attempts to chat after days of near silence. “Very clever of you to make that conclusion yourself.”

“The way she acted the day of that potions accident, it makes sense,” said Remus. “So tell me, how long has she known?”

“Since Christmas,” Severus sighed, resting his cheek in his hand. “I told her because my condition was getting to be too difficult to miss. And the truth be told, I wanted to be the one to tell her. She’s honest with me about everything, I thought she deserved the same from me.”

“Christmas…” Remus whispered, half to himself, thinking out loud. “But you were hundreds of miles away from each other that week.”

“Never underestimate the power of the Muggle railway system,” said Severus, shaking his head gently.

It took several minutes of pondering for Remus to connect the dots and understand what that meant. Once the realization dawned on him, Remus let out a long groan. “Sweet Merlin, she was with you in Yorkshire?! For Prospero’s sake, Severus, is there no length that you won’t go to?”

“What’s done is done, Remus.”

“It’s bloody amazing,” gasped Remus. “To think that we all agreed to guard this secret with our lives, and yet you don’t think to do the same.”

“I have told more than a few secrets to Rose while she worked in my classroom, and she has stayed silent on every last one of them. And I have done the same for her. We trust each other, Remus. I know, difficult to believe that a girl who has known me throughout that war could ever trust me the way Rose does.”

“It would be foolish,” said Remus. He once again avoided eye contact with the visibly pregnant wizard. “I must ask, how did she react when you told her? Was she as supportive then as she is now?”

“Not at first, but she warmed up pretty quickly,” said Severus. “You know, Remus, you don’t have to be talking to me. I know you would much rather be criticizing my choices, or perhaps insulting Rose’s judgment. She is under the impression that you think she is a slut.”

Remus snarled in his throat. “I never said she was a slut.”

“Then what would you call an eighteen year-old girl who sleeps with her teacher, twice her age?”

“I don’t know what the hell I would call her!” growled Remus, now annoyed. “Look here, Severus. I’m trying to be supportive. I want to be able to be happy for you, I really do! But there are things about Rose that I just can’t get past. For one, I have no idea how much in common you could have an eighteen year-old girl. Rose might be the apple of your eye when she’s working over a cauldron, but I know that at the end of the day, she cares about people, clothes, jewels, and makeup. As mature as she is – and that is a term I use loosely – she’s still a typical girl.”

“She spent her entire adolescence with frivolous bimbos. I would be surprised if she didn’t end up that way. Honestly Remus, I don’t care if Rose reads _Witch Weekly_ as if it were a holy book. The point is that she doesn’t use that rubbish to try and garner attention the way Miss Brown or the Patil girls would. And if you must ask my opinion, she doesn’t need it. She never did need it.”

“You did pick one of the pretty ones,” Remus again mused aloud. “I’m sorry Severus, but I can’t seem to find any good in this. If I can ask, just take a moment and try to see this from my point of view. I really do like Rose; she’s a delightful young lady. But when it comes down to it, my friendship with you matters more. I want to see you happy with your life and your choices. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“What do you mean?” asked Severus, the tension suddenly ebbing away. That made Remus a little nervous, and he prepared himself for whatever could be thrown at him as he breathed in to continue.

“What I mean is that Rose’s youth is something that you may come to regret. Alright, for argument’s sake, let’s take her status as a student out of the equation. You two are just an ordinary couple, with a twenty year age difference. What I’m afraid might happen is that Rose might get tired of being with someone so much older than she is, and she might…and she might take up with a man closer to her age.”

Severus was silent for a while, staring into the blaring flames in the fireplace. But then those dark eyes shifted to Remus. “You think that has never crossed my mind? Remus, I cannot tell you how many times I have worried about exactly that, how many nights I watched Rose sleeping beside me, wondering why the hell she would want to be with a man like me. We both know that there are better looking men out there, and that’s without this unnatural pregnancy. The further along I get, the more I worry that Rose might finally be turned off, and she might go looking elsewhere. But Rose has told me time and time again that she loves and accepts me no matter what. And for now, I trust that.”

“But where does it go from there?” asked Remus. “What would happen after you’ve had your baby? Would Rose be so keen to stick around then?”

“If Rose didn’t accept the baby, I doubt she would have stuck around this long,” said Severus. “Look Remus, I know what you are trying to ask me. No, I don’t see an end in sight for us. When you believed that I was having a harmless little tryst with a nameless witch, you told me that I should take it slow. And you know what? That is exactly what Rose and I are doing. We don’t know what the future may bring us, but for now, we are enjoying our time together. And mind you, I only get to see her so many hours out of the day, so that time is precious.”

“You’re serious about this,” said Remus, shifting his body toward the Potions master. “You really love her that much? But it’s only been two months. Are you so sure about her?”

“I might not be sure of where we will be at year’s end, but I am definitely sure about her. After eighteen years, I didn’t think that I could ever feel that love again, and yet Rose came out of nowhere to surprise me…much the way she always has.” Severus let his lips ease into a gentle smile, coaxing the same out of Remus. He had to admit, it was rather honorable of Severus to admit all this. He after all remembered how long it took for him to speak of his feelings for Nymphadora, and he knew that this took a great deal of courage.

He briefly wondered what was going on inside Severus’s head that moment, to speak of a secret affair that had finally gotten a small taste of freedom.

Remus was about to rise from the sofa when Severus suddenly gasped sharply. He automatically snapped his head to the pregnant wizard, a rush of concern shooting through his veins. Severus sat in a stoic still, his face etched with some kind of pain and his hand resting on his belly. “Are you alright?” asked Remus. “Is the baby okay?”

“I’m fine. The little bugger’s just trying to break one of my ribs,” said Severus. He rubbed at the spot in a steady motion, hoping to calm the unborn back into stillness. “It’s actually been moving quite a lot lately.”

“Oh really? Well, how about that.” Remus carefully moved closer, grateful for the break in tension. More than that, he was fascinated by the sight. At six months along, this pregnancy had really softened the hard Potions master, not that anyone would dare say that to Severus’s face. It a bit strange to see this dark, austere man stroking his rounded stomach like it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it was also strangely comforting. After seeing these brief, fleeting moments, the thought of Severus Snape raising a child wasn’t so frightening after all.

The child kicked again inside Severus, and the Potions master winced. Remus couldn’t help but titter a little bit. “You’ve got yourself a wee Beater, don’t you?”

“Slytherin’s next greatest,” said Severus, his dry wit slipping into the conversation. “I’m almost compelled to ask if your son was this active in utero.”

“Oh, he was!” Remus chortled. “He was particularly active at night. There were some nights when Dora hardly got any sleep because he was jumping around so much.”

“Hmm, it’s nice to know that I was spared that delightful setback,” said Severus. He turned his head, and he saw how Remus could not take his eyes off his stomach or his stroking hand. In those deep amber wells, Severus could see some sense of longing. Perhaps Remus was missing his little boy a bit too much, or perhaps he had let his thoughts drift back to his late wife. Either way, Severus felt something that could have been construed as sympathy, and in spite of his current feelings toward the DADA professor, he motioned for Remus to come closer. “Here, come feel.”

“You would let me?” asked Remus, raising his brow. Severus had been terribly touchy about his body since becoming pregnant, and he hardly ever allowed people’s hands to come anywhere near his midriff. So it was surprising to Remus that Severus would offer him the chance to feel his child moving inside him, especially after the last few days. Severus just nodded at him. “I can tell you want to. Take it while I’m feeling generous.”

Well, perhaps there was some hope for their friendship after all. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Remus reached out his hand and gently pressed it to Severus’s belly. Carefully, Severus took that hand and guided it slightly upwards. “Right here,” he said, and they waited. When Remus felt a hearty jab against his palm, he let out a chuckle.

“Oh Severus, that’s amazing!” he said, his smile widening.

“Yes, Rose thought the same when she felt it for the first time,” Severus explained. “Actually, it was what made her fully believe that I was pregnant.”

“Hmm, now I can see why she can hardly keep her hands off you. Who would want to miss a moment of this?”

“You say that because you’re not the one being kicked in the liver at odd hours,” Severus sneered weakly. But Remus ignored the sarcasm and said, “Oh admit it, Severus. You like this.”

“You mean the kicking, or you invading my personal space?”

Suddenly from behind, there was a crash of glass hitting stone. Jerked back into reality, Severus and Remus whirled around in the direction of the door. Cassandra was standing in the archway, the door swinging closed behind her. Her hand was still in the shape of the glass goblet that had just slipped out of it, and a stack of papers fell from the other at her side. The two wizards looked at her face, seeing that her lips had pursed into a tight bud, and her cheeks had gone two shades of white. Her brown eyes were wide open as she stared inertly at them.

“Cassie!” Remus yelped, yanking his hand back to his side. He had totally forgotten that the staffroom door was no longer locked, and other teachers could come and go as they pleased. And having been caught in such an intimate situation, he fought to produce words that could even attempt to get him and Severus out of this. “What are you doing here?”

“What were you two just doing?!” squeaked Cassandra, not even bothering to explain her presence.

“Doing? We weren’t doing anything, were we Severus?”

Severus, who was struggling to cover himself up in his robes, also seemed to be at a loss for words. “Nothing at all,” he breathed.

“You were touching him,” Cassandra accused, pointing an accusing finger at Remus. “And Severus, he’s…he’s…he’s a little heavier than he was thirty minutes ago.”

“Cassie, it’s not what it looks like…” Remus tried to say, but the witch shook her head violently. “Then what is this?!”

“Cassandra, calm down,” urged Severus, holding his robes closed over his abdomen.

“Remus, what’s going on here?” begged Cassandra, panic bubbling up into her doe eyes. “Why were you touching Severus like that? What was he talking about, kicking?”

Remus swallowed painfully. Cassandra had obviously seen more than they could explain, and it seemed that there would be no better explanation than the truth. He also realized that if it had been Albus in his place, the old headmaster would tell her without batting an eyelash. So taking in a deep, nervous breath, he started rambling. “Listen Cassie, I know this seems ridiculous, but there will be time for explanations later. What you saw was…you see, Severus, he’s…well he’s…he’s pregnant.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened even further to impossible dimensions, and she turned even paler. She looked at Severus as he stood, and he let his robes drop open to reveal his swollen stomach. All three were deathly silent as Cassandra fully took in the sight. She swallowed, and her hands trembling. After what seemed like an hour, she blinked her eyes and exhaled.

The Muggle Studies teacher then promptly fainted onto the stone floor.

**~HP~**

“There we go, Wicker, welcome back. That’s a girl.”

Cassandra came to after what could have been an eternity in the dark, awakened by Severus gently tapping her cheek. She could feel something cool on her forehead, and she opened her eyes to see the damp cloth in Remus’s hand. Her head ached atrociously, and the weakness in her limbs caused a slight tremble. Cassandra had to press a hand to her temple as she sat up and rode out the short whirl of dizziness.

“Whoa…oh sweet Merlin, that was a doozy,” she breathed.

“I should say so,” Severus commented. “And I thought that those who work with Muggles had nerves of steel.”

“Now Severus, stop that,” said Remus. “The woman just passed out, for magic’s sake.”

At that lovely little reminder as to why the room was spinning, Cassandra’s eyes darted down to the source of her sudden fainting. She stared at Severus’s swollen abdomen, the bump so strange, so out of place on his thin frame. She knew it was impossible, and yet the silhouette was unmistakable. They couldn’t have possibly been telling her that truth! She was just seeing things! Confused and still a little unsteady, Cassandra reached out a trembling finger and ever-so-gently prodded Snape’s stomach.

“Do you mind?” the Potions master objected, batting her hand away. He then laid his hand over his bump in a protective fashion.

“Honestly Severus, let her feel the baby, just so she knows she’s not hallucinating.”

Severus glared at Remus suspiciously, but he did lower his hand, allowing Cassandra to lay hers on the curve of his stomach. As though sensing this strange touch, the unborn baby lashed out with a hard kick, making the flustered Muggle Studies teacher jerk back. Cassandra’s brow wrinkled to an almost painful extent; she was definitely not imagining things! There could be no other explanation to what she just felt. But no matter the logic, it was boggling nonetheless. Cassandra turned her dizzy head to Remus and muttered helplessly, “Remus…am I…am I losing it, or –,”

“No Cassie, I’m afraid you’re not,” Remus told her, shaking his head in a sympathetic manner.

“So Severus is…I mean, he’s really…you say there’s actually…”

“Yes,” said Remus. “I know it’s a shock, but it’s true. He’s six months gone, and the baby is due in the spring.”

Cassandra turned to Severus, hoping that he would once again be the sarcastic, mean-spirited voice of reason she had come to know. But the Potions master just shook his head, flicking strands of black hair away from some terribly sincere dark eyes. “Take it from me, Cassandra,” he said, giving a little suggestive nod to the other wizard. “This man would never lie to you.”

“Sweet Merlin!” Cassandra gasped. “You really are pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Yes Cassandra, I believe we already established that,” said Severus. “Please don’t make me take my clothes off to prove it to you.”

“But…but how?”

“It’s a really long story,” said Remus, sitting himself down on the low table in front of the sofa. “Courtesy of a nasty curse from He-who-is-recently-deceased, though the effects weren’t discovered until last term.”

“You-know-who did this?” asked Cassandra, her eyes starting to widen in horror. But before she could get another word out, Severus held his hand up to her. “Only the spell that enabled it. Believe me, I would drown myself in the lake before being forced to carry the Dark Lord’s spawn.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Cassandra nodded her weak agreement. So the baby wasn’t Voldemort’s. That was comforting, wasn’t it? Of course, it had to be! But if it wasn’t his, then whose child was it? Cassandra had enough sense to know that there had to be someone else involved along the way; it takes two to make a baby after all. The bewildered witch looked back at Remus, now remembering the close position in which she found the two wizards. The look on Remus’s face had been so blissful, and so natural it seemed. Her stomach dropped when the unpleasant thought came to her. “Wait a minute! You two aren’t…I mean, Remus, you’re not…”

Severus and Remus looked at each other, but it dawned on both of them pretty quickly just what the woman was trying to say. Remus leapt to his feet, as did Severus, both waving hands violently through the air and rambling through stern, though stuttered denials. “No! No, no, it’s nothing like that!” Remus practically yelped. “He’s not – I mean _I’m not_ –!”

“He’s not the father!” Severus spoke up, jumping right to the facts. “We’re not in some kind of relationship either, if that’s what you think! Trust me, Wicker, we’re both straight.”

Cassandra sank back into the cushions, her perky cheerfulness completely gone. This was all too much for her; an unnaturally pregnant wizard, ties to Lord Voldemort, and the mistaken horror of Remus possibly being the father. She thought that she should be relieved, knowing that Remus was not only straight but also single, leaving him as fair game for her in the future. But it was difficult to see the positives when she was embarrassed beyond her worst nightmares. Cassandra took several deep breaths, trying to keep herself from crumbling any further in front of the two wizards.

“It’s official, I’ve spent too much time with Muggles,” she blankly said. “I spend one year in Muggle America, and what do I come back to? Third year Hufflepuffs can win beginner’s duels and men can get pregnant!”

“Well, you were a Hufflepuff,” said Remus, trying to be of some help to the poor woman. “Surely that’s one thing that doesn’t surprise you.”

“Don’t try to sugarcoat it, Remus,” said Cassandra. “And besides, it isn’t like there’s anything left in our world that can really surprise me. Severus having a baby…I’m out of my mind!”

The werewolf professor glanced at Severus, all black-eyed and nervy, and he let a long sigh. “Oh goodness, I think a visit with Albus is in order. He’ll be able to sort this out.”

“Indeed,” agreed Severus. He pointed a subtle finger at Cassandra, and tweaked his eyebrow in a discreet way that his companion just barely caught. “Why don’t you escort Cassandra up, Remus? Knowing Albus, I doubt he would want me walking up all those flights of stairs.”

“Yes, of course,” said Remus with a nod. Carefully, he offered Cassandra his arm, and he helped her to her feet. “Come along, Cassie. A little walking will loosen you up a bit. And I think Albus has some nice red wine somewhere in his office to take the edge off.”

“But – but what about –?” stuttered Cassandra, pointing at Severus while clinging to Remus’s forearm.

“He’ll be alright,” Remus assured her. “He’s a man after all. He can take care of himself. Let’s just get you sorted out.”

Cassandra looked like she needed some sorting out, Severus thought to himself. The ordinarily high-spirited witch had been reduced to nothing more than a wobbly, incoherent mess, hanging onto Remus as though he was her life-force. It was utterly pathetic really. She had surely seen stranger things in her many ventures into the Muggle world. This was a woman that many reckoned could not be fazed by anything. And yet here she was, struggling to comprehend what was so plainly laid out before her. Again, Severus felt a small pang of sympathy tugging at him as he watched Remus usher Cassandra out of the staffroom and into the halls, bound for the headmaster’s office.

It wasn’t until after they were gone and he himself was about to leave when Severus realized what had actually just happened. In the quiet chaos of reviving and stabilizing Cassandra, he had forgotten that she was probably the last person he would want to accidently discover his pregnancy.

**~HP~**

“What a bloody fucking nightmare!” Severus said as he climbed into bed. “How could we have been so stupid? How could _I_ have been so stupid?!””

Already tucked in next to him, Rose sat propped up with pillows, a copy of _Witch Weekly_ lying against her legs. Red hair lay about her shoulders and breast in smooth, newly-brushed waves. Flipping over a page in her magazine, she turned to look at Severus with soft eyes. “You really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Sev. It was an honest mistake. You and Lupin aren’t perfect, and you don’t let just anyone feel the baby moving.”

“It wasn’t the act as much as it was the timing, Rose,” said Severus. He slowly ran his hand down the curve of his abdomen, smoothing out the creases in his nightshirt. “Of all people that had to walk into that room at that _exact_ moment, it had to be her!”

“Forgive me love, but I don’t really see what the fuss is about. So Professor Wicker found out about the baby, so what? She’s been to see Dumbledore, so she’s obviously been sworn to secrecy by now. And when you think about it, we’re lucky that it was just her and not a whole group. We should have nothing to worry about, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Rose, you’re missing the point,” Severus ground out, tugging the covers over his legs to settle down beside her. “Wicker couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. Between her and Rubeus Hagrid, you couldn’t find anyone worse for the job. She’s a large part of the reason why the entire staff doesn’t know about my condition. I can’t trust her the way I trust the others.”

“I can,” said Rose, very bluntly. “And as a matter of fact, I do.”

Severus collapsed back against the pillows, swallowing the urge to snarl at his girlfriend. What use was there in trying to make a point to this girl if she was going to take Wicker’s side? But then again, Severus thought, he should have seen this coming. He had never heard of a student spending as much time as Rose had with Wicker without a bond forming. With those bonds came a certain amount of loyalty, which frequently could not be challenged. And Rose was just one of those students who would not turn their back on beloved professors for anything. It was official; Cassandra Wicker had taken Charity Burbage’s place in the Gryffindor’s heart.

Rose let him sit in this sulk for only a minute before she closed her magazine and set it down on the bedside table by her shed charm bracelet and pendant locket. She then turned onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. Her slender fingers gently brushed feather-light strokes over Severus’s chest.  “Look Severus, I know you too well. It’s not the secret that’s bothering you. You just don’t like Professor Wicker. You think she’s annoying, loud-mouthed, and overly gregarious.”

“And absentminded, we mustn’t forget that.”

“Oh shut it, you sneering git,” Rose scorned before continuing. “Alright, I’ll give something to you. She is quite a bit to handle for some people, but so are you when you think about it. What I ask of you is that you try and look at Professor Wicker from a positive standpoint. Take it from me, Severus, she has a lot of great qualities that will be useful to us. She’s sincere, she’s loyal, she’s trustworthy –,”

“She’s a Hufflepuff,” Severus sarcastically offered up, and Rose nodded briskly.

“Exactly,” she said. “If I’ve learned anything since I met Professor Wicker, it’s that when she’s asked to do something, she goes above and beyond what’s required of her. She would allow herself to be sacked before letting your secret slip out.”

“That still doesn’t do a thing for her unbearable disposition,” said Severus. He carefully hooked an arm around Rose’s neck and tugged her closer to his side. “I’ll never hear the end of it from now on. No doubt that if I were a woman, perhaps even if it had been _you_ having a baby, Wicker would be the first to throw one of those insufferable baby showers.”

“You mean you don’t want one?” teased Rose, flicking black hair out of Severus’s eyes. The pregnant Potions master sniggered in his throat. “Don’t even try that with me, Rose. I refuse to be held hostage by some ravenous, maternally-driven women and made to sit through such mindless drivel.”

“It’s not mindless drivel when you get free stuff out of it,” Rose pointed out, but Severus wasn’t having any of it. He decided to shut her up with a long kiss. Rose leaned into her lover’s mouth, coming up to lie across his chest, relishing in his taste. When she peeled herself away to regain her breath, she rested her head down and listened to Severus’s heartbeat.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she softly said. “Do you think I’ll be any good at making the Wolfsbane Potion?”

“Of course,” said Severus, massaging Rose’s scalp. “If Lupin hadn’t been in the room, I would have put your name forward first. Draco is like a nephew to me, but I would take your potions over his any day, and sharing my bed with you has nothing to do with it.”

“But no one makes a better version of that potion than you. Aren’t you nervous about me taking over?”

“Are you?” Severus asked frankly. Rose faltered for a moment before regaining herself with a sigh. “Someone’s health is in my hands, Severus. If I screw this up, Lupin suffers because of it. How is that not nerve-wracking?”

“Trust me, Rose, you will be fine,” said Severus. “I wouldn’t have allowed it if I didn’t think you could do it. I will be there to guide you through the first batch, if that’s what you are worried about. But once you get past that, I have full confidence that you will be able to produce a proper potion before each full moon.”

Rose nuzzled closer to Severus, now letting her eyes begin to drift closed. “I don’t want to hurt Professor Lupin,” she muttered into Severus’s nightshirt.

“You won’t,” Severus reassured her. He placed a kiss on her pale forehead before relaxing back. “If you ask me, he might learn to appreciate you a bit more after you get him through next month’s transformation. He truly hates the sheer mindless, animalistic nature of his condition, and he should be grateful that you are willing to take the time to help him with it.”

_‘He won’t be grateful when I accidently poison him,’_ Rose thought to herself. It was odd that even though she fancied herself a fine potioneer, Rose could not have been more apprehensive about this particular brew. She knew after all how tedious and difficult it was, and several times she thought about passing the task over to Hermione. But Severus felt that she could do it, and that had to mean something. He really wouldn’t have mentioned her if she wasn’t at the proper skill level, no matter how often they shagged. Rose fell asleep that night trying to look at this as the biggest apprenticeship opportunity she would ever get, to be taught one of the most complicated potions by one of Britain’s best Potions masters, the only comforting scenario she could concoct out of this.

It would be a long three weeks before the next full moon.


	60. Hermione

It had been a long time since Hermione was last truly happy with her life. Throughout all her days and experiences, no matter how loved and provided for she was at home, she had never been satisfied with where she was. And the reason for that actually turned out to be rather simple. There just always seemed to be something missing. She was an only child who often only had books for company growing up. Not only that, but she was a brainy child without anyone to challenge her, or even respect that thirst for knowledge. She finally found companionship when she journeyed to Hogwarts for the first time, but going about life with only boys for friends always left Hermione feeling like something was lacking. The other girls had better people to talk to, so there was nothing she could do about that. But Hermione managed without that interaction for a long time. It wasn’t until she got older that she realized how unfulfilled her life could be without a man by her side, loving her as she did him. Lord Voldemort’s imminent takeover aside, all Hermione really wanted was Ron’s affection, and yet it always seemed to be out of reach, separated by miles apart, Lavender’s clinging hands, or even the clutches of Lord Voldemort himself. There was a time when Hermione thought she would die without ever knowing what it was like to feel the ultimate happiness that only true love could bring forth.

But then everything changed.

Hermione often wondered if she was living in some kind of dream to have a life like the one she had now. For once, she had everything she could ask for and then some. Aside from the fact that people looked up at the Head Girl with some genuine esteem instead of a common know-it-all, she had around her the circle of friends that her lonely younger self often wished for.

Harry was still there for her. With everything that was stacked against him in those months leading up to the battle, it was truly a miracle that the boy lived to see the light of the morning after. He shouldn’t have survived, many said. Hermione herself had prepared herself many times over for the very real possibility that she might lose her best friend. And yet there he was, alive and kicking, and now returned as Hogwarts’ most famous Head Boy of all time. But in the end, all the fame and regard did not matter one bit because Harry didn’t change one bit. He was the Savior of the Wizarding world to everyone else, but to Hermione, he was the same old Harry. And he was the same old Harry who would now always be there to pick her up when she was down, encouraging her through tough times with his strong support.

Rose had certainly been an unexpected friendship going into this new year, but a welcome one nonetheless. In fact, Hermione was almost grateful for the circumstances that brought them together to form a tighter bond than they had when they were young. Ginny had made up for the lack of female companionship many times, but even when the youngest Weasley was attending Hogwarts, there were still some things that separated them, whether it be their age, academics, or the especially uncomfortable fact that Ginny was Ron’s sister. With Rose, Hermione felt like they were more alike. Rose was a girl after her own heart, Hermione once thought to herself. Their personalities were both on the more reserved side in comparison to some of their housemates. They both had a certain dedication to their schoolwork, often bouncing ideas off each other for inspiration. And as much as it annoyed her at times, Hermione liked that Rose gave her a run for her money in their Potions lessons. But ultimately, what Hermione liked about Rose was her quiet, compassionate soul, which allowed Hermione to open up her heart to her. How many times had Hermione vented, complained, and lamented in their little dormitory, and Rose had never batted an eyelash. It felt good to finally have a girl-friend that she could count on from outside the Weasley family.

But even with all the glory of wartime victory and thriving camaraderie, it was all secondary to Hermione, and it was all because she had Ron. Hermione still wondered beyond wonder how an old childhood friend could turn out to be the love of her life. When she was a brand new First year, she might have given a year’s allowance to never see the redheaded dunderhead again. But now eight years later, there wasn’t a single thing about him she would change. She loved him for both his dim moments, and his moments of tremendous courage. She loved him for his compassion, and his blunt honesty. She loved him for everything he was, and more importantly, he loved her just as much, if not more. She would never be alone again as long as he was in her life.

Life after Voldemort certainly wasn’t perfect. But at least, for the first time, Hermione felt whole.

**~HP~**

A light snow was falling on the morning of Valentine’s Day. For the first time in she could not remember how long, Hermione was excited about this gaudy little holiday, mostly because she finally had someone to share it with. Sure enough, as soon as she entered the sitting area of the common room, all decorated in hearts and paper garlands, Ron was standing there with a small bouquet of pink and white roses. Feeling the instant rush of passion, Hermione rushed over and threw herself into Ron’s arms, giggling into the crook of his neck.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you anything nicer,” said Ron, hugging Hermione’s shoulders. “I’d have liked to give you something a little more sparkly, like Bill and the gold necklace he’s giving Fleur.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Hermione. She took the sides of her boyfriend’s face in her hands, and she placed a kiss on his lips. “Even if you didn’t have a single sickle to your name, I would still love you. Anything you give me is precious.”

Ron’s lips tugged into an eager smile. “Oh, then just wait until I get you alone after lunch. I’m sure Rose won’t mind looking after lonesome Harry for a while.”

“Oh, will you stop that,” Hermione laughed, taking the flowers in her hands. “If Dumbledore didn’t have those wards up around the grounds, I’m sure Harry would have already escaped to the Burrow.” Ron it seemed still didn’t appreciate jokes about Harry being with his sister, but he did offer a short chuckle as he took Hermione’s hand and led her out of the common room.

Harry and Rose were already sitting at the Gryffindor table when the young couple arrived to breakfast, but to their slight surprise, their only other companions were Neville and Luna, who were feeding each other bites of French toast. Due to the romantic nature of the day, house lines were somewhat blurred, and couples sat together at tables not entirely their own. In this case, that meant that Lavender was over with Justin and the other Hufflepuffs, and Parvati, Dean, and Seamus had all migrated over to the Ravenclaw table. Only Slytherin managed to keep a more uniform appearance, with not many other people breaking the lines of green and silver.

As they sat down, Hermione instantly noticed Rose across the table. The red-haired witch looked to be concentrated on her meal, but Hermione saw that her hand hovered at her breast, stroking the silver locket she wore around her neck. She remembered how she first saw it when they all returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, but it wasn’t until recently that Hermione noticed how Rose wore it almost constantly, only taking it off to sleep and shower. At first, Hermione thought it was a gift from Rose’s mother, but as time went by, it became clear (to her at least) that it was actually from Rose’s secret suitor. The only way to know for sure would be to have Rose pry open the locket and show what was inside, which Hermione could never ask of her friend.

Although, she might not be as in the dark as she thought, because she also observed how Rose was wearing her charm bracelet much more often too. It was true that she had a bit more freedom to do so, now that Harry’s little wolf’s head charm had taken some of the pressure off. But what stood out was that Rose had not removed the silver heart, nor the inscription they had engraved into it. Hermione couldn’t be too sure because Rose never said a word about it. But she had a very sneaking suspicion that Rose’s invisible date might not be as unfamiliar as they thought.

Perhaps, unbeknownst to them, the mysterious _All-my-affection_ had found his way back into Rose’s life.

When the mail started arriving, a shower of cards and flowers started falling down onto their tables and heads. Some of it was from Muggle lovers in faraway parts of the country, but much of it was gifts ordered by male students for their girlfriends. Having already gotten her present, Hermione tried her best to avoid the oncoming objects as she ate her breakfast. She looked across the table at Rose and tweaked her eyebrows with a smile. Rose however seemed to ignore the opportunity for a snappy comeback because she stayed terrifically mum. She just tilted her head to the ceiling and watched the rain of flippant love affirmations.

But suddenly from the cloud of objects came a low flying screech owl, carrying a larger bundle in its talons. It swooped over the little group, and when it was just over their heads, it dropped its load. Rose stood to catch the tissue-wrapped bundle of a half dozen, crimson red roses.

“Well, what have we here?” asked Harry, his amusement slightly muted today. “Roses for a Rose on Valentine’s Day? That’s a little cliché, isn’t it?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Rose admitted, setting the bouquet down on the table and fishing out the card enclosed in the leaves. “With a name like mine, you learn to take the joke.”

“I can imagine,” Harry thought out loud as he wondered if his Uncle Vernon ever had the thought to buy petunias in a pitiful attempt to honor his wife’s namesake. “So who’s the poor sucker this time?”

“Let me read the card, will you?” teased Rose. There was a certain flicker in the corner of her eye that showed Hermione that she already knew who these flowers were from.

“It’s not another secret admirer, is it?” Ron piped up. “Boy Rose, you go about courtship in the strangest way. I suppose you’ll be getting a marriage proposal by owl too?”

Rose just glared at Ron before directing her eyes down to the tiny scrap of parchment in her hand. As she read, she cracked the smallest, but most charming smile. And Hermione, deciding to be the polite one at the table, asked the only obvious question. “Who’s it from, Rose?”

Rose looked up, glancing warily at the boys. But then she smiled at Hermione and said, “See for yourself.” She set the note down on the table and slid it over to the Head Girl. Harry and Ron seemed to get the message that they were not welcome in this conversation, though they couldn’t see why. They turned their heads with a roll in their eyes. Once they were engaged elsewhere, she flipped the note over to read the delicate, albeit cramped script.

_You didn’t think that you would be ignored today, did you? I don’t like to waste time with dramatics, so I’ll keep this short. I love you more than words can describe, and I look forward to having you to myself later._

_All my affection_

**~HP~**

In years past, Hermione more times than not spent Valentine’s Day huddled in the library, desperately trying to escape other people’s equally desperate attempts to woo others. But who could have guessed that years later, she would have no problems ignoring the world on that day? While the rest of the Hogwarts population was cooped up in the castle, Hermione found herself out on the snow-covered grounds. Ron had taken her out there to set the scene for what turned out to be the make-out session of her life. With the dusty snow still coming down, with rays of sunlight breaking through every now and then, Hermione did not once notice the nip of the cold air. Her world in that moment revolved around Ronald Weasley; his strong arms, his gentle hands…his soft lips. Hermione didn’t even know that they were on the ground until she started to feel the wet of the snow through her clothes. Thank goodness they had time to dry themselves off before classes resumed!

Her romance aside for the time being, Hermione turned her attentions back to her studies, more specifically the Potions practical they had that afternoon.

That class had certainly become quite the experience of late. After accidently discovering Snape’s pregnancy, Hermione didn’t really know what to do with herself. She couldn’t laugh at Snape; that would be far too cruel. Snape was too proud to brush his condition off like it was no big deal, and stories from Rose after the accident confirmed this in Hermione’s mind. But at the same time, she couldn’t do what her heart was telling her to do, which was to do whatever she could to help Snape. It took everything Hermione had to stay in her seat while Snape stalked around the room, doing everything from handing out essay papers to demonstrating their lessons. Hermione felt her heart knot up in sympathy each time she saw Snape ease down into his chair, trying not to appear so tired from the long day’s work.

It was times like this that Hermione wished that Snape liked her and the others a little more, because then she wouldn’t have to feel so useless. But in the end, she had to resign to the fact that all she could really do was what she was asked to, and that was just to keep her eyes peeled. Snape was stubborn in his ways, and the fact that he carried a child surely hadn’t changed that. But if he ever did need assistance, at least Rose was always there to answer his call. The redheaded witch was already pining for Snape, even if her recent romantic ventures had dulled that a little. Add to that a large dose of maternal instinct, and Rose was virtually inseparable from the expectant wizard. Hermione was proud that her friend was doing her part and then some, although what she could possibly be doing for him that kept her out of the common room so late, she could hardly guess.

She had thought to confront Rose about her habit of walking up to bed just after curfew, but a thought came to Hermione after a while. Rose might not be spending all of that time with Snape. If the dreamy look on her face when she returned was any indication, she might have been using some evenings to be with her enigmatic boy-toy, _All-my-affection_ if it were. Hermione found it almost hard to believe that anyone could feel so strongly for two people, living one in reality while keeping the other firmly rooted in fantasy. But then again, there were lots of things about Rose that Hermione couldn’t explain, and she didn’t really need to. It didn’t make a bit of difference in their friendship, so why question any of it?

They were working on a complex antidote that afternoon. As custom, Snape spent the first forty minutes of the lesson laying out the details and finer points of the brewing process before letting them begin the potion on their own. As the professor spoke, Hermione could not help but to turn her eyes and watch Rose for a moment. She smirked at the attention that her friend paid to everything that was going on and everything that Snape said. It was actually rather amusing that the fact that having a crush on her teacher was having a positive impact on Rose’s performance. She was always a very capable brewer, but now she was almost fanatical in her efforts to create a perfect potion each time. Hermione would have assumed that Rose was simply preparing for her first attempt at the Wolfsbane Potion later that month. But of course, she knew better than that. The Head Girl wondered what would happen if Rose decided to write a self-help book for love-sick teenagers. She could likely make a small fortune off of that!

Many students were about half way through with their potions when Hermione noticed Rose abruptly stop what she was doing. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the red-haired witch took out a roll of parchment, tore off a corner, and then reached for her quill. Hermione was instantly curious as to what her friend was up to, and she couldn’t resist looking across their work stations and reading Rose’s neat, dainty handwriting.

_You didn’t forget me, and I certainly haven’t forgotten you. I’ll be along tonight, after dinner, and then you’ll get your payment for the gorgeous flowers._

_Love you…_

Well, well, what have we here?! Hermione felt a little burst of excitement as she watched Rose fold the note up and rest it at the edge of their shared desk. It was obvious that it was intended for _All-my-affection,_ and if it was what it appeared, he was a lot closer than they thought.

Hermione instantly started dividing her time between brewing her antidote, and looking around the room at the ragtag group of male suspects. Alright, she knew he was likely there in the room, but who was he? Right away eliminating the occupied Gryffindors, Hermione found herself looking at a few interesting possibilities. There had to be some underlying reason why Rose would not give any clues to her lover’s identity. Perhaps it had something to do with his house, Hermione thought. There was not much harm in Rose dating a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, although each had their own certain stereotypes attached to them that often became the butt of many jokes in Gryffindor tower. That however was nothing compared to the stigmas of Slytherin house, and Hermione felt a shudder as her eyes traveled over to the cluster of motely brutes on the far side of the room. She knew Rose could love a man who was a Slytherin, but not every Slytherin was like the late Dante Macleod. And these guys were as far away from Rose’s deceased friend as they could get. There was Gregory Goyle and Theodore Nott with their thuggish, violent dispositions. There was Malfoy, with his undying disdain for the impure of blood, as shown in his sham relationship with Pansy Parkinson. And then there was Blaise Zabini, who showed repeatedly that he had no respect for women in any way. Rose couldn’t possibly have gone for one of them! She couldn’t have, it was impossible!

She was so engrossed her thoughts that Hermione nearly forgot where she was.

Snape brooded about the classroom, staring into cauldrons as he went. Hermione at first thought that he didn’t see the note, but she realized her mistake when the Potions master suddenly looked over his shoulder at Rose’s work station. He started walking over to their table. Hermione not-so-gently nudged Rose on the arm, but Rose just ignored her. She seemed to be too concentrated on her work. Hermione felt her heart pounding against her breastbone as Snape stopped beside Rose, fearing for her friend’s secret romance and her dignity in the face of their classmates. But instead of looking down at the little folded bit of paper, Snape leaned over and peered into their cauldrons.

“Well done, ladies,” he droned, as though it was expected of him by now. Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief. It appeared to her that they were in the clear, and she felt her pulse slow down a bit. She was about to grab her knife and get back to her own potion when she suddenly saw something, something that very nearly stopped her heart altogether.

She watched as Snape slyly slid Rose’s folded note into his hand, and then tucked it up his sleeve. He then walked away as though nothing had happened.

Forcing the panic down, Hermione grasped at the sleeve of Rose’s robe, whispering her name as quietly as possible. Rose however batted away her hand. “Shut up, I’m busy,” she hissed as she very carefully added a small amount of Belladonna to her cauldron.

“But Rose, your –,”

“Not now, Hermione. We can talk later.”

Hermione wondered what the hell Rose could be thinking if she wasn’t concerned. Crush or no crush, Snape’s class was not one to pass notes in. At that thought, the harried Head Girl looked up at Snape, who had taken his place at his desk. He had removed the note from his cuff and was now unfolding it to read. Hermione again tried to get Rose’s attention, but to no avail. Was this girl out of her mind?! Hermione waited on bated breath for Snape’s reaction.

To her surprise, Snape did not make a spectacle of it. He did not call Rose out openly, mocking her love life in front of everyone. He just sat there and read quietly, his hand draped over the baby-bump that was so cleverly hidden by charms. Just when Hermione thought she might faint from the lack of oxygen, Snape’s eyes darted up to their table, more specifically Rose. And after a long moment’s stare, his thin lips twitched up into a subtle smirk. Masking her bewilderment, Hermione glanced at her friend beside her. Rose seemed to not pay much notice, but Hermione could see the faintest traces of a smile tugging at her roommate’s lips. She also saw the smallest twinkle in the Rose’s bright blue eyes, a look that Hermione was too familiar with by now. It was a look of gravity-defying love.

Realization hit Hermione over the head like a Bludger on a rampage. The note was intended for Snape? That was why Rose wasn’t panicking? No, it couldn’t be, there was no way! It was a harmless crush Rose had, nothing more! Hermione suddenly felt sick to her stomach as the memories of the past few weeks started flooding back to her. It all made sense now; the extra lessons between classes, the dulled reaction and rapid acceptance of Snape’s pregnancy, and the repeated late arrivals to bed. But Rose couldn’t have spent all of that time with Snape, could she? There couldn’t have been more to their relationship than a master and his student. Working herself into a panic, Hermione needed answers. And Rose was going to give them to her whether she liked it or not.

The class ended at the ringing of the bells, and all potions were bottled. Rose took her sweet time straightening up her half of the desk, and she seemed to linger in front of Snape’s desk for a little while longer than most would prefer when she handed in her bottle. All the while, Hermione impatiently waited, having already waved on Harry and Ron with a promise to meet them after their last class. For a brief moment, she thought to shepherd the girl out before she could start talking to their professor. But Rose did eventually pry herself out of her and Snape’s now bonded gazes, gathered her things and followed Hermione out.

There wasn’t a great deal of small talk between the girls as they walked up the stairs to the second floor. This was mostly due to the fact that Hermione was constantly scoping out their surroundings for a more private spot. It didn’t matter where they ended up, just as long as she was able to get Rose alone. She saw that opportunity as they approached the doors to a certain, long disused girls’ lavatory. Violently swift, Hermione grabbed Rose’s wrist and yanked her inside. She quickly shut the door behind them.

“No means to be rude, but aren’t you two supposed to be in class right now?” Moaning Myrtle’s decrepit voice came from above them.

“Myrtle, could you do me a huge favor and go and haunt the prefects’ bathroom for a while?” asked Hermione, looking up at the ghostly student. “I need to speak with Rose alone.”

“Well, I could. But you know that it’s always better when there are boys in the bath.”

“Myrtle…” Hermione’s warning voice was low, and most out of character. Not at all happy that she was being evicted from her bathroom, Myrtle squealed, “Fine! Have it your way!” With a wail that pierced the living girls’ eardrums, she did a quick summersault in midair before disappearing through the stone wall.  

“Okay Hermione,” Rose began. “What is so important that you have to banish Moaning Myrtle from her own haunting grounds?”

“What’s going on between you and Professor Snape?” Hermione boldly asked. Rose’s eyes shot open as though she had been shot, and she stumbled back a step.

“What?!” she gasped. “Me and Professor Snape? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. The look on Rose’s face was total bafflement, but to Hermione, it was as phony as anything Lord Voldemort ever said. “Rose, seriously, what’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing, Hermione,” said Rose, a bit more sternly. “Merlin, just because I have a thing for him doesn’t mean that –,”

“I saw the note!”

Rose froze where she stood. Her face then fell from defensiveness to a look of fear. “The note?”

“I saw you slip it to him in class,” Hermione explained. “And I saw him reading it when he thought no one was looking.”

Swallowing hard, Rose turned and began to slowly walk away toward the great stained glass windows. “Alright, so you saw my note. What makes you think that meant there’s something going on between us?” she asked to thin air.

“Forget-me-nots? Payment for the flowers? _Love you_?! I’m not stupid, Rose. I know that notes like that only mean one thing.”

There was no answer from Rose’s turned back, and Hermione could feel the frustration rapidly building up in her chest.

“Rose, are your feelings for him more than a crush?”

There was still no answer, which only served to confirm Hermione’s growing fears.

“Rose…are you seeing Professor Snape?”

There was another long, drawn out silence before Rose finally turned back around, and Hermione saw nothing but trepidation and disgrace in her eyes as she sighed and said, “…yes.”

Hermione felt her heart sink into her stomach. Now she really thought she was about to be sick! “How long?” she asked, trying to maintain control of her tone.

“Since December,” said Rose, nodding pitifully. Hermione had to lean against the stalls to keep herself from falling over as she took in this information. “Is that why you’ve been late every night? You’ve been sneaking around to be with him?”

“Yes.”

The energy drained from Hermione’s limbs and she sank down to the cold floor. Seeing this, Rose slowly walked back over and stood over her friend. “Hermione?”

“I can’t believe it,” the Head Girl gaped. “I just can’t believe it! You can’t be!” Rose sat down across from her and leaned her back against the wall.

“I suppose I have a bit of explaining to do, don’t I?” she said in a hushed voice.

“Like hell you do,” scolded Hermione. Rose flinched at the harshness in her friend’s ordinarily laidback, albeit proud tone. “How could you be so stupid, Rose?! An affair with a professor? What were you thinking?!”

“I can’t really explain it,” Rose said in earnest, but Hermione fired right back with, “Well try.”

Rose went stiff, her eyes staring into the floor like an answer would be waiting there. But then she visibly retreated into herself to think. She shifted in place, as though Hermione’s hard stare was causing her pain. But just when the agitated Head Girl was about to speak up, Rose looked back at her with a long expression.

“I fell in love.”

“Yes, I know that,” Hermione said with a hard emphasis in her tone. “But how did a crush on a professor become an illicit affair? Don’t tell me you were actually stupid enough to confess your feelings to Snape!”

“I didn’t have to because Severus beat me to the punch.”

Hermione froze at the mention of the Potions master’s given name, a name that should not have been leaving Rose’s lips. But that shock very quickly gave way to another as the weight of Rose’s statement began to set in. “Rose…you’re not saying what I think you are,” Hermione uttered, dearly hoping that in fact she wasn’t. But Rose simply tucked locks of red hair behind her ear and sighed.

“As it turned out, Severus felt the same way I did,” she said. “I never thought it could be possible, but it all came out the night of the ball. We’ve been together ever since.”

“You have got to be kidding!” Hermione staggered to her feet and started pacing about the lavatory. Rose also used her back to scale up the wall until she was standing again. Hermione continued. “You mean to say that Snape had feelings for you this whole time, and you were not freaked out by that? I don’t care how in love with him you were, you should have seen how disturbing that is.”

“It’s not disturbing when the feelings are mutual,” said Rose.

“You don’t get it, Rose!” Hermione snapped. “I don’t care if you thought Snape was your bloody soul-mate. He’s still a middle-aged wizard lusting after a girl half his age. Do you not see how messed up that is?”

“No, I don’t,” Rose boldly told her, aggression starting to creep into her own voice. “I know what I’m about to say will sound like a load of rubbish to you, but what Severus and I have is beautiful. Age is completely meaningless when there’s a true connection between two people.”

“Must you call him Severus?” asked Hermione, turning a slightly desperate eye to Rose.

“Well, considering that is his _name_ , I don’t see why not.”

Now Hermione’s head was spinning, causing her to grip the rim of a sink. There was no doubt in her mind that Rose was blinded by her own foolish lovesickness that she saw absolutely no fault in a much older man lusting after her, and ultimately pursuing her, if that was what Snape intended in opening up his classroom and office to her. And this nonsense of mutual feelings! Severus Snape was a man of very little emotion, and as far as anyone knew, the depth of his feelings only extended to one woman. Could he possibly care for Rose as deeply as she did him? Could he even love another? No, Hermione thought. This had to be Rose living in her own little fantasy land. As cynical as it made her feel, Hermione felt that there had to be another reason behind Snape’s actions. And the harder she thought, the more one particular motive outweighed the others.

“Did you sleep with him?” she asked. Ordinarily, Hermione wouldn’t ask such a daring question because in normal circumstances, it was not her business to know. She knew that others around her were sexually active; magical though they were, they were still teenagers. And while she wasn’t taking part in any of that, she wasn’t going to judge those who did. But these were not normal circumstances, nor was it a normal pair, and Hermione was assaulted by images of her best girl-friend being used and abused by their professor.

Rose must have seen the concern in Hermione’s eyes because she cocked her flaxen brow slightly. “If you must know, yes, I have,” she said, allowing Hermione a moment to gasp. “But before you jump to any conclusions, Severus did not rape me. Can’t say that I saw myself losing my virginity so soon, but it felt so right to me, and it still does.”

“So you’ve slept with Snape more than once then,” said Hermione, not really wanting to comprehend the idea. “To think, all this time, I thought you were receiving extra lessons down there when you were really bent over Snape’s desk.”

“Excuse me?” Rose snarled. “You don’t even know what goes on between Severus and I when we’re alone. What kind of a wench do you take me for?”

“A pretty big one if you’re shagging one of your teachers. And a pregnant one to boot!”

Rose clenched her hands at her side and she sailed over to where Hermione stood, stopping only a bare three feet away. “Look Hermione, I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” Hermione uttered. Her voice was low and wispy, and the lines across her forehead were well defined. “Sorry doesn’t cut it this time, Rose. I’ve seen you do some pretty reckless things, but this goes way beyond all of that. Did you not once think about what would happen if you got caught? You could be expelled for something like this!”

At that, Rose froze before she could get out a response. Slowly, her mouth closed as the look in her eyes turned cold and distant. She gripped the edge of another nearby sink, and she leaned her body against the cool porcelain. “I never thought about that,” she said in a low voice, almost as though she didn’t want to admit it to her friend.

“This is illegal, Rose,” explained Hermione. “It might not be considered statutory rape because of your age, but there is a major rule that Hogwarts professors cannot engage in sexual relations with their students. If that rule is broken, it is almost certain that the professor would be fired, stripped of their pensions and benefits, and if it is found that the student was an active participant in the illegal activity, it could be grounds for expulsion.”

“Is there nothing to do with Hogwarts you don’t know?” asked Rose. The redheaded witch swallowed hard as she hunched over. “Sweet Merlin…I always knew we were risking Severus’s job, but I never thought about me.”

“Sounds to me that Snape didn’t want you to know. He probably didn’t want you to worry. Of course, if he had any true respect for you, he would have let you think twice about how this relationship could affect you before doing anything.”

Rose’s fingers twitched, and Hermione feared that she had a slap coming to her. But before she had the chance to duck out of the way, Rose straightened herself up and cocked her head to one side. “Did you think twice before getting involved with Ron?”

Hermione was so caught off-guard by the question, the words nearly choked her. It was a peculiar talent Rose had; whenever you had her backed up against the wall, she had a way of turning that conversation back onto you. But as unexpected and sometimes troublesome as it was, it always achieved its ultimate goal, and that was to make you think. And Hermione was certainly no different.

“No,” she quietly admitted. “Being with Ron was all I ever wanted.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about Severus. I didn’t think twice about being with him because I wanted nothing more than to be with him. Even more so, I wanted to be with him because he loves me. He’s not just some slimly bastard who took a sick fancy for a young girl. He deeply cares for me, and he really does treat me well, Hermione. I wouldn’t have allowed any of it if I was not totally and completely sure of that.”

Hermione swallowed hard, now starting to feel a stinging in her eyes. “I’m sorry Rose, but I just can’t believe that.”

“Hermione, if you just –,” Rose pleaded, but Hermione shouted back, “No, I can’t! I can’t just step back and watch my best friend be used as a shag toy!”

At that, Hermione stormed over to the wall and collapsed into a little heap on the floor. Pulling her legs in close to her body, she struggled to hold back the hot, angry tears that were so quickly blurring her vision. She was mad at them all; Snape for taking advantage of her friend, Rose for so foolishly going along with it, and above all herself for not having the guts to report them straight to McGonagall. She thought she would not want anything more than to see Snape get what he deserved, but not if Rose would be going down right along with him. And then there was the issue of Snape’s unborn baby. Could she really put Snape out of a job just before he would be bringing a child into the world? Could she even think to ruin the reputation of a man who laid his life on the line to help Harry and the world?

Again, Hermione felt stuck, truly and honestly stuck.

She had brought up a hand to dry her eyes when she felt a pair of thin arms wrap around her shoulders. Much to her own surprise, Hermione leaned into Rose’s embrace, despite the contempt she was being assaulted by. “I’m so sorry, Hermione,” said the very forlorn Rose. “I never wished for you to get involved in any of this.”

“I don’t know what to do, Rose,” said Hermione, her tight vocal cords forcing her into a whisper. “I want to say something to someone, but I’ll ruin your life if I do. I don’t want to see you get thrown out of Hogwarts.”

Rose let out a soft sigh as she bent down and settled on her knees beside Hermione. “Why is it so difficult for you? I’m not one of your oldest friends. I’m not Harry, or Ron, or Ginny.”

“It would still leave a huge hole.” A desperate tear dripped down Hermione’s cheek, which she quickly wiped away. “I love you, Rose. You’re the girl-friend I always wanted but never had. Ginny and Harry are like my siblings, but what I have with you is so different, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“Then you must accept what has happened,” said Rose. “No matter how lowly you think of him, no matter how lowly you think of _me_ , I am still seeing Severus. All we have to do is to keep our relationship secret until after June, and then we’ll be in the clear. Then we’ll be free to live our lives together with Severus’s new baby. If you really do care about me, you would help us make that happen. But that’s your choice.”

It was a very long, silent moment before Hermione let go of a sort, but heavy breath, and her distraught brown eyes met Rose’s blue. “For you…” she whispered. “I’ll do it…for you.”

Hermione thought that Rose would be greatly relieved to hear that. But instead of wilting back with a great sigh, she stayed in that still, troubled position at the Head Girl’s side. It wasn’t until Hermione turned to look at her that she saw the tears forming in Rose’s eyes; tears of guilt, tears of indignity. This of course only made Hermione feel a hundred times worse than she already did, and she folded in over herself to weep into her knees. Rose apparently decided that words were no longer effective, and she pulled Hermione into another tight hug. It would be another twenty minutes before Rose would make her untimely entrance to Divinations.

And Hermione would never show up at all to Arithmancy.

**~HP~**

Hermione and Rose ended up sitting far apart from each other at dinner, which didn’t come as much of a surprise to the still disheartened Hermione. It seemed that Rose was in no mood to answer any more of her questions about Snape or the relationship between them, and therefore she decided to not make herself available to them. Rose spent the remainder of the afternoon in the library, writing long overdue letters to her old friends Jonny and Natasha, and when everyone congregated in the Great hall that evening, Rose made herself comfortable among Lavender, Parvati, and their respective other halves, leaving Hermione to sit quietly with Ron and Harry further down the table.

The boys were in the middle of a muted, very bitter discussion about the amount of homework they had been saddled with that day, but Hermione didn’t have much mind to listen. Her head was still reeling from that afternoon’s events, and the fact that she now had a direct involvement in them. Hermione still didn’t know what compelled her to agree to keep Rose’s relationship a secret. Perhaps it was guilt brought on by Snape’s delicate condition. Or maybe it was Hermione not wanting to affect his legacy as a Wizarding war hero. But there was one thing she was certain of. She did not want to see Rose lose her standing with the Hogwarts population and the Wizarding world. It killed Hermione to see her so sickeningly happy, knowing that it was because of Snape’s imprudent actions. But Rose didn’t have a great deal in her life to be happy about. She had lost almost everything in that war; her friends had all moved on from Hogwarts and she no longer had any hope of a lasting relationship with her incarcerated father. But above all, Rose thought that losing her beloved Dante had ended her chances of finding the lasting love that Hermione and Ron felt for each other. It wasn’t that long ago that Hermione was listening to Rose say that there was no other man for her. What else could be said now that she had found one? It was wrong, it was misguided, and it was illegal. But it made her happy, and Hermione couldn’t destroy that so willingly.

Hermione was almost through with her meal when she noticed Rose get up from her seat and start to leave the table. A quick glance up to the head table showed that Snape had disappeared from view, and instantly, Hermione knew what her cunning little roommate was up to. She allowed Rose to walk by them without so much as a glance, but once she disappeared through the massive doors, Hermione rose to her feet. She gave the boys a brief excuse, saying that she would see them in the common room, before also turning to leave. She promptly started off down the steps, not taking her eyes off the descending spot of red hair below her.

It was a tedious undertaking, following Rose through the very dark dungeons. Hermione walked on the tips of her toes, and she tried to keep most of her weight off her feet to prevent unneeded sound, which was difficult given the dungeons’ habit of creating echoes from nothing. She also had to keep an eye out for quick hiding spots should Rose turn around, or a Slytherin appear from around the corner. Hermione didn’t even know why she was doing this, trailing behind her friend like an unseen shadow. She didn’t have any intention of barging in on her with Snape to confront them together, but perhaps she just wanted to see what Rose’s reaction would be in light of what had happened between them. Hermione knew that there wasn’t a good chance of Rose coming to her better senses, but there was always the hope.

Hermione tucked herself into a nook in the wall as Rose approached the door to the Potions classroom, which was wise because Rose turned around to check out her surroundings before she pushed the door open and went inside. The door slowly swung closed behind her, and once she heard the lock click, Hermione crept out into the open. She moved toward the blocked entryway, pressing herself close to the ancient stone beside the old wood door. It was then that she heard the sound of Snape’s voice, speaking in a strangely gentle tone.

“Rosie, at last,” he said. There was a stretch of silence that Hermione could only guess was punctuated by a kiss. The eavesdropping witch felt a shudder run down her spine as she continued to listen. “I’ve been waiting for you all this long day. Just wait until I get you back in my…Rose, what’s wrong?”

“Hermione knows.”

At the very mention of her name, Hermione felt the overwhelming sense that she was not welcome there, and she turned to run back up to the ground floor. She almost couldn’t believe what she had just done, invading Rose’s private life after chastising her for the very choices she made. Not only that, but the soft tone of Rose’s words told Hermione just how badly she had hurt her friend. And it was then that Hermione fully realized how in a few short hours, her relationship with Rose had drastically changed.


	61. Conflict and Compromise

To say that Rose and Hermione’s friendship had been strained would be kind. While they still spoke to each other on a regular basis, and while they could still bear each other enough to share their dormitory, there wasn’t the same warmth and compassion between them. It was like there was always this cloud hanging over their heads, and it had everything to do with Hermione’s reluctance to fully accept Rose’s romance with Severus. She acknowledged it, yes, but she never spoke it like it was anything genuine. The Head Girl made no secret to Rose just what her feelings were, and how she did not approve, no matter what was said.

Quite obviously, Rose was more than dismayed. It killed her to see Hermione try so hard to remain friendly and caring, only to be stopped by Severus’s looming presence. It hurt even more to remember how distraught Hermione was that afternoon in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, how resentful she had been in the following days. Rose remembered how she felt when Lupin saw her in Severus’s bedchamber. The werewolf made her feel like a little child, the way he scolded her and her older lover. But when push came to shove, what he thought of her was relatively minor. To have Hermione chastising her in that intensely emotional manner, it dressed her down to the point where Rose felt like there was nothing left. Never had she done something to make a friend of hers so upset and angry.

That however did not stop her from trying to make her case to Hermione. Rose knew that Hermione was not as clean-cut as she tried to portray herself, having kept and taken part in some dirty little secrets during her tenure at Hogwarts. So why was this so different? The reason that she was so aggrieved, Rose believed, was not really due to the illegality of the relationship, but rather Hermione’s perceptions of Severus. She respected the wizard for his actions during the war, and she admired his undying devotion and bravery in the face of death. But when you took all of that away, even though Hermione almost desperately tried to ignore it, all she saw in Severus was a bitter, nasty man with a biased disposition. And after almost half a year, she had virtually given up the hope for any change.

“I don’t understand it, Rose,” Hermione said, staring up at the canopy of her bed as she lay on her back. Across the room, Rose was trying to read her Divinations book at the base of her own bed, her back pressed up against the side of her trunk. “I just don’t understand why you would actually go for a man like Snape.”

Rose glanced over the top of her book with a rather condescending eye before looking back down at her page. “You weren’t that curious when you got me to admit I had a crush on him.”

“I was being polite then,” replied Hermione. “And besides, it was just a crush back then. I honestly thought you would eventually come to your senses and move on. I never thought that you would actually get involved with the guy!”

“Indeed,” said Rose, rolling her eyes. “Hermione, I can’t explain my feelings for Severus any better than you can for Ron. The point is that I love him, and that’s all that matters.”

“But why do you love him?” asked Hermione. She sat herself up on her bed, propping herself up with her arms. “Remember that this is a man who once called you an ungrateful brat. This is the same man who has sought to make our lives a living hell so long as we are in his grasp. Rose, even you have to realize this. He’s a mean, nasty person.”

“That just shows you how well you know him, Hermione,” Rose calmly stated. She closed her book and set it down on the floor beside her. She then pulled her knees in close to her body and huddled in that upright fetal position. “I know you’re not likely to believe me, but I’m telling you, Severus is really not like that. You see a mean, nasty wizard, but that’s only when he’s in front of everyone. By now, it’s what people expect of him. When it’s just he and I, he’s actually a very gentle person. It’s not in his nature to be so cruel without due cause. What you all see is the result of his unhappy past – you remember that, don’t you?” She allowed Hermione a brief chance to nod before continuing.

“Listen Hermione, you out of anyone should understand why Severus is so bitter towards the world. He’s been abused and neglected, beaten and battered, chastised and ridiculed. And to top it off, he very nearly lost everything nine months ago. But underneath all of that, he’s still a generous, caring man. When I’m with him, it’s almost like he’s a different person, but he’s completely genuine. I said it enough last term. When you treat him right, he’s actually very pleasant.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m sorry Rose, but I just don’t believe that. I can’t see Snape being anything even remotely close to pleasant. And even so, how do you know that it’s not because of his pregnancy? The hormones could be doing weird things to his mind.”

“Severus has said himself that he can’t blame everything on hormones,” said Rose. “He might be a broken man, but he’s not this empty shell, devoid of emotion. And just to mention, I’ve seen just what those hormones can do. I know the difference between a mood-swing and an honest feeling.”

“I still refuse to believe it until I see it for myself.”

Rose paused, staring down at the floorboards. But after a quiet moment, her flaxen eyebrows arched up, and her blue eyes shifted to Hermione. “Very well…if that’s how you feel, then that’s how it’ll be.”

“Rose, what are you talking about?” asked Hermione.

“You want to see it for yourself, then fine.” Rose looked at the clock beside her bed, and she inelegantly staggered to her feet. She reached out her hand to Hermione. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Hermione inquired tensely, carefully rising from her bed.

“You’re coming with me down to the dungeons, and we’re going to have a little chat with Severus.”

Hermione nearly fell back onto the mattress in her attempts to get out of Rose’s reach. “Are you mad?!” she yelped. “Snape will tear my head off after the things I said to you on Valentine’s Day! And besides, he hates me!”

“Ah, but you’re forgetting one thing,” said Rose. “You’re my best friend. True, Severus might not like the lot of you, but he is respectful of the fact that I do. He doesn’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with, and he’s certainly not trying to keep me from any of you.”

“But –,”

“After what happened with Jonny and Natasha, Severus recognizes my desire for friendship, and he won’t stand in the way of that. Trust me, Hermione. You’ll be fine with him.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Hermione shrugged as the two of them left the dormitory and started the long walk down to the castle’s lower levels. Rose couldn’t help but titter at her friend’s apprehension. “For God’s sake, Hermione, he’s not going to sacrifice you to the gods and harvest your blood. No need to act like he is. And he doesn’t _hate_ you. Compared to Harry and Ron, with you it’s just a strong dislike.”

**~HP~**

Severus’s back ached as he tried to get comfortable. For some reason, there were some days that were so long and so busy that not even those cushions could satisfy him properly. With his feet propped up and a pillow stuffed underneath him, Severus was fighting off the urge to sleep as he waited for Rose. If her day was half as taxing as his was, then surely she wouldn’t mind taking an early night, maybe with a quick shag just to be sure of a good night’s rest.

He was about to haul himself up and retreat to bed when there was a light knock on his door. Severus looked at the clock; it was the right time, but Rose never knocked. That was odd, very odd indeed. But needless to say, Severus got to his feet, pressing a hand to support his strained back, and padded over to the door, cracking it open just enough to peer out into the hall. Rose stood very still in the archway, her fingers laced together at her waist, looking much more like a nervous First year than a mature young woman come to his bed.

“Rose, you know perfectly well that this door is always open for you,” he said to her, but that serious face didn’t change. Opening the door wider, Severus stepped out to touch Rose’s arm. But it was in the light from within that he looked past Rose’s head and saw Hermione Granger trembling in the shadows.

“What is she doing here?” Severus growled, keeping a hand on his swollen middle and staring the frazzled witch back further into the stone wall.

“She’s just here to talk, Severus,” said Rose, stretching her hand out to the pregnant wizard.

“Oh really,” came the response. “From I hear, she has already said quite enough. And if she expects that I would subject myself to that rubbish, she is sadly mistaken.”

“I don’t mean any harm, Professor,” Hermione mumbled, but Severus fired right back with, “A likely story, Granger. You have no business here, and no right to intrude upon ours.”

“Severus, I brought her here,” Rose spoke up. She reached out and took her lover’s hand in hers. “Look, we’ve all been hostile towards each other for days, and frankly, I’m tired of it. Hermione’s my friend, and I want to set things right, even if it kills me. Just let her sit and talk for a while, that’s all I ask.”

Severus’s first instinct was obviously to drive the meddling little Granger brat away. She had already invaded their private lives enough as it was, already done her damage. But at the same time, this was still one of Rose’s friends he was talking about. In the end, all Severus had to do was to take one look at Rose’s solemn eyes, and together with his back pain and tiredness, he felt much of his will power drain.

“Very well…come inside.” Severus stepped aside and allowed Rose to enter. Hermione was hesitant at first, but when Rose turned and waved a beckoning hand to her, she carefully tiptoed inside.

Once the door was bolted behind them, Severus settled back down on his precious sofa, and Rose tucked herself in right next to him. Pulling her legs in underneath her body, she stretched her arm around Severus’s neck and shoulders, snuggling closer into his side. Hermione meanwhile was a little daunted by the sight, and she sat uneasily in Severus’s armchair, sitting on the edge of the cushions, wringing her fingers in her lap.

No one said a word for at least five full minutes.

“So…” Hermione finally got up the courage to say, but any other words died on her tongue.

“Come on, Granger,” said Severus, much more lax now that he was under the influence of Rose’s touch. “You came here to talk, so talk.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” mumbled Hermione. “So…I mean, this is it? This is what you two do?”

“It starts out this way usually, yes,” said Rose. “We’re not taking you into the bedroom though.”

“No need to worry.” The couple noticed how Hermione shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the open bedroom door in question. Instead, she turned her attention to Severus’s rounded belly. She had never seen his pregnant body so clearly before, and this she had to admit was fascinating to her. Of course, the fact that Rose had already gotten busy at affectionately rubbing that bump reminded her of their uncomfortable circumstances, and she inched further up the seat.

“Hermione, you have to loosen up a bit,” said Rose. “You look like you’re about to have an aneurism or something.”

“Well, forgive me if I’m a little uneasy,” said Hermione as she slunk back a little bit. “I don’t know how you two are so relaxed in light of all this.”

Rose shook her head slightly. “You said it yourself that it’s better for the baby if there’s minimal stress, and I’m trying to follow that idea as well.”

“She likes to think of it as being a good influence,” said Severus, snaking his arm around Rose’s trim waist. “Of course, she is hardly a case example under duress, as I’m sure you know, Granger.”

“Oh shut it, Sev,” Rose teased, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Embarrass me in front of my friend, why don’t you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” said Severus, and Rose brought her face in closer for a kiss.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hermione suddenly spoke up, drawing attention back to her. “Listen, I know you brought me here to try and show me what a normal couple you are. I’m sorry, but I’m just not convinced.”

“We’re not even trying to convince you,” said Rose. “We know we’re not a normal couple. I mean come on, he’s pregnant and I’m half his age. Throw in our magical abilities, and we're as far away from normal as you could get. What I brought you here for was to give you the chance to see this side of us, to open your mind, with the hope that in time, you could be convinced.”

Hermione twiddled her thumbs, almost like she was mulling over what her response should be. But when she failed to come up with anything of significance, she felt her form deflate of courage and she sighed, “It still isn’t right.”

“We know that too,” Rose frowned. “But what can we say? It was simply unfortunate circumstances? Perhaps I was born twenty years too late?”

“Don’t put the blame on yourself, Rose,” Hermione tried to say, but Rose interrupted her with a raised hand.

“There are two halves to every couple, Mione,” she said. “You could look at this a million different ways, but Severus is no more to blame than I am.”

“She’s right,” said Severus. “It’s like when you and Weasley are caught snogging in a broom cupboard after hours, he is not the only one threatened with detention.”

Hermione’s eyes widened to tea saucer proportions as she stared at Rose. “You told him about that?”

“I didn’t have to, he heard it from McGonagall. Honestly Hermione, you know I wouldn’t snitch any of you out for anything.”

“Of course,” said Hermione, even as she shifted in her seat again. She crossed a leg over the other and looked at Severus, who was glancing down at the fair hand resting on his abdomen. “Does she talk about us much?”

“All the time,” said Severus, cocking a black eyebrow. “I’ll have you know that she is and always has been an avid member of your and Potter’s fan club. And as hard as I try, I cannot convince her otherwise. You have a loyal friend in Rose.”

“Of that, I’m sure.” Hermione finally started to relax more into her chair, and she rested her chin in her hand. “Forgive my intrusiveness, but I have to ask. Do you two only come down here to have sex?”

“Of course not,” Severus sneered. “I see you are under the impression that my relationship with Rose is determined by my sexual desire for her. Well, I don’t know what those immature male housemates of yours have taught you, Granger, but that is not the case. Frankly, most of my time with her is spent simply enjoying her company.”

“Yeah,” Rose agreed with a nod. “You know that there’s more to dating than sex.”

“You call this dating?” Hermione asked with a giggle, in spite of the discomfort in the room. Rose laughed and said, “In a clandestine sort of way, yes.”

“Leave it to this one to believe that there are set rules for courting,” said Severus, gesturing to Hermione with a potion-stained thumb. Rose laughed some more as Hermione’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. She was about to say something in her defense when Severus suddenly flinched, a hand flying to his stomach. “Oh,” he half-gasped.

“What oh?” asked Rose. Severus didn’t say anything to her, but he did take her hand and guided it to a different spot on his belly. Hermione looked on as Rose’s face melted into a smile as she gently rubbed, the Potions master appearing to be soothed by the motion. Rose tilted her head up to look her professor in the eye, and then she leaned in and whispered something in his ear. He looked at her strangely for a moment or two, but after a little bit of thought, Severus rolled his eyes and nodded his head. Rose then shifted her gaze to Hermione.

“Hermione, come here,” she said, stretching her hand to her friend.

The Head Girl glanced about the room, confused by the gesture. “What?”

“I’m serious, come here.” Though she felt like Rose was coaxing her into a dragon’s den, Hermione slowly rose up from her chair and transferred to the sofa. She then scooted down the cushions until she was just under a foot from Severus’s side. Rose then reached out for Hermione’s trembling hand. “You have to feel this.”

She placed Hermione’s hand on Severus’s belly, on the same spot where her hand had rested. To be sure that it wasn’t going anywhere, Rose gently pinned it there with the tips of her fingers. Hermione swallowed hard, overcome by the awkwardness of this situation, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the pregnant wizard. Of course, that wasn’t helping much because she could still feel Severus’s eyes boring into her skull. In that moment, Hermione wished she could sink into the floor and get it over with.

But then suddenly out of nowhere, something thumped her from the inside. Jolted, Hermione looked down at her hand, then blinked a few times in disbelief. It came again, and Hermione realized it was a tiny foot pressing up against her. She let out a gasp, and then looked up at Rose, who was smiling widely at her.

“Isn’t that amazing?” she asked, just barely containing herself. Seeing that she would not be penalized, nor would she hexed into oblivion by a certain Potions master, Hermione let out a gasping giggle.

“That’s…that’s the baby!” she yipped.

“How about that,” Severus drawled, suddenly reminding the girls of his conscious presence. “Know-it-all Granger does it again!”

Hermione wisely decided to ignore Severus’s sneering comment. Instead, she focused on the movements of the fetus inside him. Feeling courageous again, she patted back to the baby, laughing when she got a response. The room was soon filled with the quiet laughter of the two girls, while Severus sat back and allowed it.

He had to marvel at the bond that these girls had, that they could take this awkward situation and find a way to break the tension between them.

After a while, Hermione pulled away and relaxed into her corner of the sofa. Rose also got to her feet, citing that she needed to use the loo. She politely excused herself from the room, leaving Hermione alone in the sitting room with Severus. This was the very moment that Hermione had been dreading all that night.

She briefly considered making a run for it while she had the chance. But she realized that it would be counter-productive as there was still some unfinished business between them. Not to mention that Rose wouldn’t appreciate that kind of cowardice. Hermione puffed up her chest, and she straightened her back as she turned toward Severus.

“I’m sorry about all of this, sir,” she said with confidence. “I know the last few days have been stressful for me, and I hate to imagine the tension I caused for someone in your delicate condition.”

“Granger, your chance to apologize passed a long time ago,” said Severus, running his hand down his burgeoning middle. “Rose has told me quite a bit about just how you handled yourself since Valentine’s Day. You’ve been crying to the heavens about how what she and I are doing is wrong, how we are at fault in this. Not once have you mentioned that even though you are her friend, you had no right to meddle in Rose’s private affairs that day.”

“At least I confronted Rose about her private affairs at first opportunity,” Hermione pointed out. “I could have run straight to Professor McGonagall after I saw you reading that note. I didn’t only because I cared about what would happen to Rose.”

“You realized that she’s risking just as much as I am,” Severus mused before his words took a turn for the sarcastic. “So you do care. I don’t know why I ever doubted Rose’s judgment.”

“I’m sorry Professor, but your cynicism will not work on me tonight.” Hermione began to tap her leg with the tip of her finger. “What is she to you?”

Severus glanced at her briefly out of the corner of his dark eye before turning to stare off into space. “She’s a wonderful thing that has been a long time coming. Understand Granger, never have I thought myself the type of man that would pursue a much younger woman. But Rose is not just any ordinary woman.”

“You thought she was special?”

“To put it bluntly, yes,” said Severus, giving a curt nod. “Listen, I have been in my position for nearly two decades, and I have never met someone quite like Rose. You don’t find many women who are so direct, and yet still so considerate. And you know how she has more compassion in her heart than she knows what to do with. Needless to say, given the circumstances that have surrounded me in the last few years, that was what I needed and wanted in a girl. What happened between us was unexpected, but to us, it was natural.”

_‘He’s totally calm about this…’_ Hermione just resisted the impulse to cringe as she listened to Severus speak. It was just bizarre to see him so subdued in the face of their tense circumstances, to hear him talk about Rose as casually as any other girlfriend of his. But then again, Hermione realized, the old bastard probably didn’t have very many past girlfriends to brag about. If he was as happy with his romantic life as Rose was, he had to be bursting at the seams with the desire to talk about this with someone, even if it was one of his most despised students. Love did make you do stupid things, after all.

Speaking of which…

“Do you love her?” asked Hermione, out of the blue. Severus jerked his head at her, as though stunned. “I had to ask, sir.” There was a long, heavy silence between them before Severus breathed in deeply and let out a sigh.

“If it is crucial for you to know…yes, I do. To be honest, I never thought I could love someone as much as I love Rose. She’s my world, the light that kept me moving in those dark days of last term. But now I ask you, Granger. Why does that matter to you?”

“Rose is my best friend,” Hermione muttered quietly. “I want her to have a happy life, one that she rightfully deserves. I don’t want to see her get hurt again, not after everything she’s been through. After losing her first love, I didn’t want to see her go pinning her affections on the first one interested.”

“You don’t think I know how much Rose loved Macleod?” asked Severus. “She once wept over him in my classroom. Believe me, I didn’t want Rose to be with me simply as an adverse reaction to his death. I wanted her to be with me because she wanted _me_. When I confessed my feelings for her, I made it clear to Rose that she had the choice. I haven’t done anything without her explicit permission. Trust me when I say this, Granger. I wouldn’t hurt her if my life depended on it.”

Hermione sat still and stared at the Potions master, taking in everything he had to say. She still wasn’t so sure, but the more she thought about it, the more the inevitables began to come through. Snape was a wizard with varying degrees of credibility, but he was an honest man when need be. If he wasn’t, he would not have said half the things he said to Hermione that night. He was an unpleasant man a great deal of the time, but Hermione hadn’t seen that much of it there. Perhaps Rose was on to something after all, Hermione thought to herself, and she wondered if this was her first time actually seeing the real Severus Snape as opposed to the greasy git they all knew and hated.

But just when she thought she was warming up to the idea, Hermione’s mind wandered back to the days and weeks following the end of the war, and one more unsettling thought found its way to the forefront of her thoughts. “What about Harry’s mother?” she asked, briefly forgetting her place. “How many years you held those feelings close, and you gave it up for one girl?”

Hermione noticed Severus’s fingers twitch, and she was about ready to duck when the pregnant wizard cleared his throat. “If Rose can move on, then so can I,” he told her. “I found that it was better for me to pursue other things than continue to hold onto the impossible. And mind you, that wasn’t easy. Rose was the first person I fell for since Lily Evans Potter, and it took quite a lot of time to sort myself out before I realized what I really wanted.”

“It was still hard, I imagine,” said Hermione.

“You have no idea,” Severus shook his head. “But in the end, I am glad that I did it because now I feel more content with the state of my life than I have in a great many years.”

“Even if you’ve got a baby in your belly and you’re secretly shagging a barely legal student every Friday night.”

“Watch yourself, Granger,” warned Severus, pointing at the girl in question. “Just because you are friends with Rose does not mean you are immune to detentions for questionable behavior. Don’t think I don’t know about your little rendezvous’ with Weasley in the empty classroom on the fifth floor.”

Hermione gulped, feeling the sweat forming on her forehead. “Are you sure Rose didn’t tell you that?”

“Please, I didn’t even know that until recently,” Rose said as she strolled back into the room and sat down beside Severus. “Really Hermione, you underestimate how much Severus knows about what goes on in this castle. When he smells mischief in the air, he has ways of sniffing it out. And again, even if I had known, you and Ron know I wouldn’t have said a word. I may talk and gossip, but I’m no squealer.” Strangely touched, Hermione let out a soft giggle.

From there, the conversation turned to things more casual, mostly about what was being written in that week’s _Prophet,_ and a new interesting theory presented in the latest edition of _The Practical Potioneer._ The two witches and the wizard debated among themselves, over glasses of chilled milk that Rose insisted on pouring. Hermione even dared to ask some questions about the baby that she had been dying to know, like if Severus knew what he was having, or if he had any names picked out yet. Most of them were met with a sneer, which was usually followed by some high, muffled laughter.

But in amongst their discussions, there was almost no mention of Rose and Severus’s relationship. It still hung over Hermione’s head like an annoying cloud, but she found no real reason to bring it up again, simply because it no longer felt like it was what she knew it to be. This was not the Severus Snape that she knew, but what Rose knew. There were no walls built up to block out the world. Sitting there talking to Severus, calm and collected, it felt like what Hermione could only assume was talking to any other guy Rose happened to date. As outlandish and immoral as it was, there was a sense of normalcy in that little dungeon sitting room.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

**~HP~**

Rose paced nervously in front of the door to Severus’s office, her fingers busy attempting to tie themselves into an undoable knot. Her hair was already tied back into a high bun on the crown of her head, and her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows. And she felt a coolness on her temples that suggested the beginnings of perspiration. It hadn’t occurred to Rose how nervous she was until she stepped into the Potions classroom. But then again, the Wolfsbane Potion was not just any brewing session for her. Inside, she could hear Severus shuffling about, moving jars and searching for packages, gathering the ingredients necessary for the advanced concoction.

“I don’t see why you have to keep some stuff completely hidden away,” she said as she watched Severus get down on his knees and use his wand to levitate a slab of solid granite from the floor. “Your private stores are pretty safe when you’ve got both doors locked and charmed.”

“Clearly, Potter and Granger have left some things out in their discussions with you over the years,” said Severus. Unsteadily leaning over his pregnant belly, he started to reach down into the gaping hole in the floor. Rose saw this and instantly moved to step inside the office.

“Severus, please, allow me –,”

“Let me handle it, Rose,” Severus snapped, jerking his head up to her. Rose flinched slightly before backing off; Severus had been in a rather hagridden state of mind that day, probably due to the aches he felt from the unnatural crunch on his lower spine, and after a little episode involving him and a rowdy bunch of Fourth year Gryffindors, Rose didn’t want to do anything else to exacerbate that. Seeing that she would remain passive, Severus went back to his work. “The reason I keep some ingredients hidden is because of the nature of their use. Not only are they extremely expensive, but they also tend to be quite dangerous even in their raw forms. I only take these out for the highly advanced, level five potions that are not taught to students.”

Rose nodded her understanding, and Severus brought up a filthy jar of a silvery-white substance. Once he slowly – though not gracefully – got to his feet, he pointed to the other jars and packages that had accumulated on his desk, and he ordered Rose to take as much as she could carry. Together, they carried the different components out to the table where the cauldron was waiting for them.

“Now Rose,” Severus began. “I don’t need to tell you that even though I have confidence in you, this is a very complex potion, and it requires your full attention. Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” answered Rose, although she didn’t sound the slightest bit convincing. Severus let out a reluctant sigh, and then took out his wand again. A quick swish produced a small bubble that covered Severus’s nose and mouth, a slight modification to the Bubble-head Charm. Though he was required to teach this meticulous potion to Rose, he was past the point in his pregnancy when inhaling the fumes would be dangerous for his unborn baby. Once he was breathing the clear, odorless air, he turned back to his nervous girlfriend, and they began working.

At first, it seemed simple enough. Four whole, untouched sprigs of wolfsbane went into the cauldron, and were set to simmer for twenty minutes. After that, three bunches of lavender were ground up heartily in Rose’s mortar. It seemed like it was just like any other potion to Rose, even if it was a far-fetched thought. But just when she thought that she had been stressing about nothing, it took a turn.

She was slicing vertically down a leaf of sage when she felt Severus leaning in over her, looking down on her little green slices. “Don’t take this too personally, love, but those slivers need to be thinner.”

“How thin?” asked Rose, glancing up at him like she was in the middle of class.

“About half that width,” replied Severus. “The thicker they are, they longer they take to break down. And if they don’t break down properly, the drinker’s memory won’t be as refined. We don’t want Lupin slipping in and out of his sound mind.”

Rose looked down at her already toothpick-sized cuttings. She swallowed hard, but she nodded her understanding, and she bent over to get a much closer look at what she was doing. She went back over the slivers she had already cut, and once she had Severus’s approval, she continued on with the rest of the leaf. She was about to start on another when Severus stopped her and commanded her to slowly place a whole ginger root into the cauldron. The entire time, he kept reminding her of how she had to mindful of every sight, sound, and smell in that dungeon as she worked. They then left it to simmer for thirty minutes, time Rose used to slice the four remaining sage leaves she had set out.

“Is there any particular reason you are working so slowly?” asked Severus, attracting Rose’s attention. The Gryffindor looked at him like he had accused her of cheating on him.

“Slowly?” she inquired with an arch in her brow. “You told me they had to be thin, so I’m trying to be careful with my cutting. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There wouldn’t be if you weren’t working on such a rigid timeline,” Severus explained. And he was quite right, Rose realized. Even as she struggled to obey her slicing orders, she had to keep her eye on the cauldron. That was because as soon as the thirty minutes was up, she had to attend to the potion immediately.

“Well, it’s not easy to do this by myself,” asserted Rose. “What do you do, prepare your ingredients ahead of time?”

Severus sighed, pressing a hand to his burdened lower back. “I simply know how to keep my priorities in check while I’m working.”

“And I don’t?” Rose snapped. The sharp movement made a strand of red hair come loose and swing in front of her face. Seeing the error in his statement, Severus quickly tried to correct himself. “No, I don’t mean that at all. I’m just trying to say that the process comes easier after brewing it a number of times. You haven’t quite got that yet for this potion.” Rose took in Severus’s words, and she found them satisfactory enough to continue working. She turned back to the knife and leaf pieces in her hand.

There was a pile of vertical slices on the table when the last minute ticked by. Rose instantly set it aside and listened to Severus’s careful orders to add five tiny scoops of the ground up lavender plants. It was tedious however; each scoop had to measure out to exactly thirty milligrams, and Rose took great pains to make sure that her measurements were as precise as possible. She could feel Severus watching her every move, aggravating her nerves, and she just resisted the urge to tell him to back off her. It got no better when she had to add the generous amount of salamander’s blood, nor when she ran sprigs of rosemary through her hands to harvest those leaves.

“For Prospero’s sake, Rose, you don’t need to attack it like a hatchet!”

Rose glared at Severus’s thin, angular finger as it impatiently tapped on the surface of the table. The heel of her hand pressed a little harder into the broad side of the knife she was using to dice the sage and rosemary together. “You wanted me to work quicker, didn’t you?” she ground out, trying to keep control of her tone.

“I did, but I also want you to maintain a level of control. You can’t get too ahead of yourself, or you will botch the potion. You know better than that, Rose.”

“I’m just trying to do what I’m told.”

The clearly irritated Potions master forced out a breath. “I understand, but you know better than this. Actually here, let me…” Severus took the knife right out of Rose’s grasp, and he went straight to work on properly dicing the leaves. Rose’s hands went up in surrender, but her face had offence carved into every line in her forehead. She was supposed to be learning, wasn’t she? Well to her, just as it was when Severus was teaching a class, learning meant doing it yourself without having someone else take control.

“Severus, I don’t mean to be cross with you, but can I have my knife back? I can’t get the hang of this unless you let me work.” A cold black eye glared at Rose, and suddenly, she felt like she was a no-good little First year again. Severus seemed to have some biting remark sitting on the tip of his tongue, but after a glance down at his hands, he set down the knife and stepped aside.

“Go over the pile a few more times, and then add three handfuls to the cauldron,” he said, his voice laced with exhaustion as he eased down onto one of the student stools. “Once you’ve done that, let it sit for forty minutes.”

“Severus, are you feeling alright?” asked Rose as she carefully scooped out the leaves and peppered them over the surface of the bubbling cauldron. “You’re awfully tense.”

“Any other day, this would have been a lot easier for me to do,” said Severus. “But true to form, nothing is easy when you’re six months pregnant.”

Rose could see how tired and uncomfortable Severus was, but her sympathy was marred by the tension between them. It seemed to her that as much as Severus wanted her to produce a well-made potion, what he really wanted was to get all this over and done with. And Severus could not have been able to agree more. With his increasingly heavy belly, his aching back, and his fatigue-weakened mind, he was quickly running out of patience with this temperamental potion and Rose’s difficult attitude. In all the time he spent with her, he had forgotten how short her fuse could be when under pressure, how brutally Gryffindorish she was deep down. But now really wasn’t the time for Rose to get all stubborn and defensive, not when another man’s health was in her hands.

Why did it have to be in the most difficult situations that their personalities collided?

The couple didn’t talk much while they let the potion steep over a low flame. Given the stress that was floating around the room like a thick fog, there was definitely not a lot of loving to be had. They both knew they were wound too tightly, and the last thing either of them wanted was to start a conflict. So instead, Severus and Rose kept to their own business, as well as their own books, on opposite sides of the room. But every time Rose stood up to check on the potion’s progress, she could feel Severus’s hard, coal-black eyes penetrating her form. It was like he was waiting for her to make a mistake, a chance to ridicule someone else’s wrongs just to give himself a lift. Rose kept her eyes on her work, although she did occasionally slip her older lover a quick spiteful glare. She wanted him to know that she did not need him riding her; she was edgy as it was without him being a total control-freak.

She tried to tune him out when she inserted her glass rod, mumbling to herself as she counted in one-thousands each time her hand went around. But just when she pulled the rod from the cloudy liquid, she heard Severus’s low, dreary voice a few feet away. “It’s not how I would have done it.”

That was it…

Rose slammed the rod down onto the table, just hard enough to produce a loud crash without breaking it, and she whirled around to face the pregnant wizard. “Why don’t you do it then?!” she yelled. “You obviously know what you’re doing, so why not save me the trouble?!” Severus responded instantly to her anger, his pale face flushing as his hands clenched up.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he growled back, forcing himself up. “You think I like just standing on the sidelines? You think I like letting you do this because I can’t?! Rose, if I hadn’t been explicitly banned from brewing Wolfsbane Potion, then I would brew it my bloody self!”

“Really?” asked Rose, her voice oozing cynicism. “Even with your bad back, cramped legs, and headaches? Please, you would have needed me sooner or later!”

“As if!” Severus stalked over to Rose and planted his feet firmly on the floor in front of her. “I should have known better, agreeing to let you do this! I was so blinded by our relationship, I couldn’t see that you were clearly not ready for the responsibility!”

“You knew how nervous I was!” shouted Rose, jabbing her finger at the Potions master. “You knew that, and yet you kept breathing down my neck this whole goddamn time!”

“That was only because if you botched up the potion, I did not want to be held accountable for your obstinacy.”

Rose might have smacked Severus across the face if she had not turned violently on her heel and turned her back to him. She stomped across the room, her nails digging into her palms enough to draw blood, and a vein in her temple throbbed. A breath escaped as a growl as she turned back to Severus. “You are so full of shit!” she snarled, grinding her teeth. “You are a control freak! You can’t let anyone else do anything without your specific instructions, because Lord knows that no one knows more than you do!”

“Shut up, Rose!”

“Oh, the big bad Potions master doesn’t like his power being challenged. Not all of us are simpering idiots without you watching our every move, you know!”

Severus growled out and stormed over to his desk. He grabbed a book off of the surface and violently shoved it into Rose’s arms as he stomped on by. “Here, there’s the damn book! You want to brew the potion yourself, then fucking do it! See how much I care!” He grabbed the door to his office and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Rose alone in the classroom.

The irate student stood plainly in the middle of the room for a moment or two, just to give herself a chance to calm down. Fury coursed through her veins, and all she wanted was to continue screaming at her bad-tempered boyfriend through that closed door. She hadn’t done anything wrong to be criticized like that! It wasn’t her damn fault that Severus was in such a bad mood that evening, so she didn’t deserve to have that taken out on her. And she definitely didn’t deserve to be treated like she was no better at brewing than Neville.

Blowing out a hot breath, Rose returned to her cauldron and forced the book open. She froze for a split second when she saw that the pages were covered with Severus’s cramped, delicate handwriting. But once she shook some sense back into herself, she went back to her work.

She thought that Severus leaving would do away with the anxiety that had been nagging at her all that day. But what she came to realize was that the fear of being watched had now been replaced with the fear of being on her own. Rose was a confident brewer once she knew what she was doing, but not until then. Now without Severus watching her every move, she was more afraid than ever of making a catastrophic mistake.

Rose tried as hard as she could to follow the book’s instructions. They were some of the most complicatedly described she had ever seen, and that was without Severus’s little notes all over the margins. Taking a cue from a well-known story she had heard from Harry, she read each and every one of them, and Rose was shocked to discover that much of it was what Severus had been trying to tell her. This really was a complicated potion that needed a lot of explaining. Feeling the tug of guilt in her stomach, Rose glanced at Severus’s office door, as though wishing for the Potions master to come back to her. But when he did not, she decided that Severus in writing was better than no Severus at all. The Half-blood Prince had saved Harry, he could save her too.

Ninety minutes later, Rose was very near to the potion’s completion. As she added five healthy sprigs of valerian root, she looked to the book again, and she reached for the jar of the silvery-white substance Severus had pulled from under the floor. It turned out to be a small supply of Antimony, an ingredient that Rose knew was not at all used often in potions. Actually, this was her first time to actually see it, let alone get her hands on it. The book instructed that she had to melt one single gram of it. Pulling out the hard rubber stopper, Rose used a pair of tweezers to fish out a small piece of the solid element, and she weighed it out meticulously until she had the proper amount. Once she had taken the little piece off the scales and placed it into a special container, Rose brought forth her wand and idly cast a heating charm on it to melt.

Nothing happened.

Rose’s brow wrinkled as she stared at the metallic white pebble, and she cast a stronger charm. Again, there was no visible change. Feeling the tension starting to build up again, Rose held her bare palm up to the element sample, letting it hover above it. It was hot to the touch, even from a distance. And yet it remained firmly solid. This didn’t make sense! What was she doing wrong? Letting her better senses get away from her, Rose picked up the sample with the tweezers and thrust it into the flame under her cauldron, holding it there. Even in direct contact with raw, blue fire, the stone did not even sear.

Now Rose was panicking. She frantically poured over the pages of the book, but neither the author nor Severus had provided any solution. Rose delved further into the book and still found nothing. Tears were beginning to sting her eyes when Rose stepped back from the table, looking between the cauldron, the Antimony, and Severus’s office door.

She dearly hoped that Severus wasn’t too angry with her.

Folding her arms over her chest, Rose stepped over to the door and stopped just in front of it. She thought about knocking for a second, but realized how pointless that really was. So instead, Rose carefully grabbed the handle and pushed the door open slowly. Severus was sitting behind his desk, his hand gently resting on his abdomen as he read the pages of the _Evening Prophet_. His deep, dark eyes travelled up to Rose before she had a chance to speak.

“Yes Rose?” he asked, his voice deflated after their row. If Rose didn’t feel guilty before, she certainly did after hearing that. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she swallowed the knot growing in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Severus cocked his head to the side, studied her face, and then said, “You need help, don’t you?”

A feeble nod was his answer.

“It was the Antimony, wasn’t it love?”

“Uh-huh,” mumbled Rose, again nodding her head. Just hearing Severus call her love made her want to crumble to her knees; Severus was not one to forgive easily, even for the most miniscule of conflicts. She had thought that her crossness had earned her a weekend or two away from Severus’s warm bed. The tears flowed more freely now. “I can’t melt it…I don’t know what else to do.”

Severus stared at Rose, all frazzled hair and tears. He gave a leisurely shake of his head, and he gripped the arms of his chair as he forced himself up to his feet. Then out came his wand, and he recast the bubble over his mouth and nose. “Come on, I’ll show you what to do. I had a feeling Flitwick hadn’t taught you that spell yet.” He stopped just beside his sniveling girlfriend, and he reached up to wipe the hot droplets from her freckle-dusted cheeks. “And pull yourself together, for god’s sake. There is no use in crying over spilt potion.”

**~HP~**

Rose tried her absolute best not to move a muscle as she knocked on Lupin’s door, for fear of spilling a drop from the smoking mug in her hand. She had finally managed to finish the potion with Severus’s help and approval. But there was no real way of telling if it was of good quality until the werewolf in question drank it. And Severus had decided that since it was her handiwork, Rose should be the one to deliver the finished product. He said it was because she had to get used to the monthly task, but Rose was convinced that it was really to punish her for the argument it had caused.

“It’s open!” she heard Lupin’s voice from inside, and Rose slowly turned the handle and walked into her professor’s office, taking the most careful steps she had ever taken in her life. She couldn’t help but wonder how in the world she had gotten all the way up there from the dungeons. Lupin looked up from behind his desk, and he pushed aside whatever work it was that he was doing at the time.

“Good evening, Rose,” he said to her, running his fingers through his gray-dusted hair.

“Hello sir,” muttered Rose. “I’ve got your potion.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been waiting for you to bring that,” Lupin sounded as though he was trying to be polite with her, more likely trying to ignore everything he knew about her and Severus’s relationship. It was true that they hadn’t talked a great deal recently, but both had made their own promises to be civil and considerate towards each other. And with these circumstances, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice.

Rose stepped forward and set the mug down onto the surface of Lupin’s desk. The Defense professor briefly watched the blue smoke floating up from the surface of the murky liquid. But after a while, he grasped the handle and brought the rim up to his lips. He clenched his eyes shut at the taste.

“Professor?” Rose squeaked, her body tensing up. Lupin took a few seconds to actually swallow the potion, but he then turned his head to Rose. “It tastes just as awful as it does when Severus makes it for me.”

“You mean it’s okay?”

“As far as I can tell, I don’t see any differences. We won’t know until the morning after the full moon, but I’m pretty confident that it will get the job done. Well done, Rose. I know how bloody difficult that potion is to make. I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

_‘Oh, you have no idea,’_ Rose thought to herself. She ended up shaking herself off and said to Lupin, “Anything I can do to help.”

Lupin looked Rose in the face, and evidently he saw something in her eyes because he shook his head with a smirk. “Severus put you through the ringer tonight, didn’t he?”

“A little bit,” admitted Rose in a small voice. There was no real need to mention how she and Severus ended up having their first lovers’ quarrel over the stupid concoction. “I assure you, the potion scared me more than he did.”

“Indeed,” said Lupin, offering up a polite little chuckle. Of course he guessed that already, Rose realized. “In any case, thank you Rose. I really do appreciate the effort.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Rose, and she turned to make a quick exit. She had quite a bit more apologizing to do down in the dungeons.

“Rose,” Lupin suddenly spoke up, pausing the Gryffindor’s steps just short of the door. She turned slowly, her hand still on the handle. “Yes sir?”

“I just wanted to apologize for my recent behavior. I realize I put you in an unfair position by treating you so coldly, and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I was blaming you for what happened.”

Rose gripped the door, feeling a new guilt setting in. She knew well – or at least Severus knew well – that Lupin did blame her for most of what happened between the three of them. She understood now that it had really been an adverse reaction, motivated by his friendship with Severus. But even with that, Rose had thought she had lost her good standing with the werewolf forever. She didn’t think she would ever get an acknowledgment from him, let alone this!

“I appreciate that, Professor, but I don’t want you saying things that you don’t mean.”

“I do mean it,” Lupin reassured her, leaning on the top of his desk. “Look Rose, for the sake of all us – you, me, Severus, and from what I now understand, Hermione Granger – I want to just start over. I might not agree with what you do, but I don’t think you are a bad person. Obviously you’re not if you went to the trouble of making this potion for me. I just hope that we might be able to put the conflict behind us, and work more with each other to take the stress off of Severus’s shoulders.”

“That depends,” said Rose. “I love Severus too much to deny him a friendship that he so sorely needs. But if you really want that, you have to respect me. I love that man with all my heart, and I wouldn’t do a thing to hurt him. And I want to be treated as such.”

Lupin debated that for a little while, scratching his bristly chin with his thumb. “I never disliked you before any of this happened,” he said. “And if this potion gets me through tomorrow night, you have my regard for life. I just want to look out for Severus’s best interests.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Rose mused aloud, and Lupin nodded. “I do. If I didn’t, I doubt I would care as much as I do about this affair of yours. Believe me when I say it, Rose. I know he’s happy with you, and I don’t wish to come between you two. But at the same time, I don’t want you to feel like you’re the only one at fault. It’ll take a lot of work on both our parts, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

Rose sighed deeply as she glanced into the distance with a smirk. Remus Lupin truly was as good a man as he was reputed. She had known that all along, but now it was cemented in her heart. And if it was for her sweet Severus, then she was more than willing to put in the effort. She left Lupin with an affirmative nod, and a positive smile.

As soon as she was out in the hall, Rose hurried along through the corridors. Severus had advised her to come back once she had delivered the potion, but even if he hadn’t, the dungeons was the first and only place Rose would have gone. Now that this nasty business was over and done with, she wanted Severus all to herself without any distractions or worries. She wanted to show Severus how foolish their row had been.

Swiftly dodging people and portraits alike, Rose made it back to Severus’s quarters in what she haphazardly thought to be record time, and she quietly pushed the door open and entered. She had expected that Severus had already gone to bed, but much to her surprise, the pregnant wizard was waiting for her on the sofa. The room was warm, and a light from the bedchamber told Rose that a fire was already burning in the hearth. Severus looked to her with a soft stare, and he reached forward to show Rose the glass of red wine he had poured a short while ago.

“I needed some of this after the first time I made that potion,” he told her, and he offered the glass to her. “Not as good as sherry, I’m afraid, but it takes the edge off.” Rose could stop the reluctant giggle from escaping her lips, and she accepted the glass with a kiss as she sat down beside her lover. She downed half the wine in one swig. Severus was right; it wasn’t as good as sherry.

“Are you alright?” asked Severus, resting a hand on her thigh.

“I was an idiot back there,” said Rose, swirling the dark liquid in her glass. “Severus, I’m so sorry for those things I said. You were trying to help me, and I was being such a bitch!”

“Yes, you were,” Severus flat out told her. “But I realize that I wasn’t totally innocent either.”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t have gotten so bad if I hadn’t shouted at you.” Rose swallowed her second long mouthful of wine, and she set down the empty glass on the table. She then leaned into Severus’s arms for a tight embrace. “Oh Sev, I’m so sorry.”

“Arguments happen, love,” said Severus. “We are no more immune than any other couple, and needless to say, you and I do still have conflicting dispositions. We were bound to knock heads at some point.”

“But Sev –,”

“I know, I know. It was stupid and it shouldn’t have happened. But don’t dwell on any of it. It’s over, it’s done with.”

“You would forgive me so easily?” asked Rose, tilting her chin up to look at Severus. “After those nasty things I said to you?”

“I knew what I was getting into when I fell for a Gryffindor,” Severus said with a smirk. “And I’m sure Granger has warned you enough about me.”

Rose understood what Severus was eluding to say. If the two of them could not forgive any little thing said, then there wasn’t any sense in trying. The facts were easy to set aside, but they could never be truly ignored. They were both quite headstrong, and very stubborn. And history had already proven that they were prone to shouting matches. But they were bound to happen, just as it was with anyone else. Her mother always did say that relationships took a lot of work, and Rose felt it now more than ever in her young life.

“I still feel like an errant fool,” she mumbled into Severus’s shoulder. She noticed how Severus’s eyebrow twitched slightly, and his smirk grew into a charming smile. Rose suddenly found herself with an insatiable desire to snog him into the cushions.

“Well,” Severus crooned, stroking Rose’s cheek with one finger. “We’ll have to rectify that, won’t we Rosie?” And with that little nod of permission, Rose lunged up and ensnared Severus with her wine-flavored lips. The Potions master toppled back onto the sofa, taking the kiss full force. He felt Rose shift her leg up, thus lifting her weight off of his abdomen as she deepened their snogging. She tasted like fine wine and passionate lust, and when Rose detached herself finally and sat up breathlessly with a pink-flushed face, there was only one thing on Severus’s mind.

“Bedroom…now.”

It seemed that was exactly what Rose wanted to hear. With a mischievous grin, she leapt over the top of the sofa and headed right for the open door, pulling her shirt up over her head. Severus for his part was much slower to rise, though his end-of-the-day fatigue did not dampen his sexual desire for his young lover. He lumbered over to the bedchamber; his extra bulk, he now noticed, was definitely starting to add a certain little sway to his step.

The scene was almost too perfect to imagine. The crisp cotton sheets were already turned back and waiting to be turned into a rumpled mess. The fire in the hearth burned strong and filled the room with exuberant warmth. Rose had her back turned as she slipped off her bra, and she let her jeans slide down her legs to the floor. She wasn’t even wearing underwear, the little slut! Severus cleared his throat to announce his presence, and the unabashedly nude Rose turned to look over her shoulder at him. Severus couldn’t help but stare at her and her perfect arse for a moment, and he felt an odd shimmy from the baby inside him. Rose’s smile glistened in the golden light of the fire as she toddled backwards and leapt onto the bed, landing gracefully on her back.

“I’m ready…” she chanted melodically, and Severus bit his lower lip. He worked as quickly as he could to get his robes off, fumbling with buttons and jerking off his trousers. Rose waited patiently, though her eyes suggested she was ready to crawl out of her skin. Once Severus was as bare as his young girlfriend, he moved toward the bed and carefully mounted himself over her, which was now a bit tedious as Severus did not want to crush her under his added weight. Rose looked up at him with her hungry blue gaze, mouthing a soft _“Love you…”_ to him, and Severus went down on her without a word.

The sex certainly wasn’t bad by any definition. It was taking a little longer, and they had to take it a little bit slower. But Severus was trying as hard as his tired, heavy, pregnant body would allow. He clenched his eyes shut, grunts escaping his throat as he put all the energy he had into pleasuring Rose. But whenever he glanced down at the redheaded witch beneath him, he noticed how Rose was looking more frustrated with every strained thrust.

“Faster, Sev!” she snarled through her teeth, gripping the sheets with tremendous strength. “Fuck me into the floor!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” gasped Severus, and he groaned with the exertion. “You try doing this when you’re six months pregnant!”

“Well keep trying!” Rose voice was starting to come in almost a pleading cry. “Please Sev! Faster! _Harder!!_ ”

Try Severus did, and with all his might. But even with his and Rose’s combined efforts, he just could not muster up the energy to carry them to a climax. With a last weak thrust, Severus gave up with a gasp. He propped himself up above Rose, puffing for breath. “I can’t do it,” he muttered. “I’m sorry Rose, but…but I just can’t do it tonight.”

Rose’s eyes flared in the dim light, and she growled loudly. Her hand came up to push against Severus’s chest. “Get off!” she barked, shoving Severus over to the side of the bed. “Get off me!” Severus settled back onto the pillows, propping himself up on his elbows. Even in his sex-drained state, he feared that he was about to watch his frustrated girlfriend get dressed and leave in a tizzy. But he could not have been more surprised as he watched Rose get up on her knees, her sweat-misted hair matted to her forehead, temples, and back. She then crept over to the pregnant Potions master and eased a slender leg over his body to straddle his hips.

“If you’re not going to put your back into it, then I will. I’m not going to let a little tiredness ruin our fun.”

_‘Oh, like she would know,’_ Severus thought. It was amazing how the young could run on such a boundless source of adrenaline, how they could keep going even as they left others in the dust. If Rose was ever exhausted, she never let it show. It was moments like this that made Severus feel old, not to mention ungainly. He could have satisfied Rose himself if he hadn’t become such a swollen toad.

Rose ran her hands down Severus’s bare chest, her fingertips brushing over his nipples, still so sensitive from pregnancy. His breath hitched sharply at the powerful sensation. “Oh you like that, do you?” crooned Rose, and she leaned forward to devour him in a kiss. Coming up again, she rubbed her hand over the rounded belly that was her lover’s unborn child, her fingers drifting across the light stretch marks that she always ignored. Severus let his eyes drift closed, soothed by the motion, and Rose felt a tiny hand stroke against hers. She bent over to kiss the spot.

“You’re too good to me, Sev,” she said, hovering over his belly. She straightened herself up, vivacious fire in her eager eye. “Now let me be good to you.”

“Rosie…” Severus pleaded, and Rose giggled as she whispered, “I think you will sleep very well tonight, my love.” She gripped the headboard above Severus’s head for support, and she slid into the most comfortable stance for both herself and her lover. She looked down at Severus a last time before she inhaled deeply and started moving.

That night would forever be remembered as the night when the Gryffindor dominance was born in Rosella Beckett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Admission: I think my version of how the Wolfsbane Potion was not as good as it could have been. It took forever to actually plot out the brewing instructions and an insane amount of research for ingredients. But at the end of the day, I did what I could, and I settle for the likely fact that J.K. Rowling would have done it better.
> 
> Also, I used Antimony as an ingredient because I thought it would make an interesting twist as it is used in flame retardants. I know that I'm probably seriously messing around with real science. My father is a chemistry teacher, and I think he would be embarrassed to read this particular chapter.


	62. Hope in the uncertain

February wore on with its dreary skies and fleeting snow flurries, and Severus continued in his attempts to adjust to his advancing pregnancy. With his belly growing more and more every day, the pregnant wizard was having a harder time getting around than he once did. His once agile steps had become much more careful, and Severus found he had to slow down to disguise the noticeable wobble in his gait. He was also no longer able to rise from his chair without a firm grip on the arms. There were the swelling ankles, and the stretch marks, and his ever increasing appetite. And even if it had its own set of benefits, having Rose pick up the sexual slack did not exactly do much for Severus’s masculine confidence.

He found himself beginning to miss his earlier days of pregnancy. He would gladly give his wand to never experience the torture of morning sickness again, but at least back then his body still felt like his body. Nowadays, he was a far cry from the graceful, straight-backed wizard who could move fluidly and quietly across great distances without effort. Gone was the Potions master who glided across classrooms, making students jump with a swift turn on his heel. He was robbing Rose of a strong, dominant lover, even if she denied it until her lips turned blue. It wasn’t like Severus would have believed her anyway. Swollen and heavy, Severus just did not feel much like a man anymore, and not even Rose’s charming words could change his mind.

“I hate to tell you this, dear, but it’s only going to get worse,” Poppy told him as she stood over his hospital bed, listening to the sound of the baby’s heartbeat as it bounced off the walls of Severus’s private room. The wizard watched her from his usual reclining position on the bed. “You know that the bigger you get, the more pace and balance will be affected.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?” asked Severus, a little annoyed. He would have preferred not to talk at this particular moment; he liked listening to his child’s heart while he had the chance. “It will be a little difficult to explain myself when I waddle like a bloody duck across my dungeons.”

“Oh Severus, the solution is rather simple,” the Mediwitch reassured him. She made a note in Severus’s records and then sat down on the edge of the bed. She gently patted Severus’s bare belly. “I actually like the fact that you have decided to slow down. It would have done you some good before you got pregnant. But it truly bothers you, and I completely understand why it would, you could utilize the Feather-weight Charm. It would take some of the strain off of your lower back, and it would hide any changes to your natural stride. Filius would be able to give you a finer explanation, I believe. The same rules apply, however. I only want you using the charm when it is absolutely necessary. I doubt that our five little troublemakers would mind seeing you hobble about.”

Severus sneered; if only Poppy knew how terribly unappealing that was in the bedroom when he was trying to be sexy.

Poppy concluded her examination, and Severus sat up to dress himself again. As he worked at buttoning up his frock coat, he noticed that Poppy had pulled a chair up to the side of the bed. “Before you go, Severus,” she said carefully. “There is one more thing I need to ask you.”

“What is that?” asked Severus. He wondered what it was that Poppy thought to delay him with; her tests were done, the baby was healthy, and he very much wished to get on with the rest of his day.

“As you are aware, you are in your sixth month now, and that means it is now possible to perform a reliable Paternity Charm on the baby.” Poppy reached out and touched Severus’s arm. “I am certainly not expecting much of you, but if you wish to know who your child’s other father is, all you have to do is ask.”

Severus sat still for barely a second before he slowly shook his head. He then did up the rest of his buttons, cast the appropriate spells on his burgeoning abdomen, and set off to return to the dungeons. He left Poppy in a state of sedate understanding, but there wasn’t very much he could do to help with that. That was not in any way a decision that he could make lightly. It never was, and it never would be.

**~HP~**

“Do you think you will ever want to know who the baby’s father is?” Rose asked as she and Severus sat up in bed together. Cross-legged at the foot of the bed, she had an array of books open to aid in the Transfiguration homework she was currently working on. Severus meanwhile was resting against the headboard, his feet and back both supported by several pillows. His book rested against his growing bump.

Severus glanced up at Rose for a moment, almost like he was surprised by the question. He had told her about what was said in the hospital wing that day, the first time he had brought up the subject of his child’s paternity since first telling Rose that he was pregnant. But as Rose had been leery to bring it up again since then, he almost assumed that it no longer mattered to her. “I don’t know,” he said with sincerity. “Given the circumstances, it’s not exactly the easiest decision to make concerning my child’s upbringing.”

“But Sev, aren’t you ever just a little bit curious?” Rose reached over and grabbed a warm chocolate chunk biscuit from the plate that rested between her and Severus. She spoke through small mouthfuls as she continued to read and write on the parchment in her lap. “I mean, we certainly know that he’s the most despicable of blokes, but you must wonder which despicable bloke he is.”

Severus sighed as he dunked what remained of his chocolaty morsel into his glass of milk; the bland taste was finally starting to grow on him after months of being forced to drink it. “I find it is not healthy to dwell on those unpleasant memories, for any of us,”

Rose looked up from her work and gazed at Severus. If she had to be honest, those words were rather troubling to her. She knew that Severus had a really difficult time talking about the baby’s paternity, but it was foolish to suggest that it was for her benefit, like Severus was sparing her from the horrid thoughts it could rile up. Yet at the same time, it would be beyond foolish to talk a rape victim into revisiting their attack. No matter which way she looked at it, Rose was stuck between a rock and a hard place on this one, and anything she said would have to be delicate.

Delicate, however, was not always Rose’s strongpoint.

“Answer me this, Sev,” she said, setting aside her parchment roll and crawling over to Severus to rub his aching feet. “Are you so hesitant to find out because you’re afraid of exactly who it might be?” Surprisingly, Severus barely even flinched at the question. He cocked his eyebrow at her in a tired sort of way, and only sneered slightly.

“I’ve had my moments,” he admitted. In spite of himself, he felt himself starting to melt back into his pillows; having Rose kneading his muscles felt way too good sometimes. “I came in contact with a vast assortment of twisted wizards in my years among the Death Eaters, and I confess that there are some who I would fear more than others.”

“Any you would be willing to divulge to me?” asked Rose, but Severus stuck up a thin, pointed finger. “Watch yourself, Rose.”

“Sorry,” Rose frowned, her massaging hands moving up her pregnant lover’s legs. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” said Severus. “But regardless of his identity, he will have absolutely no part in my child’s life because he will never know the child even exists, and therefore it doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does,” said Rose. Severus looked at her, slightly confused for a brief moment before saying, “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because I think the baby has the right to know.”

At that point, Severus’s massage came to an abrupt end. He jerked his leg back as he sat up further to look Rose in her blue eye. “Rose, you are very young, and very idealistic. But think about what you just said. I don’t know if the baby will ever know that it was me who gave birth to him or her. I don’t even know if they will know that they were the product of rape. But in all this time, all these decisions I’ve had to make concerning my child, there was always one thing I knew for sure, and that was that I didn’t want them to know who their other father was.”

“Why?” asked Rose.

“Simply because of who he might be,” said Severus. “The wizard who raped me could have been a fringe supporter of the Dark Lord, he could have been an unmarked accomplice, he could even be one of the actual Death Eaters. No matter who he is, he is still a dark wizard, and I know even now that I never want my child to be exposed to that malice.”

“He or she will still wonder though,” said Rose, her flaxen brow starting to wrinkle. “What will you do when your child grows up, and they come to you wanting to know about their other parent? Every child deserves to know their parents, love. Take me for example. I had the right to know my father, and my mother knew that. As a result, she put a lot of effort into making sure my father was a part of my life.”

“But look how that turned out,” Severus cynically mentioned. Rose paused abruptly, looking suddenly crestfallen now that her encouragement had been broken by cold, hard reality. But she pursed her lips in thought, and she nodded her head at Severus.

“You’re right,” she said. “It turned out that my father was a selfish bastard, and he’s made my life a living hell at times. And in the end, he chose to abandon me. I may never speak to him again for as long as I live. But do I regret knowing him? No, I don’t. I realize that he is, and always was a dark wizard, however minimal his role might have been. But the pain of knowing that is still far less than it would have been if I never knew who he was. It’s better to mourn a lost relationship than to long for a relationship that never was.”

They were words that resonated with Severus in so many ways. Both he and Rose had lost many relationships, and they both longed for love that they never received. But she had a point, and a great one at that. Rose was who she was partly because she had Alistair Beckett in her life. He showed her what it was to be a coward, to be a no good scoundrel. He cared for no one but himself, and Rose took that to heart. Her compassion for others was born out of her father’s selfishness. And because Alistair spinelessly deserted Rose when their relation became too inconvenient for the wannabe Death Eater, Rose had to learn to fend for herself in between those so-called support payments, helping her to become independent in her last few years at home. Rose had grown up to be a fine young woman, and Alistair would likely never know how much he had to do with it.

However, Rose was a solitary case. Her father might be a convicted dark wizard, but he was nowhere near the top of the Dark Lord’s ranks. There were wizards among those followers who were far more fanatical and ruthless in their zealotry. Even though many Death Eaters were now either dead or behind bars, there were still a small, but alarming number of them that were unaccounted for. And there was a chance that any one of them could have been the maniac who raped Severus in the filthy cobbled streets of Knockturn Alley.

“I couldn’t do that to my child,” he said to Rose. “The Death Eaters are among the foulest things to walk these lands. They know dark magic that wizard kind should never be unlucky enough to see. They took what was left of my life, and they destroyed it. I never want my son or daughter to know about that kind of evil.”

“I’m not saying you should,” said Rose. “Believe me, Sev. I completely agree with you that this man should not be allowed anywhere near the baby. Frankly, he should be in prison simply for raping you like that. But if it were me, if my child came to me wondering about their father, I would at least give them the satisfaction of a name.”

“Even if that name could be among the most infamous in recent history?”

Rose let out a breath as she crawled further up the bed. “There’s no harm in knowing, Severus. Chances are that he’s not anyone of particular importance. And even so, most of the Death Eaters have been captured by now. He could already be in prison for all we know. Either way, you said it yourself. He’s gone, he’s not going to lay a hand on you ever again, and he’s never going to know about the baby. There is no more harm that could come to us if we happen to know his name.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that this mattered more to you than to me,” Severus said with a curve in his black eyebrow.

“Well, there is that part of me that wants nothing more than to strangle him with my bare hands. It would be nice to be able to attach a face to those fantasies.” Rose leaned into Severus’s face with her impish little grin, seeking a kiss. “No one rapes the love of my life and then gets away with it.”

“You waxing romantic,” Severus crooned, and he leaned in to give her what she desired. When their lips broke apart, Rose snuggled down and rested her head on Severus’s shoulder. Her hand soon found its way to her lover’s rounded belly.

“You know what, though?” she hummed. “I think it would be good for you to know his identity. We might not be able to get justice for what happened, but at least we will have a clearer image than just a shrouded wizard in the shadows. It could bring you some closure.”

“It could,” sighed Severus, though there wasn’t a great deal of confidence behind it. He didn’t bother telling Rose that she had done little to change his mind. Although, as was her little habit, she certainly had given Severus quite a lot to think about before his next visit with Poppy.

**~HP~**

As Severus approached the end of his second trimester, people began to take it upon themselves to make more affirmative preparations for his baby’s increasingly imminent arrival. Armed with information that Minerva had obtained in her trips into the village with the Potions master, the few professors who knew of his condition began making their own evening excursions to purchase the various items Severus had liked. With respect to Severus’s personal wishes, there was no stomach-turning baby shower, or any other kind of flashy presentation. But that did nothing to dampen the professors’ spirits, proudly presenting Severus with gifts they believed he and his child sorely needed.

Minerva and Albus had decided to pitch in together and buy the handsome crib of rich mahogany that Severus had admired in the shop. He said to the elderly witch that his child should have furnishings that were sturdy, but also well- fashioned. It had actually come as quite a surprise to Severus; he had been making preparations to purchase it himself when he had the time. More surprising was how Albus went and purchased the matching dresser. Severus noted that the twinkling in the old headmaster’s eyes as they arranged the furniture at the far end of Severus’s bedchamber was not unlike that of a man eagerly awaiting his first grandchild, and for once, the Slytherin did not chastise him for it. When it came to choosing stand-ins for his long dead parents, Albus and Minerva were as good as it got. They had to be if they were willing to shell out that much money for his child. For the first time since becoming pregnant, Severus genuinely appreciated their help.

Pomona’s contribution was a fine changing table, complete with nappies and other necessary products, and some very nice crib bedding in white and mint green. The little green swaddling blanket that Remus had given Severus on his birthday went perfectly, and it was also laid out on the tiny padding. Filius showed up with a high chair and a little oak cradle that Severus could use while in his classroom or office. And Cassandra, driven by her guilt for stumbling upon Severus’s pregnancy so spectacularly, invested an entire month’s salary on a supply of bottles, blankets, baby bath goods, and a zoo’s worth of stuffed animals. All in all, between everybody, there wouldn’t be much left for Severus to worry about when it came to both his finances and his child’s needs.

Severus tried to find something about this to gripe about, but he realized that it was both pointless and unfair to his colleagues. There hadn’t been a baby among the Hogwarts staff in so long, Minerva reminded him, so they had every right to be excited. The only thing that Severus could really complain about was their timing. The Heads of House in particular had made a habit of seeking him out in the later hours of the day, when Severus would ordinarily be spending time with Rose. Severus tried to make some good of that situation, often chuckling as he watched Rose come out of her various hiding spots around his quarters. It really was amusing to see the Gryffindor lying in the bathtub to avoid Pomona, or dash into the closet when Filius came calling.

But when all was said and done, and when Rose was free to walk about his quarters, Severus was left to look upon his growing nursery of items and marvel at the kindness of people when he shouldn’t have deserved it. And with just over three months away from his due date, it was starting to get unnerving to think of just how soon he would be a father. Once again, hard reality hit Severus over the head with tremendous force.

He would be a father in three months, and he still didn’t know the first thing about caring for an infant!

**~HP~**

Rose sat anxiously in the armchair of Severus’s sitting room, twitching her leg and twirling he hair around with her fingers. Every couple of minutes, she would look over her shoulder at the closed door, as though it could open at any second. “He is coming, isn’t he?” she asked, letting her voice bounce off the walls for Severus to hear. The Potions master was presently on the sofa, hunched over a book. Having been privy to Severus’s hesitations over impending fatherhood, Poppy had graciously lent him several hardcover titles on childcare and other parenting advice. Needless to say, Severus hadn’t put these books down since they landed in his hands.

“Keep your knickers on, love,” he said, flipping a page over. “Remus said that he would be along this afternoon, he just didn’t specify when.”

Rose scoffed softly. She had been skeptical all of that snowy Saturday, after Severus came to her after breakfast and told her that Lupin wanted to see the two of them together. At first, Rose thought to turn down the invitation, mostly due to the Quidditch practice that Harry had scheduled for that day. But her loyalty to Severus and her promise of a renewed connection with Lupin that swayed her the other way. She gave a phony excuse to Harry, saying that she had to help Severus with a large Potions order, and she left her teammates to their windblown training. Three hours had passed, and now Rose’s patience was wearing thin.

“I don’t suppose he’s told you what this is all about,” said Rose, turning back to Severus. “And why exactly do I need to be here? He’s your friend.”

“Remus knows better than to tell me anything of what he plans to do if he actually wants to accomplish anything,” Severus sneered, making Rose titter. “Honestly Rose, if your presence was not required, I doubt Remus would have asked that you be here.”

Almost on exact cue, there was a hearty rap at the door. Severus could see Rose’s limbs tense up, ready to bolt for the cloak closet across the room. He turned his black eyes over to the old wooden barrier that blocked them from the outside world. “Who’s there?” he called, his tone as leery as the rest of him.

“Severus, it’s me,” Remus’s voice echoed in. “Open the door!” Severus’s eyes darted back to Rose, who had visible relaxed, and he jerked his head toward the door. Rose got the silent hint, and with a submitting sigh, she rose up and walked over to answer the werewolf’s call. She kept her body concealed behind the door as she pulled it inwards.

Remus entered back first, his shoulders slumped slightly under the weight of the load he carried. Over his shoulder was a large patchwork bag which appeared to be filled to capacity. And in one hand, he tightly held what Rose and Severus could easily see to be a well-worn Moses basket. Quite surprised, they both nearly froze when Remus turned around to show them the little, ten month-old baby boy he carried in his free arm.

“What’s all this?” Severus asked as he closed his book and slowly eased to his feet.

“Ah Severus, I don’t believe you have met my son,” said Remus with a smile.

“This is Teddy?” Rose asked as she came out from behind the door, and Remus nodded proudly. Rose instantly melted into a wide smile and high-pitched baby-talk. She bent over slightly to meet the infant’s eye line, and she waved at him gently. Teddy slunk into Remus’s shoulder slightly at this new face, even more so when he caught a glimpse at Severus. He gripped at his father’s collar with tiny, chubby fingers.

“Forgive me, he’s not usually this shy,” said Remus. “He’ll likely perk up in a few minutes, once he gets to know the two of you.”

“Can I hold him?” Rose asked, brimming with excitement.

“Sure,” Remus nodded. He used the heel of his boot to push the door closed, and very carefully, he transferred Teddy from his arm into Rose’s hands. Severus watched as his girlfriend shifted her arms to support the baby boy before finally letting him rest on her hip. She continued speaking softly to him in incoherent babbles, eventually coaxing a smile out of the sandy-haired boy.

“Aw, he’s so precious!” she cooed, sounding more like a foolish young girl than Severus could ever recall. “He looks so much like you, Professor.”

“No need to flatter, Rose, and you can call me Remus,” the werewolf told her. He thought that a first name basis would be easier for Rose now that they were outside his class and hidden away from the rest of the population. If he wanted to build up a better relationship with Severus’s young mistress, then the formality would have to go. It also made sense when he realized that Harry and his friends were allowed to call him by his given name outside class, and she ought to be given the privilege as well. He held out the Moses basket for Rose to take. “Why don’t you go get him settled in. He’s had quite the trip getting here.”

Rose nodded and grasped the basket, turning to cross the room. Severus followed her with his eyes, watching her kneel cumbersomely on the floor and place baby Teddy into his basket. The pregnant wizard walked over to Remus, who was in the process of taking bottles and nappies out of the patchwork bag. “What is going on?” he asked, “Why did you bring your son here?”

“You don’t know?” said Remus, arching his eyebrows. “Hmm, I thought it would be obvious. I’m going to show you a few tips for taking care of a baby.”

“You – what?” Severus stammered, but Remus purposely interrupted him before he could start rambling. “Hey, I see that book over there. Look Severus, we’re not born with that knowledge, and we all have to start somewhere. I thought I would provide with some firsthand experience instead of relying on a couple of parenting guides.”

“You want me to practice on your son?” asked Severus. “Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

“I trust you with him, Severus,” Remus assured him. “I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of bringing him all the way here if I didn’t have confidence in you. Besides, Teddy’s already ten months old, and he’s always been an easy baby. I doubt you will have too much trouble. And even if you do, that’s what I’m here for, Rose too. I understand that she’s got a big family on her Muggle side.”

“Having nine younger cousins doesn’t guarantee that she’s any more adept at this than I am,” Severus said with a shaking head, making Remus chuckle under his breath.

Suddenly from behind, they heard a quick, but very high yelp. The two wizards turned on a dime to where Rose was sitting on the floor. She had an arm propping her up, like she had been pushed back, and the hand that covered her mouth just barely exposed her tea-saucer-sized eyes. Remus stepped forward. “Rose, what’s wrong?”

“His – he’s –,” Rose pointed a shaky finger into the basket, unable to get any words out. Remus and Severus both looked in to see that Teddy’s fair, wispy hair had turned a very bright turquoise blue, clearly starting Rose. The little boy giggled loudly; he obviously found this girl’s reaction to be terribly amusing.

“Ah yes, I should have warned you about that,” Remus said with a sigh. He got down on one knee and gently ruffled his son’s fluorescent hair. “You being a little scamp, are you boy?” Teddy laughed, reaching for Remus’s larger fingers.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Rose piped up. She brought a hand up to massage her temple.

“Teddy is what we call a Metamorphmagus,” explained Severus as he strolled over to stand over Rose. “He is capable of changing his outward appearance at his own free will. You would remember that from your Transfiguration lessons.”

“It’s a talent he inherited form his mother,” Remus added, and he leaned forward and picked Teddy up in his arms. “Have a look at this.” Remus carefully reached out and took a lock of Rose’s red hair in his fingers. He then looked down at Teddy.

“Teddy, what color is this?” he softly asked. The ten month-old studied Rose for a moment, his face oddly inquisitive for a lad so young. But he then let out an unintelligible babble, and his hair faded into Rose’s deep golden ginger. Both Rose and Severus raised their eyebrows at the sight.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Rose mused aloud. “What a clever little boy you’ve got!”

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Remus, bouncing Teddy in his arms. His tone suggested that he didn’t want to carry on with the compliments, but the look on his face just oozed parental pride. He got back to his feet and carried his son over to the sofa.

“Alright Remus,” Severus droned as he sat down beside his friend and colleague. “You insisted on using your boy as a living doll, what do you propose we begin with?” Remus was all too kind to oblige. He turned right to the Potions master and held Teddy out to him.

“We’ll start by making sure you know how to hold a baby.”

At first, Severus was a little taken aback. He knew how to hold a small child! Of course, the last time he’d had to do that was when Draco was an infant, nearly nineteen years before, and he had not had held a child since. Severus thought that this would was knowledge not easily disposed of. But when Remus carefully laid his son in his arms, Severus’s body and limbs went rigid.

“You can loosen up a bit,” said Remus, and Rose swooped in to help better position Severus’s arms. “He’s not a newborn anymore, so it’s a little easier for you now. Just make sure that you support his head properly in case he starts to nod off.”

Severus looked down at the child in his arms, not quite sure what he should be doing. Teddy was nothing more than a limp potato sack, more content to lie there and stare at him than get a look of his bizarre new surroundings. He stared so long that Severus was almost waiting for the panicked wails to start. But Teddy soon gave a little giggle, and his hair faded back to that rich turquoise.

“Well, what do you know,” Remus said with a smile. “I think he likes you, Severus.”

Severus’s brow arched up slightly at the comment. “Well,” he uttered, “Your son obviously has very good taste. You should be proud, Remus.” Rose laughed from her place on the chair nearby, hiding her grin behind her hand. Severus however ignored her, instead turning his focus back on the little blue-haired baby he held.

Ten minutes had passed by when Remus looked at his watch and announced that Teddy was due for a feeding. He instructed Rose to fetch a clean bottle from the bag and fill it with warm water, while he moved over to the table with a small container of formula. He showed Severus how to properly prepare a bottle, information that all three of them knew was rather crucial given that Severus showed no signs of being able to feed his child himself. Not that Severus minded that of course; the idea of him breastfeeding was frankly horrifying, and even Rose had to admit her aversion to it. In any case, Severus paid rapt attention to what Remus was showing him, taking note of the proper amount of formula powder and watching how Remus used a charm to heat the bottle to the right temperature. After a quick test on the skin of his wrist, Remus held the bottle out to Severus. Severus grasped it firmly, carefully turned his wrist downward, and Teddy latched onto the nipple. The little guy sucked heartily, and a smirk tugged at the corner of Severus’s thin lips. Rose and Remus watched on, both of whom looked very pleased by what they saw. And suddenly, Severus started to feel a bit more confident. Maybe all that fretting really was senseless.

Teddy soon let go of the nipple, and Severus looked to see that he had consumed nearly the entire bottle. “He’s an animal, Remus,” he said, instinctively shifting Teddy up to his shoulder. “He certainly does take after his father.” Remus laughed as he instructed how to burp a baby.

“Before you do that, Sev,” Rose interjected suddenly. She grabbed a small towel from among the baby supplies, and she walked over to drape it over Severus’s shoulder. “My youngest cousin is fourteen months old, and she’s ruined so many of my nice blouses.”

Severus rolled his eyes; leave it to Rose remind them of the stomach-turning parts of infanthood. Sure enough, the burp that Teddy produced also included a gob of spit, which Rose whisked away quickly. When Remus told them that Teddy’s nappy also needed to be changed, Severus looked at Rose, silently pleading for her to do it for him. Rose however gave him a firm shake of the head. The only babies she had changed were her youngest cousins, and they were all girls. She didn’t have the slightest clue what to do with a boy. And besides, Severus needed to be able to do this for himself, which Rose was keen to remind him of. She after all couldn’t be there all the time.

As well-behaved as he was, Teddy did not appreciate having his nappy changed. Whatever energy that didn’t go into frantically kicking his little legs was spent on shrieking at the top of his lungs. Severus looked to Remus for some desperate help, but the werewolf just kicked back into his chair and reveled in his amusement. It wasn’t very often that one got to see Severus Snape struggle, and he wanted to enjoy every minute of it. It ended up that Rose crept over from the corner which she had retreated to, and she tried her best to talk Severus through the steps, even attempting to distract Teddy’s attention while Severus worked. When the nappy was finally successfully on, and Teddy had stopped crying, Severus stepped back with a smirk so triumphant that Remus and Rose had to do everything they could not to burst out laughing.

The rest of the afternoon was chatting about all things from the interesting to the mundane. Teddy was passed from hand to hand, the little lad not minding it one bit. Remus soon set his son down onto the floor, and he and Severus watched Teddy shuffle across his favorite playtime blanket, his hair changing from one vibrant shade to another as he played with the toys Rose held out to him.

“He sure is a happy child, isn’t he?” said Severus, his ears filled with Teddy’s laughter when Rose entertained him with a silly game of peekaboo.

“Oh yes,” Remus nodded. “One of the first decisions I made as a father was that I wanted my son to grow up knowing how loved he was, and that he live his life to the fullest. He might be an exhausting little rascal to look after at times, but it’s all worth it to me.”

“He’s like a little puppy,” smiled Rose, and Remus caught the chuckle in his throat at the cheek in that comparison. “He is, isn’t he? But he’s my little puppy, and I wouldn’t change a thing about him. I see that look, Severus. You will sound just as sappy when you’re talking about your child.”

_‘Oh, Lord help us all if I do,’_ Severus let his eyes roll slowly, and he turned his attention back down to the floor. Teddy was crawling his way up Rose’s side, reaching for her long locks of hair, which were apparently very enticing. Rose’s response was to sweep the baby into her arms and nuzzle his little tummy. It was amazing to Severus how patient she was with this child. There was no blood connecting them, and yet Rose handled Teddy as though he was one of her young Muggle relatives, maybe even like he was her own son. Severus couldn’t help but to feel lucky; not only had he found himself a wonderful woman, but she could hold her own with young children. Even in her youth, Rose showed immense potential to be a great parent one day.

_‘That future could be ours…’_ Severus swallowed at the thought. It would have been a more pleasant thought if he didn’t have more than his own life to consider. Severus knew that Rose had goals for her future, but no one could really be sure if he and the baby had a place in it.

“So where did you get the name Teddy?” Rose asked Remus, bringing Severus back to the present.

“We named him after Dora’s father,” said Remus, explaining what many, including Severus, already knew. “It was the only name we had picked out for a boy. It’s a bit funny because she kept saying that if the baby was a girl, then she wanted to name it Summer. She thought it would give our child a sunny disposition.”

“Well given the time when she was expecting, I can see why she would want to do that. And Severus tells me that she was a rather quirky woman.”

“It didn’t stop people from joking with her,” Remus told the younger Gryffindor. “Actually, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a small part of that. The general consensus was that if that was the direction we wanted to go in, given the state of the world, then we would have been better off calling our baby Winter.”

Rose was leaning over to grab Teddy’s stuffed puppy dog when she caught a glimpse of Severus’s face. His brow had furrowed slightly over his ebony eyes, which seemed to be drawn inward as he stared down at the floor. “What’s that look, Sev?” she asked. Severus’s brow perked up at the sound of her voice.

“Winter doesn’t sound like a bad name.”

**~HP~**

Rose and Remus had both been a little surprised by Severus’s statement. In all the time they had been talking about his unborn baby, neither of them had pressed the issue of names, mostly because they didn’t want to make Severus feel like he was being pressured. And Severus himself had to admit that he hadn’t given a fair deal of thought to his soon-to-be child’s name, putting it off in favor of other hassles. But they all seemed to agree that now was a good time to start thinking about it. If Remus was to be believed, the third trimester went by quickly. Remus ended up leaving Severus and Rose alone with Teddy while he made a quick trip to Dumbledore’s office, returning with a book of Wizarding baby names for Severus to look through.

The sun was setting by the time Remus collected Teddy’s things and packed them away. But before he left, he reached into a robe pocket and pulled out a tiny, shrunken package. A quick swipe of his wand brought it back up to size, revealing it to be a box of baby clothes that Minerva and Pomona had collected up.

“There’ll be plenty more where that came from,” he commented. “Cassandra tells me that she’s waiting to see if it’s a boy or a girl. And Andromeda saves the clothes that Teddy’s outgrown, so you could have those too if you’d like.” Severus acknowledged him with a curt nod. Remus then gathered his son up in his arms, and he set off for the long trip back to his mother-in-law’s.

“What do you think of Sage?” asked Severus, reading off of the short list he had compiled, the book of names still open at his side on the bed.

“I don’t know, it seems a tad bit obvious for a Potions master’s child,” Rose said on the other side of the bed. She was in the middle of sorting out the many articles of tiny clothing and folding them neatly into piles. “Although, it is a name that could work for either a girl or a boy. It might be alright.”

Alright was definitely not what Severus was looking for. He continued down the scribbled list, testing the different names off of Rose’s female standpoints and opinions. “Alright, how about Isabella?”

“It’s pretty common. There are three among the First years alone.”

“Sarah?”

“I have a cousin named Sarah?”

“Do you?”

“She’s a spoiled little demon.”

Severus nodded briefly with an arch in her brow. “I see…what about Rosaline?”

“Oh come on, Severus!” barked Rose. “Don’t make people think you named the poor kid after me, even if it is a different name than my own.”

“I’m just kidding with you, Rose,” Severus snickered. “Just wanted to see what you would say to that.”

“Very funny,” Rose said with a smirk. She bunched together a couple pairs of white socks and set them aside. “Honestly Severus, you can name your child anything you want. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I think it does because I would rather like your input, love.” Severus turned his piece of parchment around and held it out for Rose to see. “Which ones do you think would work?”

Rose leaned over and read over the list, and she felt her lips tug into a smile. In such a short amount of time, Severus had come up with enough names to almost fill up the page. She was surprised to see that there were more girls’ names than boys’, and she briefly wondered if there was something that Severus wasn’t telling her.

“It’s intuition, Rose,” he said upon Rose’s asking. “I might be as inept at Divination as you are, but I’ve got a fairly good feeling about this.”

“Of course,” said Rose, and she continued reading. She giggled when she saw that a majority of the names that Severus favored started with the letter S, and she resisted the urge to compare them to Severus’s own name. “I kind of like Shiloh and Sandra for a girl, and Sheridan and Shea for a boy. But again, it’s you having the baby. Which ones do you like best?”

“I agree with you on the boys, but for the girls, I’m more partial to Sarina and Scarlett. They’re good and expressive, I think.”

“Winter is also very expressive, if the look on Remus’s face was any indication.”

Severus shook his head with a smirk. “I suppose. Ah, we still have three more months to decide.”

“Exactly,” said Rose. She carefully picked up a tiny white body suit, covered in cute little dragons, and she held it up with a warm smile. “It’s amazing how small they are to start out with, isn’t it Sev? It’s almost hard to believe we were ever that little.”

“I’m willing to bet that this is not how you saw yourself at eighteen,” said Severus, placing his list inside the book of names and sticking it in the drawer of his bedside table.

“I don’t think anyone sees themselves at eighteen putting away onesies and picking out names,” Rose replied. “But honestly Severus, I didn’t exactly plan out my young adulthood in the last few years. I had goals, but there was always a certain amount of doubt as long as Voldemort was around. And in the last few months since Dante died, I can go so far as to say that I thought I had no future at all. These days, I take everything from one day to the next.”

“Has your outlook on life changed since you have been with me?” Severus asked, and Rose’s fair brow arched up. “Of course, it has,” she said. “Severus, you are my life. It was you who gave me a future when I thought I had none. You gave me something to look forward to every day.” The Gryffindor leaned over the stacks of clothes and laid a kiss on her Slytherin lover. Severus gently tucked locks of ginger hair behind Rose’s ear.

“Do you see yourself with me in the future?” he asked.

“Only if you’ll have me,” said Rose. “What about you? Where do you see us in a year or so?”

“Hopefully still together, barring any more missteps with the people around us.”

“Ah Sev, Hermione and Remus were freak accidents, and I wouldn’t have stood up to them if I wasn’t serious about us. I’m in this for the long run.”

“Even after term ends?” Severus held his breath, almost dreading Rose’s answer, but the young witch just nodded and smiled. “Of course. Once term is out, then we’ll be free to be together.”

“But Rose,” said Severus, his tone becoming much more serious. “If you and I were to be together, you do realize what would eventually have to happen on your part.” Rose thought about that for a moment, not entirely sure what Severus meant. But just as she was reaching for a pale green body suit, she froze.

“I would have to leave my mother’s house,” she mumbled, and Severus nodded.

“You and your mother have been struggling for years, and I would hate to be the final nail in the coffin for your relationship.”

Rose wanted to be able shake Severus off, saying that he was being ridiculous in saying such things. But she knew that any attempts on her part would be nothing more than an errant lie. Her mother had disagreed with so many of Rose’s choices, talking down on everything from the Wizarding lifestyle to Rose’s every day mistakes. The last thing she would want would be to have her daughter leave home at such a young age to be with a boyfriend, especially an older boyfriend with a very young child. However, Rose realized that there would be a certain hypocrisy in such an objection. Her parents after all were married at the ripe old age of eighteen. And when it came down to it, it was her life. Her mother couldn’t control it any more than her father could from inside his prison walls.

“I was never really happy in my mother’s home,” Rose told Severus. “Even if I never knew you, I probably would have left at the first opportunity if I knew I was going to a better life. And I say that there would be no better life than being with you and the baby.”

“I can’t ask you to walk straight into motherhood,” said Severus. His hand fell habitually to his abdomen. “There are many things you could do with yourself, and you would likely have to put that on hold to help raise this baby. I could never ask you to do something like that for a child that isn’t even yours.”

“Hold on a second, Severus,” said Rose, sticking out her finely manicured finger. “I know what it takes to raise a child. I know because I had a young mother growing up. If I didn’t want any of that, I doubt I would be here with you tonight. But what matters to me is that I love you, and I am more than willing to make those sacrifices, like I would if I was pregnant. And you should know that any child of yours is as good as mine.”

Rose rested her hand on top of Severus’s, and the pregnant wizard felt her warmth radiate through him. The baby shifted inside, and Rose bent over and pressed a kiss to that distended belly. “Mummy’s here for you, little one,” she whispered.

“You’re really ready for this,” said Severus, thinking out loud. Rose looked back up at him with sparkling blue eyes.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking about this, Sev. And yes, I am. I want a life with you, and I want a life with the baby.”

“I know, and my life wouldn’t be complete without you,” Severus replied. “But you know…we must keep reality in mind.”

“You mean about our relationship?” asked Rose, and Severus nodded. The young witch sighed, but then she smirked as she shook her head. “No one knows what the future holds, love. All we can do is to take the days as they come and see what happens. Think of it this way; do you see yourself breaking up with me any time soon?”

“Not likely,” answered Severus.

“Then that’s how it’ll be,” said Rose. “Don’t put too much thought into it, just let it happen.”

“You are such an optimist,” Severus said with a hint of sarcasm. Rose sniggered. “Would you prefer the pessimist of yesteryear?” Rose’s reward for her sassiness was another sweet kiss.

Seeing that the piles of clothes were beginning to accumulate, Severus decided to put himself to good use and rose up from the bed. He carefully took the neat stacks Rose had created, and he then padded slowly across the room to arrange them as he liked in the dresser. As he sorted the tiny garments by size and color, he caught sight of the little opened box resting just on top of the hard wooden surface. In it was a little blue and white knitted jumper that Dumbledore had wittingly made to match the booties he had given Severus back in October. And in that moment, Severus couldn’t help but to foolishly look down at his belly and smile.

Was this how normal life was supposed to feel like, to eagerly await a first child with an excited and supportive partner? There were certainly many, very different ways Severus could have come about a moment like this, but just as Remus had said about that pup of his, he wouldn’t have changed a thing to have Rose and his much-wanted baby. As uncertain as the future was, Severus could still sense that there was something there to be had with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, I do already know what the baby's gender will be. But I'm curious, what do you think it's going to be?


	63. Never Enough

Severus crunched down on his second apple of the morning as he reclined behind his office desk. _The_ _Daily Prophet_ was open in front of him, and right now, the Potions master was really regretting his decision to spend his midmorning break reading through it more thoroughly. That day, they had published a very long and very frustrating article about the Ministry’s new redistribution of funding. It might not have been that bad if it wasn’t explicitly clear about how the decision could affect the school’s public funds and how many officials thought Hogwarts could survive without their help. No wonder Dumbledore told everyone to ignore the papers that morning! Severus could feel the vein in his forehead throbbing, and his unborn child thumped him in the liver in response.

He was about to flip over to the editorials to see what normal people had to say about this when there was a hard rap on his door. Severus looked up with a quirk in his dark brow, wondering who could possibly be so eager to see him at this rather early hour. “Yes?” he said, throwing his voice over to penetrate the hard wood.

Before Severus could blink, the door swung upon, and Rose rushed in. She quickly turned and slammed the door behind her, leaning her back against it to keep it closed. Severus noticed the flushed color in her cheeks, and the almost desperate way her hands pawed at the flat surface of the door. Her eyes were slits as she blew out light breaths, staring longingly at the wizard across the room.

“Rose, what’s the matter?” Severus asked carefully, not that sure exactly what he was seeing in his girlfriend.

“Nothing,” said Rose, her voice low and tinged with lust. “How are you today, my love?”

“Just fine,” said Severus. He gripped the arms of his chair to hoist himself up, and a hand went to his back to support the weight in front. “Not to say that I’m surprised, but what brings you here so early in the day? Didn’t you say that you have a Charms exam to study for?”

“I had a dream about you last night,” Rose crooned. Severus caught the little twitch in her brow, and the smile that was tugging at her lips. He realized that he knew this look very well, and Severus suddenly started to feel a certain excitement beginning to bubble up.

“You did, did you?” he inquired with a smirk, his tone dipping down to his lower register. He crossed the office to take Rose in his arms. “And what did I do in this dream?”

“We were making love on the beach, and you shagged me senseless.” Rose reached her arms up to hang off Severus’s neck, allowing her lover to straddle her waist. She could hear Severus humming into her ear when he went in to kiss her neck.

“Oh, now that’s a nice idea for a holiday,” he said, his words oozing with sex appeal that made Rose’s body shudder.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it all morning, and I can’t take it anymore,” said Rose, gripping at Severus’s robes. “I need you, Severus!”

“Right now?” Severus asked as he pulled away. “Rosie, it’s not even midday. Can’t this wait until later?”

“No Sev,” Rose gasped softly. “I really want you to make love to me, really quick. Please Sev, I’m going out of my mind, and my friends are starting to comment on how antsy I am. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Well of course he wouldn’t regret it! For a brief moment, Severus’s own libido battled with his common sense. But the absurdity of Rose’s request seemed to fade with each passing second. It wasn’t that ludicrous for them to step outside their usual sexual practices; some might even call it adventurous. Severus couldn’t exactly call himself the most daring of wizards as far as making love was concerned, but it might be interesting to challenge his younger lover to a little game of beat-the-clock.

“Shall we adjourn to my quarters?” he asked, a cock in his brow putting his eagerness on display for Rose to see.

“Oh no, right here’s fine,” said Rose, and she came up to devour him in a kiss. Severus barely had enough time to consider the idea. And thankfully, he had just enough sense to bolt the door and mutter a quick wandless charm in between breaths to make sure intruders were kept far away, and that no one could hear from the outside in.

Rose turned to stray into the center of the room, pulling Severus along with her. She let go of the Potions master’s neck and she grabbed her wand out of her robe. Panting, she pointed the ebony wood at her lover and muttered a breathless spell. Severus instantly felt the heaviness of his baby-bump lift away, the beauty that was the Feather-weight Charm.

“Thought that would make things a little easier,” muttered Rose, and she tossed her wand to the side. She then lunged forward and threw herself behind another aggressive snog. Severus snogged back voraciously, spurred on by Rose’s passionate lust. He could feel himself becoming more and more aroused as they battled to win ultimate dominance, and both nearly choked on each other’s tongues. When Severus suddenly felt Rose’s right leg kick up his side and wrap around his lower body, all of his desires rushed to his very core, and they came exploding out him in a rush of adrenaline. Without even thinking, Severus got his hand underneath Rose’s body, and he lifted her off the floor just high enough to carry her across his office, still wrestling against her greedy mouth. He hastily shoved aside his morning paper – along with most everything else on his desk – and he set Rose down on the surface.

Rose broke their kiss for a short moment, but only to reach down and unbutton her Slytherin lover’s trousers. Severus meanwhile slipped his hands under the hem of Rose’s uniform skirt, and he pulled down her tights and her knickers in one good jerk. He paused for a moment, giving himself a chance to catch his breath. Rose gave his belly a soft rub before turning her chin up to gnaw at Severus’s neck. Fed up with her bits of foreplay, Severus pushed Rose’s torso down, laying her flat out on the desk, and he planted his feet firmly on the floor before he entered her.

Severus kept his eyes closed much of the time, but it certainly sounded like Rose was enjoying herself. Her panting and grunting were ceaseless as she was pushed back and forth across Severus’s desk, hands reaching for anything she could get ahold of. In doing so, she knocked over much of what was left around her body.

“Ugh, yes, _yes!!_ Right there, Sev!” she exclaimed, and Severus gripped her hips tightly. His own winded grunts coaxed a breathy laugh out of Rose. Severus thrust into her faster, the high of the moment rapidly approaching. The cry that tore out of Rose at her climax rang through Severus’s ears, and he stepped back from the desk with a gasp of his own. He felt terribly triumphant as he looked down at the girl, sprawled out on his desk amongst books and papers, her sweat-glazed face spelling out her satisfaction.

“Feel better now?” asked Severus as he refastened his trousers and straightened his frock coat.

“Much,” Rose puffed, unsteadily propping herself up with her arms. She reached a hand down to pull her undergarments back up before closing her legs again. “Crikey Sev, that was amazing!”

“So that was enough then. I rather thought I could do better if we had a bit more time.”

“Nonsense,” said Rose. She slid off Severus’s desk to let the wizard rearrange his belongings with a few simple charms. “That was exactly what I needed. It’s no wonder why I love you so much.”

Severus tugged a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and handed it to Rose to dab the perspiration from her forehead. “I love you too, dear. Just don’t go pulling stunts like that again. Exciting though that was, it was beyond risky.”

“No one can hear us out there, could they?” Rose said with slight tension. Severus shook his head. “Not this time, but we cannot count on spells every single time, wherever our backs may land. We have more time for audacious love-making when we’re away from this castle.”

“If you say so,” said Rose. “But I’m only human. I’m as sexual as anyone else in this ruddy castle, and I can’t control my impulses any more than you can.”

“Well,” Severus began with a cocked brow. “I cannot come find you in Gryffindor tower every single time I feel randy – which by the way is rather often. I prefer to wait until we’re safe and locked away together.” The Potions master approached the young witch, and he brushed strands of red hair from her face. “I find that the wait only makes me want you more.”

“Oh goodness,” Rose cheeped with a grin. “We are so going at it again tonight.”

Severus laughed under his breath. “Oh yes…” he crooned. “You keep your head for a few more hours, and then perhaps you could tell me more about that dream of yours.”

The secret couple kissed one last time, and then Severus sent Rose on her way. Sighing his own satisfaction, and tired out from his quick bout of exercise, Severus eased back down into his chair and went back to the _Prophet’s_ editorial pages. He was pleased that the residual frustration had gone, and Severus smirked to himself. If there was anything that could cancel out Ministry aggravation, it was a surprise morning shag.

**~HP~**

The following morning, the midwinter monotony that everyone had come to expected was broken the moment the first copy of the _Prophet_ landed on a table, and people saw the blaring cover headline in bold, black lettering.

**_ Death Eaters escape from Azkaban  _ **

_Yes folks, you read it right! In a startling turn of events, three convicted Death Eaters, each of whom serving life sentences for their crimes against wizard kind, broke out of Azkaban Prison late last night. In an early morning press conference, Mister Warwick J. Crumbly, the prison’s warden, stated that the fugitive prisoners have been identified as Eugene Crabbe, age 40, Alford Nott, 39, and Thorfinn Rowle, 43. According to reports, the escape occurred when select prisoners were allowed out of their cells for part of the evening. Eyewitnesses say that Rowle and Nott overpowered the guards who were on duty, allowing Crabbe to steal one of their wands, which he used to blast a hole into the wall of the mess hall. Despite attempts to restrain them, they got away through that improvised exit, and they Apparated away from the scene soon after._

_Minister Shaklebolt was informed of the breakout within moments of its occurrence, and his office tells our reporters that the Muggle Prime Minister has too been informed of the present danger. In a joint statement with Head Auror John Dawlish, the Minister said, “It is the priority of the Ministry and the Auror office to ensure the safety of our people, and we announce that Aurors have already been dispatched to see that these felons are recaptured as soon as possible, and sent back to Azkaban, where they will be reclassified as high security prisoners, never to step outside their cells again.”_

_When asked why there were so few guards on duty at the time, Mister Crumbly explained that the breakout came at a time when a number of outgoing prisoners were being released, which along with the late hour drew attention away from the other inmates. A shortage of personnel was also blamed for the incident. “I speak for all of my colleagues when I say that it was shameful that this happened,” Crumbly stated. “It is not often that we find ourselves short-staffed, and these inmates blatantly took advantage of those rare instances.”_

_While both Azkaban and the Ministry assures that the escaped inmates were not considered to be the highest priority in their security detail, there is still a concern over the more dangerous fugitive Death Eaters who have yet to be apprehended, most notably Rabastan Lestrange, brother of the incarcerated Rodolphus Lestrange. Some speculate that the followers of He-who-has-been-defeated may have a rallying spot at which they use to congregate, and that the recent escapees might have gone there. These theories however have never been confirmed._

_“I don’t bloody know where any of them have gone!” said Lucius Malfoy, the former Death Eater who received a full Ministry pardon after his desertion of the ranks. Mister Malfoy, 45, was approached as he was exiting a pub at sunrise, and appearing quite inebriated to our reporters, he stated that he had no further comment on the potential whereabouts of his former associates._

_The public is warned that the fugitives should be considered armed and dangerous, and are urged to immediately contact the Aurors’ office with any information leading to an arrest._

Harry could feel his teeth grinding as he finished reading the article, and beside him, Ron’s fist was nearly shaking on the tabletop. As two young men who would soon be Aurors in training, there were no tangible words that could describe the fury that was coursing through their veins. When the Ministry proclaimed that the world was a safer place without Lord Voldemort in it, this was not what any of them had in mind.

“I knew this would happen,” Ron growled as he gripped his egg-caked fork. “With all the people who’ve been imprisoned, those thick bastards should have increased security as soon as they got rid of the Dementors. How could they let something like this happen?”

“There are flaws in every system, Ron,” Hermione grimly said, swirling the pumpkin juice in her goblet. Rose was sitting next to her, vigorously massaging her temples with both hands as her head hung over her own copy of the newspaper. “It’s an appalling thought, but sometimes things have to go wrong in order to improve them. We do learn from our mistakes.”

“Maybe in everyday life, but not when dealing with vicious criminals,” grumbled Harry. He could already feel the headache coming on, and classes hadn’t even started yet. “Ron’s right, there should have been loads more security right from the start. And who the hell were they releasing that they needed that many guards to do it?”

“Well, from what I have heard, it’s a complicated process,” said Hermione. “Each of the outgoing prisoners have to be thoroughly screened, a tracking spell is placed on their person, and then their wands must be registered before they can be given back.”

“Seems pointless to me,” Ron sneered. “Those goons are nothing compared to the Death Eaters, and nearly all of them are locked up. What else do they have to worry about?”

“As long as there Death Eaters on the loose, they have everything to worry about,” said Rose, who was now resting her chin on the knuckles of her folded hands. Her voice was very low, and her eyes were glued to the disparaging headline and the equally disturbing article. “And besides, those goons at one time or another answered to the Death Eaters. We don’t know what they’re capable of.”

Harry cocked his right brow at her across the table. “Well Rose, I’m sure you would be the first to say that if they were really into what Voldemort was doing, they would have become Death Eaters instead of slinking into the background.”

“That doesn’t mean that they’re totally inadequate,” Rose shook her head. “Professor Snape has said to me that Voldemort always had the last say about who joined those ranks, and he did turn people down.”

“Was your father one of them?” asked Harry. The question instantly tightened Rose’s face and fist, and Hermione gave Ron a little twitch of her brow. Ron promptly smacked Harry upside the head. As the Head Boy rubbed the back of his messy scalp, Rose snarled under her breath.

“My father couldn’t have been a Death Eater if he groveled at Voldemort’s feet,” she said. “Not even that demon would have wanted such a ruddy coward working for him. I mean, he spent most of last year hiding from the Death Eaters, how spineless is that? And it’s not like he was ever this spectacular sorcerer. He was in and out of my life for sixteen years, and I never saw him do anything particularly awe-inspiring. Obviously, even Voldemort didn’t have time for a loser like him.”

“Oh, is that so?”

The trio watched as Rose froze at the sound of the sly voice. Her exterior was calm, but her face showed that she was anything but. Her blue eyes widened under a slightly furrowed brow, and her mouth seemed to shrink. To Harry, she looked like she had just heard the words of the Dark One himself. Pawing subtly at the surface of the table, Rose visibly swallowed, and then she turned and looked over her shoulder to where the voice had come from.

The man was tall, causing those around him to tip their heads up to his face. He had thin features with his high cheekbones and defined chin, though he did not appear angular. Not one strand of his brown hair was out of place, and sharp, dark brows shadowed his equally dark eyes. He might have come across as highly attractive if he had not had such a hard stare, which seemed to be permanently etched into his face. The robes he wore were silk-satin, the dark blue fabric tailored exquisitely to his slender frame, particularly the waistcoat that covered his torso. His silver buttons shined even in the early morning light. It was obvious to them that this was an affluent wizard, if not by his attire, then by the portentous way he held himself. His brow arched as he crossed his arms over his well-dressed chest, and he tapped the toe of his boot on the stone floor as he stared down at Rose.

“Oh…my god,” the red-haired witch gasped quietly, still rigid in her seat.

“Huh, is that all?” the wizard scoffed in that smooth, but prickly tone. “Haven’t seen me in three years and all I get is _“Oh my god?”_ Come now, Rosella, where are your manners?” Rose turned back around, and her eyes shut for a moment as she breathed away the tension that was slowly building up in the pit of her stomach. She clenched her hand up under the table.

“Hello Dad.”

The shock was instant among those who were within earshot of Rose’s words. The Seventh year Gryffindors all whipped their heads around with audible gasps, and Hermione had to cover her mouth with the tips of her fingers. The sight of a convicted felon was always bound to bring about a harsh response, but seeing one walking freely and at Hogwarts only served to double it. Alistair Beckett looked over the various states of distressed surprise and chuckled to himself. “I see my daughter has been talking about me,” he said with a sneer before turning his glare once again down to Rose’s turned back. “Is it really such a dreadful shock to see me?”

“I thought you weren’t getting out until April,” muttered Rose, her vocal cords slowly tightening. Alistair cocked his brow again as he nodded. “Yes, it seems that even in Azkaban, good behavior has its virtues. I was released three weeks ago, didn’t they tell you?” Rose just shook her head.

“Hold on, you’re him?” Harry abruptly asked, pointing at the tall wizard behind Rose. Having never met Rose’s father, nor seen his image, it was a little stunning to actually see the stark differences from mental images he had created based on fleeting tales Rose had told. He looked nothing like the caged felon they had many times envisioned. “You’re Alistair Beckett?”

“Ah yes, Harry Potter!” Alistair declared with a nasty grin. “The greatest uniter of meddling fools this world has ever seen. It is such an honor to be in your presence.” His words were straight, but every one of them was laced with venomous contempt. Rose noticed how Hermione reached across the table to steady Ron’s trembling hand, and she could clearly see the irritation behind the lenses of Harry’s glasses.

“Calling my friends meddling fools, are you?” she said. “Nice to see that prison hasn’t worn you down.”

“Yes, and I see you are as irritable as you were the last time I saw you.”

Rose growled in her throat. “You know Dad, I might have been insulted by that if we hadn’t parted on the terms we did. I don’t exactly take being ignored very lightly during a war. And given that you were locked up for the last eight months, I hardly find it appropriate to jump up and down with excitement.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “What makes you think that she would be happy to see you?”

“Thank you Harry, but I don’t need any help.”

“Oh don’t even bother,” sneered Alistair. “I have heard that Potter always was the pugnacious type, always having such trouble keeping his loud mouth shut, especially when it came to defending pathetic little whelps who inevitably stand to lose a fight on their own.” He briefly glanced over the numerous faces at the Gryffindor table before finally coming back to Rose, who was slowly shrinking down onto the surface of the table. “Judging by what I see here, I’d say that hasn’t changed.”

Hermione craned her neck up to the elder Beckett’s face, her wide brown eyes blaring with her heated appall. She might have said something if her jaw had not been so tightly clenched. Across the table, Ron was biting down on his own finger to keep himself quiet, while Harry sat with the same stoic composure he had used a great many times before. He had been insulted by dark wizard scum before, he was used to that. What was making the anger boil in his gut was how that comment seemed to be more directed at Rose than anyone else at the table. If the slick git was calling Rose a pathetic whelp, then he obviously didn’t know his own daughter from a hole in the wall!

Rose drummed her nails on the table for a brief moment before she finally turned her body to look up at Alistair with a bit more confidence. “Alright, look here Dad. I don’t care how you got out of Azkaban, or what you think of my friends. What I want to know is what the hell you’re doing here.”

“I’m here on behalf of my firm to do business with the headmaster,” Alistair explained. “Even ex-felons must earn a living.”

“Even if he doesn’t need to?” Rose challenged. She might not have seen the full luxuries of it, but she knew her father had enough money to his name that he never had to work a day in his life. Alistair however clicked his tongue condescendingly. “Now Rose, I know I have told you that my family’s fortune came from generations of hard work. Although, I can’t say your ignorance surprises me. I wonder if it was that narrow Gryffindor mind or the Muggles’ influence that attributed to your selective memory.”

Rose could not find words to respond, and she did not turn around to see the increasingly angry expressions her friends bore. There was simply no way to describe what she was feeling; the turning in her stomach, the twinge in her chest. Eight months this man sat behind bars, eight months he could have used to think about his past attitudes toward her. He could have seen some of his flaws, and yet even after three years of separation and a prison sentence, he reverted right back to the way he was before Azkaban. The only difference was that now his arrogance was out in the open for everyone to see, and Rose could feel quite a lot of attention being drawn in her direction.

Desperate to divert her eyes away from her father, Rose looked up toward the Head table to make contact with Severus, who was glancing down at them with a long stare. She then turned her gaze down to the stone floor, feeling very little comfort.

Up at the head of the hall, the staff was not taking Alistair’s sudden appearance any better than the students, although their reaction was noticeably more discreet. Sure, there was the general astonishment of a documented convict standing there amongst their students, but for many professors, there was a whole lot more to it than that. Some remembered Alistair as a student, while others remembered him as a former classmate. And in one unique case, he was a fellow follower of the defeated Dark Lord. But no matter how he was looked at, more often than not, Alistair was not remembered for his good qualities.

“He’s a lying, disgusting prat!” Cassandra growled in her throat, alarming many of her colleagues. It was terribly uncharacteristic of her to get so angry. “He completely ruined my best friend’s fourth year! She thought she was lucky enough to date a Seventh year, but then we find out about another girl he had on the side. Turned her off of men for nearly fifteen years. I never met a more despicable man!”

“Oh Cassandra, I am quite sure of the contrary,” chided Pomona. “Although, I can hardly make a better case for that man. He gave me such trouble; stuck up and loud-mouthed the whole seven years! The way Beckett performed in my class, I never would have expected for him to get along as well as he has.”

“I suppose he felt he had those assets to fall back on,” Filius said with an odd bit of sarcasm. “I was at school with his uncle; the whole family has loads of money stashed away. Nasty bunch too, the whole lot of them! It’s almost amazing that young Miss Beckett comes from the same gene pool.”

“It is indeed,” said Minerva, who was drumming the table with her thin fingers. “However, out of respect for my students, I would refrain from using that particular comparison for the time being.” Many of the professors seemed to understand; given that the man had just gotten out of prison, it was unwise to plant those unsavory seeds in Rose’s mind, or anyone else’s for that matter.

“I don’t believe this,” Remus snarled, shaking his head. His hand was clenched up on his thigh under the table. “We thought that Azkaban was having security problems, and now here’s the proof! What kind of an institution can’t keep a prisoner for the full ten months he’s sentenced to?”

“Evidently not a very good one if they pick that pathetic sod to release,” said Severus. His tone was low as he stared across at the wizard standing by his Gryffindor issue. He sounded calm enough, although Remus could sense that he was holding himself back quite a bit, not wanting to call too much attention to his bond with Rose. The DADA professor patted him on the shoulder in a small attempt to comfort.

“Settle down, you two,” Albus said, leaning in his chair toward the two younger wizards. “Mister Beckett’s financial firm is one of the finest in our world, and though we may not like it, we need their help. He needs to take a look at the school to see if anything in our curriculum qualifies for a grant, and I can’t have the lot of you grumbling behind his back.”

Remus swallowed another wolfish snarl, and he sat back in his chair. “He really has some nerve coming here,” he said, nodding to Alistair. “He had connections to Voldemort, and yet he’s already back to work and stepping onto Hogwarts grounds.”

“And he’s talking to her,” muttered Severus, and he nodded his head down to Rose.

“Severus?” Remus arched his brow as he looked at the Potions master beside him. Severus didn’t take his eyes off the father and daughter down the hall, seeing the growing distress in Rose’s eyes even from such a distance.

“If Beckett is genuinely here for work, then he has no real business talking to Rose,” he said.

“Maybe he just wanted to say hello to her,” Cassandra suggested. “Rose has mentioned that they haven’t been in close contact recently.”

“He hasn’t bothered to say hello to her since she was a Fifth year.” Now Severus was also gripping his hand together. “And Rose has shown no interest in communicating with him again.”

“But they’re still family,” said Remus. He was feeling tremendous pressure as he struggled to find the words. “It’s not our place to get involved with that.”

Severus just shook his head at that and he said, “Something’s not right…I can feel it, something is not right with this.”

“Calm yourself, Severus,” Remus said with a hand on the pregnant wizard’s shoulder. “Rose is a big girl; she knows how to handle herself. And it’s not as though she doesn’t know Alistair. She’ll be alright.” But Severus shook his head. He gripped at the robes that covered his concealed bump.

“Look at her, Remus,” he said, nearly a whisper. “Is that the face of a girl brimming with confidence?” Remus had no words as he glanced down at Rose, hunched over in her hesitance. There was nothing he could say that could make either her or Severus feel better without exposing their relationship to the world. Already, he could tell that this was not going to be a good day.

Back at the Gryffindor table, seeing that his daughter didn’t have very much to say to him, Alistair straightened his back and adjusted his waistcoat. “I must be on my way,” he said, giving a short nod in Dumbledore’s direction. He looked back down at Rose. “I expect I should be seeing you again today, Rose.”

“Will you?” asked Rose, sounding as though she dreaded the idea, and looking every bit of it.

“Oh yes,” the former Slytherin nodded, smoothing a hand over his coifed dark hair. “I have quite a bit of work to do here, no doubt giving me plenty of opportunities to witness the fumbling nonsense that somehow managed to defeat a dark lord. I do hope you lot won’t disappoint me, though I don’t believe I can expect much from a ruddy bunch of Gryffindors.”

Rose watched Alistair as he strolled away to make his way up to Dumbledore’s seat, and once he was out of earshot, she turned around to face her friends again. She let out a sound that was somewhere between a forced sigh and an animalistic growl.

“What the fuck?” Ron gasped out, jabbing his finger in the direction of Alistair’s turned back.

“I told you he was an arsehole,” grumbled Rose. She seemed to suddenly wilt after that brief encounter, something that both Hermione and Harry found rather unsettling. “And that was actually him being tame.”

“You’re kidding,” Harry shook his head. “He talks to you like you’re an insipid fool, and you lived with that?”

“He talks to everyone like that, Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if he talked to the Death Eaters like they were beneath him.” Rose pushed away her half covered plate; suddenly, she didn’t have very much appetite.

“But that’s no excuse for you,” said Hermione. “Tame or not, that was unacceptable. No one talks to their own kid like that, especially in front of everyone.” Down the table, Neville voiced his agreement, joined very vocally by Lavender and Parvati. But Rose let out a weak sigh.

“Listen Hermione, I know you’re trying to help, but I really don’t need it,” she said in that uncharacteristically grim voice. “That’s just the way my father is, no matter what anyone says or does. Call me crazy, but I learned to live with that. There’s no use in trying to alter a man’s personality, especially a man as stubborn as him.”

“You know something, Rose?” said Ron, getting the stomach back to return to his breakfast. “You’re giving up too easily. We know that we’re way the hell better than a ruddy bunch of Gryffindors. He’s probably just saying the same rubbish he’s been saying since he was at school.”

“Your point?” asked Rose.

“Maybe this is your chance to prove him wrong.”

Rose stared at Ron for a short moment, her only response to such an idea. She had been trying to prove Alistair wrong for nearly all her life; it didn’t need to be said because her friends knew that already. She had spent her life looking for even a scrap of approval from her father, for anything at all. And try as she may, Rose felt she was no closer to being on equal ground with Alistair than she was when she started at Hogwarts. But no matter what she said to them or what stories she told, Hermione, Ron, and Harry all seemed deeply confident that there was a chance for her, as mad as it sounded. As much as she tried to put experience before optimism, Rose couldn’t stop herself from wondering if they were right to believe those things.

But again, they didn't really know Alistair Beckett.

**~HP~**

As classes got underway, Rose decided to do her best to push her father’s presence at Hogwarts out of her mind. If she focused on that unpleasant fact any more than she had to, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else, and it was definitely not worth losing a few house points over. Besides, she assumed that Dumbledore would keep him busy enough that he would forget completely about her. But just the way it was in so many cases, Murphy’s Law had every intention of screwing Rose over when she least needed it.

The first time was in the middle of the Seventh year Muggle Studies lesson. Alistair strolled right into the room without notice, and in doing so interrupted Professor Wicker’s lecture on Muggle automobiles. The class looked back and noticed that Dumbledore was standing just outside the door, allowing the former Slytherin to work in peace. Rose just resisted the urge to hide her face behind her book, although she wished she had done that when she got a good look at Alistair’s face. Contempt oozed from his slit-like eyes as he stared at the notes on the chalkboard, and then at the middle-aged professor standing at the front of the class. Wicker’s lips were tight, as though she was holding back a few very nasty words. Alistair then turned to look around the room, over the faces of the very small group of students.

“It’s amazing that people still feel the need to take a useless class like this,” he said, tapping the clipboard that he carried. Wicker must have felt compelled to make a good impression because she launched into a lengthy explanation of her subject’s virtues, all of which Rose could recall saying in years gone by. Unsurprisingly, Alistair rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and he made some quick notes for himself and his supervisor. In a last-minute effort to show what her lessons were good for, Wicker pointed to Rose and told Alistair of his daughter’s achievements in the subject, reiterating many of the points she had given during that lesson, and saying that she could make a fantastic career out of what she learned. The sneering wizard however just shook his head. As he scratched out one last note and turned to walk back out into the halls, he uttered, “It’s a soft option.” Wicker watched him leave with a furrowed brow.

Drained of her curbed enthusiasm, Rose had nothing else to say for the remainder of the class.

“He just waltzes on in and insults us all to our faces,” she mumbled to Harry amidst their Transfiguration practical. “He thinks that just because he got off on good behavior that now he can say whatever the hell he wants.”

“Sounds like a typical Slytherin to me,” murmured Harry, listening to Rose with one ear as he attempted to animate a small stone figurine.

“Harry, I’m not sure you get it,” Rose propped herself up on her elbow, watching her own figurine toddle across her desk. “He knows that’s my best subject, and he can’t even publically acknowledge that I’m any good at it, even it was a bald-faced lie to him.”

“I wish I knew what to tell you, Rose. From what you’ve told us, it sounds like your dad is a pretty proud guy, not willing to compromise his values.”

“It was his values that got him into so much trouble in the first place,” Rose grumbled through her teeth. “The least he could have done was to keep his mouth shut and preserve both our dignities. He wants to make a good impression fresh out of prison, doesn’t he?”

Harry sneered. “For all we know, he could be giving people what they expect of him.”

“Doubt it. You said it yourself, Harry. His pride just would not allow that.”

“Mister Potter, Miss Beckett, quiet down over there!” McGonagall suddenly called from the head of the room. “You have time to discuss your business outside of my class.”

“My offspring giving you trouble, Professor?” Rose and Harry jerked their heads around to see Alistair standing in the open doorway, leaning quite leisurely against the ancient stone arch. Rose had to turn away almost immediately to hide her silent groan, as well as the pinkish color creeping into her face. Her little stone figure toddled right off the edge of her desk.

“Ah Mister Beckett,” McGonagall said with a sigh, walking out from behind her desk to meet him. “No, no more trouble than you gave me at her age.” The elderly witch cleared her throat, attracting the attention of her students. “Class, seeing as I have some business to attend to with Mister Beckett here, I must ask that you pack up your belongings and adjourn to the library for the remainder of the period. We shall continue this lesson tomorrow.”

Grasping at an opportunity that came their way too rarely, the class could not have followed orders any faster. Alistair stepped to the side as a flood of Seventh years filed past him. Before he followed, Harry stepped up to McGonagall and asked if he could use the time to get a head start on the Quidditch practice he had scheduled for lunchtime. Feeling a bit generous, McGonagall gave him her permission, and then shooed him and his three friends, who had dutifully lagged behind for him. Harry led the way out of the classroom. But Rose noticed how Alistair glared at her out of the corner of his eye as she walked by, and she felt her pulse increase with frustration.

Hermione decided to retreat to the library as told, leaving the others to head back up to Gryffindor tower. The class period was very nearly over by the time Harry, Ron, and Rose got themselves properly bundled up and made their way out to the snow-covered Quidditch pitch, and they were already high in the air on their brooms when their other teammates began arriving.

Again, Rose tried as best she could to forget about her difficult day. This time however it was for the benefit of not being nailed in the head by an oncoming Bludger. If anything, she used her pent-up stress to improve her game, increasing her flying speed and putting quite a bit more force behind her throws when she tried to get the Quaffle past Ron. She had just scored a goal for herself and Demelza when Dean suddenly shouted out to her and pointed down to the ground.

Three figures were standing at the base of the stands, hard to miss against the white backdrop of the snow. Rose was temporarily blinded by the sunlight’s reflection off the ground, but once the stinging left her eyes, she took another look down. She could make out the unmistakable silhouettes of Dumbledore and McGonagall, and next to them, even from there, Rose could see the dark blue of Alistair’s robes.

Now Rose was angry. The man claimed he was there for work, and yet this was the third time slot where he suddenly appeared to wreak havoc on her day. And in every one of these bouts of pseudo-stalking, he had done nothing but embarrass and undermine her. He could have at least pretended that he was actually working instead of taking every opportunity to get the edge over his belittled Gryffindor offspring, confirming Rose’s fears that he had indeed become a very public version of himself. He was probably sneering at her now, marking aimless notes on that bloody clipboard as he thought about some new insult he could throw at her when she got close enough. In that moment, Rose found herself right back to where she was to those disparaging days before the war.

Years of resentment and painful frustration burning in her stomach, she threw herself completely into the practice match, the only available means of releasing the tension. She could feel the cold air cutting across her face as she flew at top speed, but she felt no pain. She did not hesitate as she rushed in and knocked the Quaffle out of Dean’s arms. And she felt no fear as she plunged toward the earth to catch it, and then hitched her broom back up to chuck it past Ron’s stretched out hand.

She could hear Harry calling out to her as the adrenaline started ebbing away, leaving her a panting mess. Her hearing was a little muffled from the blood that rushed to her ears, but she could definitely make out the shouts about how crazy that move was, and that she should do it more often. Rose felt her confidence start to come back, and in amidst the racing train of thoughts passing through her head, she suddenly remembered what Ron had said to her that morning. If she was going to show her patronizing, overbearing dad what a capable witch she was, that had to be the best chance she had gotten thus far. Alistair might not have many nice things to say, especially where Rose was concerned, but even he would have a hard time ignoring a great Quidditch performance. In spite of herself, she looked down toward the spots on the ground.

He heart dropped when she saw Alistair’s form retreating back towards the castle.

**~HP~**

“You can’t let him do this to you, Rose,” Hermione told her, keeping her voice low enough that it melded with the mumbled chatter going on during their Potions practical. “You’ve been on edge all day long, and it gets worse every time your dad comes into the room. He’s driving you to bedlam, and you’re just allowing it.”

“I can’t help it, Hermione,” said Rose. She carefully gripped her knife as she chopped up some fairy wings for the concoction that she and the Head Girl were collaborating on. Hermione’s brow contorted slightly as she shook her head. “What are you talking about, Rose? Of course you can. You don’t have to let your dad barge in on your business and make you uncomfortable. You certainly don’t have to let him talk to you the way that he does. I honestly don’t care how long he’s been that way, and with whom. As a friend, just seeing how one day has affected you even after so long, I have to say that enough is enough.”

“What would you have me do?” asked Rose.

Hermione let out a short sigh, looking away from their bubbling cauldron. “Well…if it were me, I would cut off all contact with your dad. Don’t give him that satisfaction of speaking to him again in person or in writing. It would certainly be better for your mental health that way, I would reckon.”

“I wish it were that simple.” Rose tipped her feet back to fall onto the seat of her stool, and her unsteady hand paused its chopping motion. Up until that morning, Rose thought that she would be content to do exactly that. But Alistair just had this way of reeling her back in every time she was ready to give up on their almost non-existent relationship. Rose felt like such a fool, hoping she might do something to impress a man she knew would always ignore her achievements. More than that, she felt guilty that she was dragging her friends down with her for something that they should have nothing to do with. The worst part was how powerless she felt to stop it. She was going around in circles, and there was nothing that could pull her out

She was about to fish an octopus tentacle out of a jar of murky liquid when she suddenly heard a throat clear ahead of her. Rose looked up with leery blue eyes and noticed Severus standing straight-backed behind his desk. He was staring at her with what many would see as an empty glare, but ever privy to his subtle emotions, Rose could see some amount of concern in those deep, black pools. He brought up a pale hand, and he motioned for her to come closer.

“Miss Beckett,” he said, speaking with a distinct drone that would not betray any amount of feeling. “Step forward, if you don’t mind.”

Rose glanced to the side, and Hermione sighed softly before nodding her consent. She stepped out from behind her desk, ignoring the curious stares of her classmates, and she silently walked up toward her professor’s desk. “Yes sir?” she muttered.

“Is there something that you need to discuss?” he asked. “I’m sure I am not the only one to think that your and Granger’s little whispers are starting to become quite annoying.”

It took mere seconds for Rose to see the question for what it actually was. Having not spoken to Severus since the night before, all she really wanted now was to run to the Potions master’s aid and protection. She didn’t even consider her surroundings as she nodded her head; it was not unusual for a professor to talk a student off the edge if they were in visible distress. Severus told her to step into his office.

Rose caught the various stares she attracted as she walked slowly to the open door at the far side of the room; she saw Ron’s curiously arched eyebrow, and she saw the suspicious glares of Malfoy and Parkinson. But Rose ignored them all. Boldly turning away from her classmates, she entered the Potions office with Severus right behind her. Once he had closed the door and cast a wordless Silencing Charm on it, with a quick _Muffliato_ for good measure, Severus turned to the young Gryffindor leaning against the wall.

“You realize that if you continue on like this, I will be forced to send you away for the safety of your classmates,” he told her. “You’re so anxious that you’re having trouble concentrating, and I can’t have you working in that condition. Otherwise, we’ll have a repeat of Potter’s last little mistake.”

“It’s not my fault,” said Rose, swallowing with difficulty. She just resisted the urge to ram her head against the hard stone she rested on. “I can’t escape him, Severus. Every time I turn around, there he is!”

“Easy love,” said Severus as he stepped forward to stroke Rose’s cheek. “You’re letting your father get the better of you. The day is almost over, and hopefully he’ll be leaving soon. You just have to try and ignore him until then.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried that?” Rose almost whimpered. “I wish I could forget that he exists, but he won’t let me! Every time he comes around, he’s got to say something. Not only that, but he has to say something that patronizes me! It’s like he came here just to drive me mad!”

“I can’t say that I didn’t expect that,” said Severus. “But Rose, you know he’s like that. You cannot simply let him criticize you before your peers.”

“Well, what do you want me to say to him? I couldn’t stop him before he got locked up, what’s stopping him now?”

Severus let out a deep sigh. “Rose, I love you, but that is a pathetic excuse. You know you could put an end to it if you stood up for yourself.”

“I’ve been trying to do that for fifteen years. Severus, you have no idea how hard I’ve tried to change his mind, telling him about what I can do in this world. I’ve told him about my potions performance, and my work with charms. But he disregards it, all of it.  I’m sorry Sev, but I’m getting to the point where I’m not sure if there’s anything else I can do.”

Rose stepped away from the wall, and she stepped away towards the small window, out of her lover’s reach. Severus felt that sickening feeling in his gut at seeing just how well Alistair had trained his daughter. He didn’t even have to be in the room to play her like an Irish fiddle. Severus knew tensions were high between the Beckett pair, but he never imagined it was this bad. He never thought that his Rosie would allow herself to be emotionally abused.

“But why do you keep trying?” he asked, coming up behind her. He gently rested a hand on her shoulder. “If there’s nothing else you can do, why bother at all?”

Rose looked down at the pale hand briefly before reaching up to cover it with her own. “Because too many of my friends assured me that it would get better. I suppose the child in me wants to believe them.”

_‘Times when I’m reminded of how young you are…’_ Severus thought to himself. He turned Rose around to better face him, and he wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer to his side. Rose leaned into the embrace, her hands gravitating toward his abdomen. They both felt the movements of the unborn child through the charms that concealed Severus’s bulging stomach.

“Why does it matter so much to you?” asked the solemn Potions master. “You don’t need his approval, you never have. Why do you try so hard for it?”

“Everyone wants their parent to be proud of them,” said Rose. “I just want to do something that he wouldn’t be ashamed of.” She hugged Severus tighter. Severus returned the embrace, wishing that there was something more he could do.

“It’s only a few more hours,” he told her, unable to come up with anything else. Rose glanced up at him with a weak smile, but it did nothing to convince Severus that she was feeling any better about herself.

Just as the two of them stepped back into the classroom of slightly bewildered students, there was a short knock on the main door. Severus sent Rose back to her workstation as he went over to answer it. Dumbledore walked in with an expression ever so professional, and he clapped Severus on the shoulder. “Severus, would you mind if I had a quick word with you?” he asked. Snape nodded his head and directed the elderly wizard to the open door. They stepped out into the dungeon halls. Though the class tried to focus on their bubbling cauldrons and each other, many forgot that they had work to do when they heard their professors’ voices echoing in from just outside the door.

“No,” came Snape’s voice. “No, he cannot come into my class.”

“Mister Beckett needs to observe a little bit of everyone’s classes,” Dumbledore explained. “It will only take a few moments.”

“Well, he can’t come now. My Seventh years are in the middle of a very complex potion, and I can’t afford to have them get distracted.”

_‘Too late for that, love,’_ thought Rose, glancing about at the varying degrees of distraction around her. She also caught the subtle lie that Severus gave; this potion required two sets of hands, but it wasn’t really that difficult. What was he up to?

Dumbledore continued. “Severus, I understand that you and Mister Beckett don’t get on very well, but remember what I told you at breakfast.”

“I do, but the answer is still no.”

“Now Severus, wouldn’t you like for him to see your students at their finest?”

“Trust me Headmaster, my finest are not in that room right now.”

“But what about –,”

“Two or three students are not a very good example. He would be better off sitting in on Hagrid’s Third years than this one.”

“But he really does need this, Severus. He needs the full observation to qualify us for a grant.”

“If that is really the case, then he can come down next class and observe the Third year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class. And by the way, I spoke with Pomona earlier. I suppose this observation will also include an inspection of my inventory, will it not?”

“Indeed, it will. It is part of our budget, after all.”

They heard Snape let out a half-growled sigh. “Great, like I need him to see the half-empty jars of Fluxweed and Re’em’s blood. Look Albus, I remember Beckett when we were students. He dropped my subject after he sat for his O.W.L.s. He has no idea what the students in that room have to do every day, and I believe that would affect our performance.” There was a long silence on the other side of the door before the kids heard Dumbledore speak again.

“Very well, I will go back and tell him to come down in an hour or so. However, I don’t want you trying to get out of this again. Student error might affect our chances, but a locked classroom door would affect them more.” A few students managed to get a short giggle out before Snape stepped back into the room.

“Get back to work,” he sneered, and he stalked down the center of the room to return to his lookout point behind his desk, but not before shooting Rose a quick glance. A small smile and glimmering eyes showed him that she knew what he really just did, and that she thanked him for blocking her father from intruding on her again.

**~HP~**

The sun soon slunk behind the mountains, and Alistair completed his inspection of the school. He sat in on two more classes, listened to what professors had to say, and poked around a certain Potions master’s stockroom. In the end, while there were some things that he wasn’t overly pleased with, there was enough to inform Dumbledore that his superiors would likely agree to temporary, partial school funding. But in the process of coming about that decision, he left a trail of slime and aggravation that stretched beyond Rose.

“He thought he could just barge right in and say whatever he wanted to Professor Trelawney,” Lavender vented animatedly over their dinner. “He probably never took one day of Divination in his life, and he talked like he was the authority on it.”

“Tell me about it,” Seamus bemoaned. “I don’t even want to know what he was saying about us out on the Quidditch pitch. I tell you, it’s guys like that which make going on the dole even worse.”

“Hey guys, we’re not going broke here,” Harry jumped in. “Dumbledore says that we’re just applying for a grant until the Ministry can get its act and funds together.”

“It’s still rubbish that they have to put it into the hands of a slick git like that,” said Seamus, and Dean nodded. “It’s almost like he doesn’t remember that he just got out of prison.”

“I suppose the high and mighty have a hard time seeing that they’ve fallen,” the Head Boy mused aloud.

Rose wasn’t listening to anything her housemates were saying. At the moment, she was just too distracted by her father, who was standing beside the Great hall’s massive doors, still scribbling on his clipboard. After Potions class, Rose had decided her best option was to feign illness and skip Divination, escaping to the quiet privacy of her dormitory. And apparently it was a good call because she avoided another mid-class encounter. But in the time she spent alone, Rose got to thinking.

She thought about what Severus had said to her, and Hermione before him. Even after so long, Alistair was beating her up mentally, and she was letting it happen. Having him around had thrown her for a loop, which was something she couldn’t cope with. But Rose was not a coward. She had stared death in the face when Alistair could not. What was it about this that had her running to her room, swallowing every last painful emotion?

Hermione was right to say that this was not a relationship worth continuing, but Rose couldn’t end it so easily. She couldn’t take the drastic measure of cutting someone out of her life without having the last word. And even then, it was an action she almost never took. The truth be told, if Rose were to cut her father out of her life, she would have done it already, before Azkaban. This man was a complete prat, but he had done his part to support her financially. And though real life sought to kill it, Rose’s inner child still longed for her daddy, a love she barely knew. Alistair was her only blood connection to this magical world, and she wanted to feel that connection. Even now, a jaded young woman with every reason to hate him, Rose still wanted something better with her father. And at this low point in their lives, she had the sense that it was now or never.

Silently, she got up from the Gryffindor table, and she slowly walked down the hall as her friends and acquaintances followed her with their eyes.

Alistair didn’t look up as Rose approached him. He just kept his eyes on his sheets of parchment, his eyes shaded by his furrowed brow. Rose felt a certain sensation inside, and she looked back to see that Severus was watching her from the Head table. Feeling a little more confident knowing that she had his support and protection, she turned back and took a deep breath as she shifted her feet nervously.

“So…been busy here?” she asked, unsure if it was a good place to start. Alistair’s hand stopped at the sound of her voice, and his eyes travel up to glance at her over the edge of his clipboard.

“I have seen worse days,” he said in a dreary sort of tone. A small shiver suddenly went down Rose’s spine; that was the tone he often used in his London flat when she was younger. “I confess it has been some time since I have observed a client on such a broad scale.”

“I see,” nodded Rose. “And it went well, I take it?”

“I have seen worse of that too,” said Alistair. “However, I have felt that this place has been in decline since I left twenty years ago, and after today, I would say that I was right.”

Rose brushed off the insult to Hogwarts, choosing instead to say, “Was it enough to earn a grant?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that, can I Rose?” Alistair pulled out his wand and shrunk his clipboard down to the size of a Muggle credit card, and he stowed them both away in his fine linen robes. “My business is not the business of anyone it doesn’t concern.”

But it did concern her, Rose thought. It after all was her education that was being affected by these budget problems. She briefly wondered if Alistair was getting a great kick out of being in control of that, as well as everything else going on at Hogwarts if Harry was to be believed. But that thought led to another thought, and Rose pumped up her house-celebrated courage.

“Did you see much of our Quidditch practice?”

Alistair cocked his eyebrow at her. “I did. The headmaster tells me that Gryffindor is on track to the finals, is this true?”

“I believe so,” said Rose, almost on the tips of her Mary-Jane clad toes.

“Well, I will be amazed if you get that far with that disjointed ruckus Potter calls strategy.” Rose wilted back again as Alistair continued speaking. “I have never seen a more disorganized team since Hufflepuff’s team when I was a Sixth year.”

“At least my house doesn’t need to cheat,” said Rose, a little more force in her tone. She tightened her hands behind her back as she said, “Did you manage to catch any of my moves up there?” Again, Alistair arched a lazy brow, his lips forming a smug half-smirk.

“I did not.”

Rose promptly felt like she had been punched in the gut. “But – but you were right there,” she stammered, clinging to control. “You had to have seen something while you were out there.”

“If it escaped you, I was trying to work. I had more important things to focus on than mediocre Quidditch plays.”

“Mediocre…” Fury started to burn in Rose’s stomach, and her clenched hands dropped to her side. “I could have slammed myself into the ground, and you call it mediocre?!”

“I can tell it is just by the fact that you admit to your recklessness, like it was some petty form of sacrifice. If there is one thing more annoying than your ignorance, it is your arrogance.”

From his seat, Severus could see Rose’s hands and body tensing up. Though he had not said it to her directly, he knew that no good would come to Rose in actually talking to her father, and he thought she had made a big mistake the moment she got off that bench. But she was already in the fray, and there was virtually nothing he could do. It had been a long time since Severus felt so helpless, and he gripped his utensils as he thought of possible ways to interfere. A shake of Remus’s head reconfirmed the truth; the only one who could stop this was Rose.

“She’s got to stand up to him, Severus,” said the DADA professor. Through the course of the day, over quiet cups of tea in Remus’s office, Severus had discreetly told his comrade of the deep troubles Rose had with Alistair, and while they were unsettling to say the least, the lycanthrope was quite sure of Rose’s personal strength. “She’s come far enough with Alistair hanging over her head; it has to end.”

Severus wanted to agree, but the gravity of the situation prevented it. Rose was acting on a dying childhood hope, not a desire for confidence or triumph. Nothing but harm could come from this, and he wanted to step in before his beloved could be hurt beyond repair. Remus urged Severus to calm down, patting his arm gently. Severus’s pulse started to quicken as he continued to survey the father and daughter across the hall, concentrating painfully in an attempt to hear them over the noise of voices.

Rose huffed audibly, and she flexed her fingers to distract them from the handle of her wand. “You should know, Dad, that my recklessness helped win my house a game back in November. Of course, I didn’t see the need to write and tell you about my broken ankle and dislocated shoulder. I suppose I had that coming, didn’t I?”

“You could say that,” replied Alistair, nodding his head sarcastically. “Anyone who puts themselves into any position has no one to blame but themselves for the consequences.”

“Look who’s talking,” Rose sneered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Alistair reacted instantly to his daughter’s snide, backhanded comment, and suddenly, the casualness of the conversation was over. He puffed up his chest, and he clenched his hands together.

“Look here, Missy,” he hissed, pointing his finger directly between Rose’s eyes. “They can’t prove any of the rubbish I was accused of in that shit sham of a trial. They convicted me solely on the basis of probable cause fueled by a desire to catch everyone the Death Eaters ever spoke to. The fact that I was imprisoned for as long as I was shows there is a gross abuse of justice in our Ministry, and anyone who believes otherwise is a complete fool.”

“Does that include me?” dared Rose, glaring past her father’s finger into his dark brown eyes. Alistair paused for a brief moment, and he straightened his back as he uttered, “Your history has shown your tendencies to believe whatever you want, even if that means disregarding the truth.” He stepped forward, his robes brushing past Rose’s side as he started back up the hall to have a last word with Dumbledore.

Rose stood still, feeling that comment shoot her straight through her Muggle-loving soul. She couldn’t believe the loathing bastard still carried those foul sentiments, even after they could have cost him life and limb, and even after losing nearly a year for them. And the fact that he was still willing to look down on her for her own beliefs was the last straw. Rose felt her ribs cracking as her heart exploded with rage.

“Hold on!” she barked. She quickly turned on her heel and rushed to catch up with Alistair, stopping him in the middle of the hall. “Who are you to say that I disregard the truth?! In case you haven’t noticed, what is the truth to you has been long since refuted, and what you preach is nonsense.”

Alistair stood there for barely a second before he tipped his head back and laughed. The harsh cackle sent shivers up the spines of many, not least of all Rose, who suddenly heard their familial similarity loud and clear. “Sweet Merlin, do they have you trained up!” Alistair gasped. He slowly turned to face the young irate witch. “Your naivety has blinded you from seeing how worthless Muggles are, and just as so, working with them is a waste of a good Wizarding life.”

Rose forced out a hot breath through her nose. “I happen to take a lot of pride in how open-minded I am, and I have my mother to thank for that.”

“That bitch forced you into unjust tolerance, her and her family. They drove you into believing you had to take pity on them, and they robbed you of your chances to succeed in our practices.” Alistair started to turn away again.

“You blind bastard!” cried Rose. Alistair turned back to glare at the deeply angered expression the young witch bore. “You intruded on me three times today; you saw what I can do with magic! If you don’t believe that, then go and have a look at my school records. You’ll have more than enough proof then!”

“If what I saw today was any indication,” said Alistair. “I daresay that I wouldn’t be terribly impressed by your records.”

“Oh yeah?!” asked Rose, her voice hitching up. “An O on my Potions O.W.L. exam isn’t impressive? Or an E in Transfiguration and Charms?! I’ve worked my arse off to get to where I am now, and you talk about it like it’s nothing!”

Alistair’s dark eyes flared as he glared down at the young witch, and his jaw tightened to grind his teeth together. “What do you want me to say, Rose? That you are the greatest thing to happen to the Wizarding world since Merlin himself? I would never say such a preposterous thing!”

“You should!” Rose barked, and Alistair just stopped himself from smacking her across the face.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I should say!” he growled. “I’ll have you know that many have fancied themselves such a grand stature, and all of them were grievously wrong, including you. You are nothing more than a face in the crowds.”

“I’m better than you were.”

There were some low, eager noises from the students who had been eavesdropping, unable to resist a reaction to such an affronting statement. Many of them were among Rose’s own house, keen to show their support for their struggling fellow Gryffindor. And up at the Head table, teachers nodded their heads affirmatively. Rose felt the rush of support, but she felt her insides turn to ice when she saw Alistair’s hard, furious face.

“Whoever told you that is lying to you,” the wizard snarled. “You have never been greater than me at anything, and you still are no greater than me.”

“But why?” asked Rose, now feeling the distinct burn in her eyes, which she blinked away. The knot in her throat constricted her vocal cords, straining her words slightly. Alistair again attempted to turn away with a snobbish, “I don’t need this.”

“No!” Rose shouted, and she rushed forward to grab her father’s robe. “I’ve had enough of you beating around bushes and running off on me! Be a man already, look me in the eye, and tell me!”

Fists clenched tightly, Alistair gnashed his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, brat.”

“Bloody hell, Dad! Why?! Why do you ignore every damn thing I –?”

“Because your work is inferior!”

Gasps echoed around the Great hall, and all chatter died down. People turned their shocked faces toward Rose, whose eyes and mouth were both wide. The Gryffindor just managed an exhale as she shook her head at Alistair. “What?” she gasped.

“You heard me,” said Alistair, pointing his finger at her face again. “Your work is inferior, and _you_ are inferior, because it isn’t what you have, but what you lack. No matter what those insolent fools tell you, a ruddy half-blood like you could never achieve the greatness of the pure.”

Robbed of mind and breath, Rose struggled to find the words. “But – but I’m –,”

“An unfortunate mishap of genetics that tainted a good family name. Even you must realize that by now.”

“I might,” said Rose. “But blood does not determine skill or greatness.”

“If that is true, then why are you not excelling in all of your subjects?” Alistair caught the laugh in his throat. “Spoken like a true Muggle-loving bitch.”

Remus had to leap up and catch Severus’s shoulders, forcing the now livid Potions master back down into his seat. Black eyes burned with anger unlike any Remus had ever seen this side of Voldemort’s war. If the werewolf had not acted so quickly, it was likely that Severus would have already attempted to go over the table.

“Cool it, mate,” he tried to say in as low a voice as possible. So near to other professors, and within earshot of Albus (who at the moment was watching Alistair and Rose in a stoic stillness), Remus couldn’t afford to be overheard even as he fought to keep Severus in his chair.

“I’m gonna tear him apart,” Severus growled deep in his throat, though it was loud enough that only Remus could hear. His knuckles were white on the surface of the table, and the vein in his temple pulsated with every barely controlled breath. “Let me at him, Remus.”

“Severus, you’ve got to calm down,” said Remus. “I know, I want to get at him too. But it would be unwise to strangle Beckett in front a few hundred people. You don’t want to have the baby in prison, do you?” On Severus’s other side, Cassandra was rubbing his tense forearms, completely bypassing the Potions master’s personal space, murmuring little comforts to him.

“He can’t do this,” Severus whispered. “I won’t let him.”

“I know, we’ll get our chance,” assured Remus. “Just hang in there for a little longer.” Realizing how backed into a corner he was, Severus pulled back, but he still could not take his eyes off the increasingly distraught look on Rose’s face, wanting so desperately to come to her aid, especially when Rose’s searching gaze found him from the center of the hall. It was as though she was silently begging him to help her, and all Severus could do was to sit there with his phony glare.

Rose contorted her face into a mask of inner strength, and she puffed up her chest in a feeble attempt to make herself more intimidating. The desired effect however was diminished when Rose had to turn her chin up to look Alistair in the face. “Alright,” she said. “So I’m half-blood. But answer this for me, Dad. Whose fault was that?”

“I didn’t ask for you,” Alistair scornfully replied. “I never wanted to put out offspring that would defile my family’s noble history. I made a mistake in getting involved with your mother, and now I am forced to live with the consequences.”

Her insides all tied up in knots, Rose was at a loss for words. She looked down at her friends, their faces frozen in their anger and appall. She looked up at the teachers, torn between grave concern and forced discretion. And then she saw Severus, his stone cold glare fixed on them, making no move to get up. In the sea of faces around her, Rose felt like she was drowning, and no one was going to fish her out, not even her own lover. She shook her head as she stared into Alistair’s chiseled, disdainful face.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked despairingly. “All my life, I tried so hard. I tried so hard to give you something to be proud of…and it was never enough for you.”

Alistair stared down at Rose for a long, unbearable moment, but then he took in a deep, hissing breath through his teeth. “It wasn’t enough…” he mused, almost agreeing. “I regret the waste of effort, but when will you get it through your arrogant little mind? There is nothing you can do to impress me! And no, you cannot change my mind! It will _never_ be enough, not _now_ , not _ever_!”

The hall fell completely silent, broken only by the clatter of cutlery hitting plates. Rose backed away from Alistair; the anger she had so loudly displayed was gone, suddenly replaced by a wounded stare. Her brow scrunched up as her rattled breath escaped parted lips. A glimmer appeared in the corner of her eye, and a blink glossed them over. Nearby students watched those eyes well up, and Rose turned before she let a single drop fall. She ran out of the Great hall, shielding her eyes with her hand.

“How weak,” Alistair said to himself before shouting to his retreating offspring. “Run from the truth, why don’t you?! You have your entire life!”

“That’s it!” Harry barked out. He got up from his place on the bench, as did Ron and Hermione. Hermione shot a quick glance at the Head table before taking off after Rose, calling her name. Harry marched up to the former Slytherin to meet his sneering eye.

“What kind of a bastard are you?” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s your kid, for God’s sake!”

“That may be true, Potter, but I will say what I like to her,” said Alistair, coolly. “Being the Chosen One does not grant you the right to control other people’s relationships.”

“You don’t even know what the hell you’re saying to her,” challenged Harry. “She’s an inferior half-blood? She’s one of the best brewers I’ve ever met! She could brew potions that you wouldn’t even be allowed to touch!”

“You must not have very good judgment if you say that,” Alistair shook his head at the Head Boy. “Even you are middling, and people hail you as a savior! If it’s not because you bear the blood of a Muggle-born, I don’t know what it is.”

Harry growled, wagging his clenched fist at his side. Merlin, how so he wanted to slug this guy! But as badly as he wanted to give the slimy git what he deserved, Harry’s loving heart was with his dear hurting friend. So with Rose in mind, he settled on a simple snarl. “You are such a _prick!!_ ” he ground out, and he high-tailed it out of there after the girls.

People there erupted into various roars of objections. Ron pumped himself up as he stepped forward toward Alistair, who was still obviously unmoved. “So, you think you’re a big tough guy,” he jeered. “Well, how about we take this outside, huh?”

“And you are?” asked Alistair, arching his eyebrow sarcastically.

“Your worst nightmare,” said Ron. “You know, I’m pureblooded. I’m a worthy match aren’t I?”

The older wizard snorted. “I can’t fight a pathetic adolescent boy!”

“You wish,” Ron laughed back. “I could take you and your worthless principles any day.”

“Silence!” shouted a shrill Professor McGonagall as she came rushing down from the Head table. “Enough, enough, that is _enough!!_ Weasley, go to your dormitories!” Ron shuddered slightly at the harsh scorn in his Head of House’s voice, and he turned and ran to the door to catch up with Harry. Once he was gone, McGonagall turned back to Alistair, her thin teacher’s finger pointed directly to her former student’s chest.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she scolded, as though Alistair was nothing more than a teenager. “You might not have held my highest opinion, but I would have expected far better from you. Mister Potter was right. Speaking to Rose in that manner was completely unacceptable!”

“I do apologize for my language, Madam Professor,” said Alistair. “But I do not believe in lying. And besides, I cannot speak with respect when I receive none in return. I should not be blamed for my behavior when confronted by impolite teenagers.”

“Well, that behavior is starting to drive out my staff members.” McGonagall pointed up to the Head table. Three chairs to the left of Dumbledore were empty, recently vacated by the school’s three younger teachers. Her point made, McGonagall turned her attention back to Alistair. “And if it is respect that you desire, you should know that we are often only given as much as we deserve. And for that petty little display, you deserve none.”

“She’s not your child.”

“For nine months out of the year, she is,” said McGonagall. “All of my students are my children, as you once were. But I certainly don’t wish for any of my students, Gryffindor or Slytherin, to treat their own children with such a lack of respect. I speak for Headmaster Dumbledore when I say that we have no place for such abominable conduct at Hogwarts, and we both ask that you leave the premises immediately.”

Alistair looked slighted, if only for the loss of business that this would bring about. He took a step back away from the deputy headmistress, shaking his head. “You’re making a mistake.”

“We can take our business elsewhere,” McGonagall told him as she planted her hands on her hips. “Hogwarts got by for over a thousand years without the help of grants, and it wouldn’t make a difference if your superiors chose to deny us. Now go, you’ve overstayed your welcome enough as it is.”

The haughty wizard briefly glanced around the massive room, seeing the hundreds of eyes glaring back at him. He then looked up at his highly respected former headmaster; the soft, but not pleased expression Dumbledore bore was enough to make Alistair shudder. He gave one last huff, straightened his robes, and said, “I will show myself out.” He then turned on his polished heel and made for the door. He deliberately ignored the burst of applause that broke out behind his back as he exited out into the entrance hall.

Alistair stood for a brief moment in the empty space, simply to regain his dignified composure. But just when he was about to leave through the massive front door and walk down to his Apparation point, he heard someone clear their throat sharply. Startled that he wasn’t alone, he whirled around, his wand already in his hand. He however relaxed that when he saw the black figure standing at the corner of the adjoining corridor.

“Well, well,” he said with a sneering smirk. “If it isn’t the martyr hero himself.”

“That’s rich, Beckett,” Severus said as he stepped into the light, his robes sweeping the floor as he went. “You always were the cheeky type. I dearly wish I could remember the number of points our house lost because of your misplaced, misused sarcasm.”

Alistair looked behind the advancing Potions master, now noticing that he was flanked from behind by two others. “Hmm, has wartime infamy warranted the use of bodyguards?”

“Oh hardly,” said Severus, barely glancing over his shoulder. “My colleagues just happened to be as disgusted with that little performance as everyone else. You’ll know Remus Lupin, of course, and I’m not sure if you remember Cassandra Wicker. She was a Hufflepuff, three years behind you.” Alistair rolled his eyes slightly. He did indeed know quite a bit about the famed werewolf hero, which would be expected in that postwar year. But when he pondered his past as to where that Wicker woman’s name had come from (the familiarity had been bothering him all day), he paused when he suddenly remembered the pudgy little brunette Fourth year who threatened to castrate him for two-timing her friend. He quickly shook sense back into himself.

“So they don’t agree with how I handle my daughter,” he said, stowing his wand away. “What’s it to any of them?”

“Funny,” Severus said, cocking his brow. “If I’m correct, that is the first time you have publically acknowledged your daughter in eighteen years.”

“Oh-ho, don’t you start with me, Snape,” said Alistair, jabbing his finger at Severus. “What goes on between me and Rose is no one’s business but ours.”

Severus shook his head, sliding his hands in his pockets. “That is true, Beckett, but you seem to be missing the point. A display that public does not simply go unnoticed, and it hasn’t. And forgive me when I mention that the majority of us have only been hearing Rose’s side of the story for the last few years.”

“Come on, Snape, she’s a child! She’ll complain to the first person who will listen.”

“Is that why you have spent so little time with her?” asked Severus. Alistair flinched slightly; of all the Hogwarts professors, Snape was probably the last he would expect to bring that up. But he recovered with barely a blink, and he straightened his back to his former housemate.

“What could you possibly know about my relationship with my own daughter? If rumor is to be believed, you cannot stand Gryffindors anymore than the rest of us.”

“On the contrary, I have learned to listen to them in recent times,” said Severus. “And I tell you, Rose is a vocal one. Not unlike her father, actually.”

“You would compare a girl like that to me?” Alistair asked, almost like he thought Severus was joking. “What kind of rubbish has she been pushing here? And why would you believe her over your fellow Slytherin?”

“I believe her because I have never known that girl to lie in all the years that she has sat in my class. And I listen to her because I happen to value what she has to say. You have quite a clever girl, Beckett, although I’m sure you know that already.”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed,” he said in a half-sneer. “Potter claims that she’s a half-decent brewer.”

“More than that,” Severus corrected. “She has a natural talent for the craft, one of the best I’ve ever taught. Very rarely do I come across a student whom I could trust with nearly any potion available to us.”

“But that’s just your class,” said Alistair.

“Oh, get off it already, Beckett,” barked Severus, making Alistair step back slightly. “I heard what was said in there. Rose is more than capable in the majority of her subjects, you were told three times today, twice in the last thirty minutes. Are you that ignorant, or are you just going deaf?”

Alistair clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as his fingers itched for his wand. Severus crossed his arms across his chest, and his scowl grew harder and darker. It suddenly occurred to Alistair that the Potions master was not there to continue their boyhood jabs, and anger crept back in when he got an idea why.

“What has she said to you?” he snarled, stepping up to glare Severus in the face. Severus was two or three inches taller than Alistair, causing him to tip his chin up to meet his black eyes. “What has the little bitch said to you about me?”

“Only that you have been an absentee father, and that you disregard her in every way imaginable. Actually, she seems to believe that you are ashamed of her.”

“You would be too if you had a child like that,” said Alistair.

“Because she’s half-blooded?” Severus challenged, and Alistair gave a very short nod. “Well, you have a lot of nerve to put yourself above her. I remember the pitiful little whelp from our school days, all bark but no bite. Your blood may be pure, but the so-called tainted issue you’ve put out has shown many times that her abilities are far superior to yours. By all accounts, you should be proud that your family could turn out such a skilled witch. You should just be proud that you as a father could produce such an accomplished child.”

Alistair bared his teeth fiercely. “I don’t need to be lectured on how I should feel as a father, especially by you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Severus, his tone matching Alistair’s.

“Well, I would say that a reputation like yours disqualifies you as a voice for decency.” Severus glared at Alistair. The slightly younger wizard was holding himself terribly high, attempting to make himself appear more strapping and intimidating. Wasn’t that just the way Alistair always was! He had to make himself more important than he really was, twisting the truth to suit his best interests, disregarding reality to soothe his ego. But it was that reality was would ultimately be his downfall. The pitiful whelp just chose to ignore it.

“At least I wasn’t incarcerated for my foolish actions.”

Alistair growled loudly, and Remus made a move to rush forward. Severus however held up his hand, keeping his wingman at bay. Alistair clenched his hands together, and a vein in his neck throbbed. “You dare say that to me, Snape,” he ground out. “I might have spent the last eight months in Azkaban, but I do not regret the things I did to end up there. I was proud to work for the Dark Lord, and you…you were a traitor. You were a coward who ran here to save himself!”

Now it was Severus’s turn to ball his hands to hard fists. The offense of the word however was dulled slightly by his sheer loathing for Alistair. The little bastard was as indoctrinated as he ever was, merely reiterating all the crap that had been said about him since the war’s end. And not only that, he was trying to deflect the attention off himself. To Severus, there could not have been a better case of a pot meeting a kettle.

“I’m a coward?” he asked. “You walk away from a family you don’t desire anymore, and I’m a coward? You abandon your only child to the hells of the Dark Lord’s regime, and _I’m_ a coward?!”

“She ruined my life!” roared Alistair. “I made one bloody mistake when I was young, and she took away everything that was rightfully mine. I had to fight to regain the respect of my family, and I had to hide that damn marriage to protect my dignity.”

“And while doing so,” said Severus. “You let an innocent girl fall to the wayside.”

“I’m not a deadbeat father,” said Alistair, very firmly. “I’ve made all my payments to my ex-wife. Rose was provided for.”

Severus just shook his head. He slowly began to pace around Alistair, circling him like a wolf ready for the kill. “You are no more a father now than you were the night you tried to skip out on your baby’s birth.”

“Watch it, Snape!”

“You gave up all your rights to Rose when you left her to suffer through a war on her own. When she needed protection and support, where were you? Oh that’s right, you were hiding in your mother’s cellar. Your daughter has seen horrors that you could never imagine because you ran from them. By the end of your days, she could be all you have, and you chose to save yourself. It’s a shame, really. A man like you should long for a daughter like her. She’s quick with a charm, she brews immaculate potions, and she’s not half-bad on a Quidditch pitch. She’s everything that you are not.”

“Shut up!”

“Is that why you cannot look her in the eye and acknowledge her great skill? Is it because you realize what a pathetic sod you are that you have to tear her down? Or are you genuinely appalled by her blood status, the way your family would expect you to be? I know you, Beckett, you are so headstrong. But it’s time to give up the fight.”

“Why are you taking her side?” Alistair snapped, his head following Severus’s encircling motions. “I’m your old classmate. Why are you coming to _her_ defense and not mine?!”

“Because I see so much potential in her, more than you will ever admit to,” said Severus. “I see her becoming far more successful than you ever were, without your name or your money to help her. It is no one’s fault but your own that you don’t see any worth in her. The little girl you once called Rosie has grown into a remarkable woman, and you will never see it.”

Alistair’s hard brow relaxed slightly as his eyes widened with shock. “She told you about that?”

“Oh yes,” said Severus, taking great delight in the younger wizard’s expression. “How tragic it is that a father’s affection can so quickly disappear, before his child even has a proper memory. What’s sadder still is how that father cannot even bring himself to give that child one meager compliment for appearance’s sake. But Rose was lucky. She has a life that she made for herself. And you…you have no place in her life if that is how you will treat her.”

There were almost no words to describe the depths of Alistair’s anger. Of all people who should have seen his plight from his point of view, it should have been a fellow Slytherin. No one else would have had the same contempt for Gryffindor, and yet he was singing his daughter’s praises. It was almost unthinkable that Severus Snape could have such a strong relationship with the girl. Realizing he was not going to get the backup he desired, Alistair racked his brain for a response.

“Rose put you up this, didn’t she?” he said.

Remus and Cassandra noticed Severus’s knuckles go white as he gripped his hand together at his side. There was no detectable emotion in his face, but the glare that radiated from his eyes burned with rage. He stood still, breathing steadily, staring the elder Beckett down. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Severus took in a deep breath.

“You know Beckett, you really are a bastard.”

Severus’s fist hit Alistair right in his well-defined jaw. Knocked off-balance, he toppled backwards onto the stone floor, the back of his head hitting the ground as he fell. He let out a short, almost comical yelp, and he lay there for a short while. Severus just stood over him with his hands in his robe pockets, his sneer so revolting, it was almost innocent. Remus and Cassandra came up to stand on either side of him.

“Feel better?” asked Remus, who was just holding back his amused snigger.

“Much,” said Severus. He actually was beginning to feel some of his stresses lift away like they were nothing. If he had known how therapeutic it could be, he might have punched Alistair’s lights out years ago.

“You know, you really shouldn’t have done that in your condition.”

“Well, what Poppy doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Oh Severus, you have no idea how long I wanted to do that,” Cassandra gasped, brimming with the glee of long-overdue revenge. “Three more seconds, and I would have clobbered him.”

“Sorry that I robbed you of the opportunity,” replied Severus, and he looked down at the wizard before him, who was starting to come back to. Alistair’s hand came up to massage his cheek while the other went to his aching head. He then looked up at the three professors, and Severus said, “Remus, Cassandra, would you be so kind as to show Mister Beckett to the door? I’m sure he can find his way to the gate on his own.”

It was a request that Remus and Cassandra were most eager to fulfill.

**~HP~**

Meanwhile in Gryffindor tower, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were still trying to ease Rose off the emotional ledge. Seeing how distraught she was upon entering their common room, the little group took swift refuge up in Harry and Ron’s private Head Boy dormitory, thus hiding Rose from their overexcited housemates. The last thing Rose needed after such public humiliation was to be crowded by meddlesome kids wanting to show their support.

Seated on his bed, Harry cradled Rose against his shoulder as she wept openly and freely. She had barely stopped since the door closed behind them, and Harry thought it would help if she cried into his shirt instead of his pillow. He carefully rubbed her trembling back as he looked over at Hermione, who was sitting on the bed with them.

“It’s okay, Rose,” he hummed. Rose let out another ragged wail and gripped at his collar. “Shh, it’ll be alright.”

“No it won’t,” croaked Rose, her voice muffled against Harry’s shirt. “All my hard work…all my achievements…for nothing!”

“What are you talking about?” said Hermione, placing her hand on Rose’s arm. “You’ve accomplished so much at Hogwarts, and without anyone’s help.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed from his pacing track across the floor. “Bugger what your dad says. It’s only you that matters.”

“You guys don’t get it, do you?” Rose sniveled. “He’s the only connection I have to the Wizarding world. All I wanted was for him to look at my work – _to look at_ _me_ – and see some worth. But it’s all nothing to him. My life has been nothing more than a joke!” She dissolved into more tears.

“Alright Rose, stop this right now,” commanded Harry, gripping Rose’s arms to get her to look him in the eye. “I cannot – _will not_ allow you to do this to yourself. We all agree that the way your dad treated you was awful, but he’s also _wrong._ Every last thing he said about you was wrong. I don’t care who he thinks he is; he has no right to judge your character so blindly.”

“Harry, he’ll do it anyway. He’s been saying the same shit about my mum and her family for years.”

“But that doesn’t make him anymore right,” said Harry. Rose tilted her head down to hide her eyes, and Harry looked over at Hermione and Ron’s concerned stares. The three of them had been going back and forth with the poor girl for nearly forty minutes, with no real success, and it suddenly occurred that to Harry that maybe, even in the privacy of his dormitory, Rose was still feeling a little harried.

“Hey guys,” he said quietly to his two best friends. “Do you think you could step out for a little bit so I could have a word with Rose alone?” Though they were visible uncertain, both Ron and Hermione nodded, and they left the room, hand in hand. Judging by the sound of their voices coming through the closed door, Harry concluded that they settled themselves down just out on the steps.

Rose wiped the wet trails from her cheeks, and she shifted her body so that she sat on the edge of the bed. Harry pulled his leg up and moved closer. “I’m so sorry,” Rose whispered, inhaling sharply through her nose. “I never wanted to drag your guys into any of this.”

“That’s what friends are for,” said Harry. “Listen Rose, I care about you too damn much to let you go through this on your own. I mean, I knew hell when I was living with my aunt and uncle, but they never said anything like that! How did you live with that for all those years?”

“I don’t know,” mumbled Rose, shaking her head slightly. “I just…I guess I just tried to bite my tongue and wait until it was all over. I mean, it wasn’t like I lived with him fulltime. As I got older, I used to hang onto the hope that he would eventually get over himself and stop…but it never happened.”

“You can’t possibly believe any of that rubbish,” Harry shook his head. Rose however swallowed. “You hear it enough over the course of your life, you can’t help but think about it.”

“Oh no, no, no!” said Harry. He suddenly grasped Rose’s arm. “Do not tell me that you actually buy into that crap, because that’s exactly what it is. Everyone knows that you’re way more than a useless half-blood. I mean, you brew better potions than a lot of the purebloods around here. You’ve got Snape wrapped around your finger, for god’s sake! And I don’t know many Chasers who would do the things you do during a match.”

“It’s not about the praise, Harry,” said Rose, turning her head to her friend, looking past his glasses to get lost in his green eyes. “I just want to hear him say it. I’m never going to get anything from my mother because this isn’t her world. She will never know what I go through in my life, but he does. All I want is to hear my father say that I make him proud, that he’s not ashamed of me or what I do. But we all know that it’s never going to happen.”

“Then he doesn’t deserve to call himself your father,” Harry simply said. Rose’s eyes glossed over again, and her fingers gripped at Harry’s burgundy bed dressings.

“I don’t think he even does that outside these walls.”

Harry instantly wrapped his arms around Rose’s shoulders, and the weeping witch leaned right into the embrace. To Harry, it almost felt like it came naturally to her, like she had been in this position so many times that it was instinctive. The face of Dante Macleod suddenly came to mind, and Harry’s felt his arms tighten around his friend’s body. “You are so much more than that,” he said. “You’re one of the nicest people I know, you’ve done so many great things for yourself and others, and you deserve better than a father who treats you like that. You mean so much to me, Rose, and I never want to see him do this to you again. I swear, if he ever comes near you again, I’ll hex him into next year.”

Rose finally managed a tiny little laugh, and she hugged Harry back. “You really are a good friend. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“The same thing you did to make Snape choose you over Malfoy and Hermione to brew Remus’s Wolfsbane Potion.” Harry rubbed Rose’s shoulders, coaxing a smile out of her. “I’m here for you, Rose. No matter what, I’ll be there to back you up.”

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Ron popped his head back in. “Hey Harry, the guys are starting to head up, and Hermione said we should get Rose out before they can hassle her.”

Harry nodded his agreement, and with a smile and a last pat to Rose’s shoulder, he got to his feet. Ron opened the door to let Hermione back in, and he and Harry went down ahead of the girls to clear the path for them. Silently, Hermione ushered Rose down the steps like she was royalty, all the while ignoring the stares coming out of the dormitory doors on the way down. To their surprise, Lavender stood at the entrance to the girls’ stairway. She explained that she and Parvati had already told off the younger girls, and that they were free to go up unbothered. Hermione nodded her silent thanks, and before they knew it, she and Rose were alone in their room.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Hermione, unsure what she could say that hadn’t been said already. “Somehow, I don’t think chocolate can help this along.”

“I’m not even hungry now,” said Rose. She didn’t move to sit on her bed, or on Hermione’s, or at their vanity, or even right there on the floor. She just stood there in the middle of the room.

“Listen Rose, I wish I knew what to say to you. If there was something I could do to take all of this away, you know I would.”

“Hermione, just save your breath, please,” Rose said, her voice constricting again. Her hands came up to massage her aching temples; the tension headache she was presently experiencing was quickly becoming unbearable. Seeing that her friend was still no closer to calming, Hermione stepped up behind Rose and touched her shoulders. “Come on, Rose. What’s on your mind? The boys aren’t here, tell me everything.” The Head Girl felt Rose’s body tremor with the withered sigh.

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Snape?” Hermione asked tenderly. She was still leery about using the Potions master’s given name, but Rose didn’t seem to mind at the moment. She slowly nodded her head. “He was there the whole time, he saw everything! Why didn’t he say anything?!”

“Rose –,”

“I don’t understand it, Hermione. He hates my father just as much as I do, he’s told me a thousand times! He wouldn’t just sit there and let the bastard do that to me. If he loves me as much as he says, he would have stood up for me!”

“But Rose,” Hermione interjected, turning the other witch around to look her in the tear-stained face. “He couldn’t stand up for you, not unless he wanted to call attention to your relationship. Listen, I don’t doubt that Snape loves you, but when it comes to keeping it secret, to a certain degree, he has to separate himself from you in front of everybody. Besides, he kept your dad from barging in on Potions, remember? He did what he could.”

“He could have done more, instead of letting him plow right over me,” said Rose. In her heart, she felt guilty that she was mad at Severus, but the anger had been festering all night with no means of escape. “I mean, Harry had to fight for me, for crying out loud.”

“But he was there for you,” said Hermione. “I’ve got to tell you Rose, I saw Remus holding him back slightly at the Head table. I have a feeling that if Snape got involved, it would have escalated, which none of us needed.”

Rose sighed again, deeper this time. “I still wish he had said something. My father likes to think he’s tough when it’s us he’s dealing with, but he’s no match for Severus.”

“Be honest,” said Hermione, a reassuring smile tugging at her lips. “What do you think would have happened if Snape got in the middle of you and your dad?”

“He probably would have beaten my dad to a bloody pulp,” said Rose, a small giggle escaping. “He says he’s been wanting to do that for years, way longer than he’s known me.” Hermione beamed back at her, and she pulled her best friend into a hug. It was good that Rose was starting to settle down, and without the need for a Calming Draught. That kind of pain was too much for anyone to bear. But Rose was strong, and in time, Hermione knew, she would find the courage to pull herself out. It had worked when she mourned for Dante Macleod, and thankfully, it worked now.

Alistair Beckett could not have been more wrong when he called his daughter’s tears weak.

“You need to go talk to Snape,” said Hermione, sounding more like she was offering a friendly suggestion. “Once the common room empties, just go straight down there. I won’t wait up for you; if it had been me, all I would want after that verbal abuse would be my boyfriend.” Hermione shuddered slightly, and Rose laughed into her shoulder. She had to give Hermione credit; at least she was trying to talk about her and Severus like they were a couple.

**~HP~**

Just as Hermione commanded, Rose waited in her dormitory until the Head Girl came up and told her that it was all clear. Rose got up from her bed without a word, and with a last gratified smile, she left Hermione in their room, and she crept on the tips of her toes down the steps. She then just as sneakily slipped out of the portrait hole into the halls.

As she made her way down the castle levels toward the dungeons, Rose still felt dispirited. She was physically and emotionally exhausted, she had been drained of all her fervor for life, and she was still angry at the world for what had happened to her, Severus included. Deep down, she knew that Hermione was right, and that Severus had basically had his hands tied behind his back the whole day. But in the face of her father’s viciousness, all she wanted was one word of defense from her older lover, if only to give her the courage to finish it herself. If anything, Rose was mad at herself that she couldn’t defeat Alistair, no one could. No matter how many years went by, it was never going to get better. After a life of struggle and failure, it really was time to give up. But why did giving up have to feel this way, to hurt like this?

Severus wasn’t in the sitting room when she arrived, so Rose turned instinctively to the bedroom. The door was open just a crack, a sliver of lamplight escaping. Rose slipped off her shoes, and she slunk over on stocking-clad feet. She pushed the door open slowly and peered inside.

Propped up by pillows, Severus sat in bed, reading over his book of baby names. He was already in his grey nightshirt, and his rounded belly was covered by his thick winter blankets. He looked up at the sound of the opening door, and he caught sight of Rose leaning into the room. For a moment, the couple were silent, Severus taking in the sight of his Rosie looking so red-eyed and worn out. And her bright blue eyes had faded to a disturbing dullness. Severus let this go for about a minute before he tossed the book aside and stretched his arms out to Rose. The young witch rushed forward and threw herself into her lover’s embrace, wrapping her arms around his chest and burying her face in his shoulder. The tears started again almost instantly.

Severus softly hushed her, comforting her with warm, rubbing hands against her back and shoulders. There wasn’t much use for words to him; he knew that Rose had gotten a very good talking-to from her friends in Gryffindor tower, and Severus saw no need to repeat any of it. But it was clear that no matter what was said to her, nothing was going to ease this. Severus thought briefly of his relationship with his own parents, and how the resentment he held for them had never gone away, even as he approached his fortieth year. All Severus could do now was to give Rose what he never had, and that was to be someone who would ride the pain out with her, waiting with her for it to finally ebb away.

“Why doesn’t he love me?” Rose asked at last. Severus was a little taken aback by the question. In all the discussions they had about Alistair, the question of love never came up. But Severus realized that it was probably a question that Rose had been avoiding for what could have been years, and he felt his heart sink into his stomach. The baby knocked one of his ribs in protest.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose a man like that can only give as much love as he receives.” Rose looked up at Severus, her face almost that of a puzzled child. But the innocence faded quickly, and she resettled on his shoulder. She was done asking about her father, and she was done wondering about the unknown. There were no more words to be said as Severus gently soothed his shattered lover to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll let this chapter speak for itself. Let me know what you guys thought.
> 
> I just published a new Avengers fic, "Fate's Crossing", a Titanic-themed love story. If anyone is interested you should go check that out.
> 
> Thank you!


	64. Ron

Ron wondered why he ever thought that this year at Hogwarts would be normal. Perhaps because he spent a great deal of his education being jumbled about by the craziness of being friends with Harry, almost always resulting in a showdown with the dark forces, the youngest Weasley brother wanted to spend his last year at school as he ordinarily would. He wanted to go about his business without anything bothering him or his friends. And it seemed that finally, after the eight longest years of his life, he was getting what he wanted, which was something Ron didn’t get to feel very often in his crowded family life.

He had laughed when George and Bill warned him about Seventh-year Syndrome, how it was this dangerous thing that threatened anyone’s N.E.W.T. exam marks. But unlike his girlfriend, always on top of each of her assignments and marking exam dates on calendars, Ron saw no real need to worry needlessly. He had learned long ago that a life filled with fraught was not a life worth living, and after seeing his brother’s life cut so tragically short, Ron would be damned if he didn’t live that life to the absolute fullest. With the freedom of a school year without Death Eater’s attempting to break down the castle doors, he wanted to relax and have a little fun. Merlin knew he wouldn’t have time for that once the year was out and adulthood actually began. Besides, naps in between classes weren’t too much to ask for, no matter what Hermione said.

But even if Lord Voldemort was vanquished, that didn’t mean that this year would not be eventful. Ron knew that a war like that would bring about changes, many of them good, others bad, and others just plain confusing. But he never imagined how close to home those changes would ultimately come. He had spent his summer grieving with his family over the loss of Fred, and he had hoped that Hogwarts would provide some sort of relief, and it had. But what could have prepared him for what would be waiting for them on those hallowed grounds? There was a muddled student body, too confused to maintain the sharp house and blood inspired divisions of past years. There was a tight school budget, which was now definitely beginning to put a pinch on their educations. And just when Ron thought he had seen the absolute limits of magic, he was knocked upside the head by the sight of a visibly pregnant Snape. Throw in Rose and her perverse little fancy for that sight, and Ron found himself in one of the last spots he would have seen himself eight months after the end of the war. But as difficult as it was to swallow, Ron tried his best to accept it. He just tucked that information into the back of his mind and carried on with his day.

Perhaps he had been preordained to have this confusing, hectic life. And if that was the case, then there was no sense in fighting it.

**~HP~**

The disastrous visit by Alistair Beckett had left Hogwarts in such a ruckus. Sympathy for Rose flowed in from people among all four houses, and Ron steamed over it for at least two or three days afterward. He knew that Rose had a terrible relationship with her father; she had talked about it quite openly in recent months. But never had she given any of them the indication that it was that bad between them; that the vile git spoke to her and of her with so little regard. Ron meant it when he wanted to take Beckett outside and knock him about. Rose was a friend, and no one messed with his friends and got away with it.

Ron was filled with nothing but glee when he heard that the bastard had actually gotten what was coming to him, via a loud rumor that quickly worked its way up to Gryffindor tower. It seemed that Remus had gotten a little out of hand, and he took a good swing at Beckett, which left him knocked out cold for a few seconds. He said it was the wolf getting the best of him. Frankly, Ron didn’t care why it happened. He was just thrilled that someone had the bollocks to do it. The excitement however was short-lived, because Hermione reminded them all that Alistair held their financial situation in the palm of his hand. He would never recommend Hogwarts for financial aid after being assaulted by a staff member, and the reality was made even more evident by the professors’ grumpy temperaments. But by some miracle, otherwise known as executive order, word spread a few days later that Beckett’s superiors had decided that they would go ahead and award Hogwarts their grant, much to the delight of the school’s population. That was good money that would put new telescopes in the Astronomy tower, buy new books for Ancient Runes and Divination, and send all of the Muggle Studies students on a glamorous day-trip to London.

“It’s a bloody mystery,” Ron said as he stretched out on the sofa in front of the empty common room’s roaring fire. He, Hermione, Rose, and Harry had just come in from an evening visit with Hagrid, and the four of them were now waiting for their socks to dry by the hearth. “I would have thought that a guy that conceited would play up the fact that he got knocked out on the job, and yet Remus says that there was no indication from the firm that anything happened. It makes absolutely no sense.”

“He had to have lied, mate,” said Harry, rubbing his hands together to warm them up. “Either he lied about why he was hit or they never found out about it.”

“Really,” Ron droned with a good roll of his eyes. He watched Rose just across from him, sitting on the floor and massaging her bare and very pink toes. “You mean Beckett never told his bosses about what happened here. You would think that the ruddy blighter would be boasting about getting the one-up on his no good, half-blood daughter.”

The daughter in question turned her head to the boys on the sofa. Rose’s flaxen brow wrinkled, but she didn’t appear too offended from Ron’s perspective. The pinkish shade of her cheeks also seemed more from the cold than anything else. She had not talked much of her father since he humiliated her in front of the whole student body, and for very good reason, obviously. But it was hard for Ron to understand how she could remain so silent and passive about something that everyone else raged over. Some could call it the result of her unhappy childhood and those grievous circumstances, but Ron preferred to look at it as a testament to Rose’s personal strength. People liked to think of verbally-abused children as these pathetic little whelps, which Rose certainly was not. In fact, she had pushed away many people’s attempts at comforting her, saying that she appreciated them, but didn’t need their help. Rose was tougher than she was given credit for; she had to be if she went through over a decade’s worth of visits with her father and turned out alright in the end. And there was a small part of Ron that wished he had that kind of stamina.

Rose briefly glanced over at Hermione, curled up at Ron’s side. The Head Girl gave her a weak expression, as though she couldn’t quite find the words. Rose turned back to Ron and Harry. “I’m pretty confident that my father doesn’t talk about me at work,” she said. “And even if he did, it wouldn’t go beyond a bare mention.”

“He probably doesn’t want to answer any questions,” said Harry, very cynically. “To think that I didn’t believe you, Rose, when you said that he was ashamed of you.” Rose rolled her eyes with a sort of half-smirk. It seemed that this was something she had long since accepted, or perhaps she was just really good at bottling that up. That was another thing Ron admired about Rose. She definitely had a temper; it had gotten into trouble plenty of times. But at least she made an effort to control it. These days, she could fester over things for ages before genuinely losing control. It was something that would have served Ron well in the past.

“It still doesn’t make sense though,” he said, bringing himself back to the present. “The whole time he was here, he talked to Rose like he was the victim in this whole mess. A bloke that bigheaded would have used that to fuck all of us over and put the school in a financial hole.”

“Actually, no,” said Hermione. A thought had suddenly come to her, if that curious face and slight pointed finger was anything to go by. “If he really is that self-centered, then he would only be thinking of his own welfare, right?”

“Yeah?” Ron and Harry said together, the question so stupid that they almost couldn’t believe it was Hermione asking it. Rose stifled a giggle on the floor.

“Well,” Hermione straightened her back. “Mister Beckett just got out of prison, which means that he’s on a short leash. Most of the people who are being imprisoned for this war are being put on probation once they’re released. The last thing Beckett would want to do would be to violate that and get sent back. If I were him, I would have wanted to be on my best behavior, or at least as far as my bosses knew. He didn’t tell them about getting punched in the face because he didn’t want to say why.”

“You realize that he could have lied about that too, right?” said Ron. “He could have made up some old school grudge that Remus had to act on.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me one bit,” said Rose as she leaned forward to pick their socks off the grate with the tips of her finger and thumb.

“Hold on guys,” Harry said, holding a hand up from his side. “I don’t think we should be debating this too much. We got what we wanted out of it. And if Beckett is smart, he won’t come near Rose ever again. For all of our sakes, I think it’s best that we put this behind us.” He nodded his head slightly to Rose, who either didn’t notice or deliberately ignored it.

Ron glanced at Hermione, who was already giving him one of those _shut-up-Ron_ looks. But the thing about that was that Ron was never very good at heeding those warnings. Hermione was loud, but the voice in his head was slightly louder. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “And look on the bright side, Rose. You got a free trip to London out of this.” In his right ear, Hermione let out a soft sigh of relief.

“It’s the nicest thing Dad’s done for me since I was eight,” said Rose, her sarcasm getting lost in her amusement. “The only thing that would make it better would be if it was actually his money paying for it. He’d have a stroke if he found out it was going towards tickets for West End theatre. Oh well, out of sight, out of mind, I guess.”

“You’ll be gone a whole day,” said Ron, his tone taking a turn for the cheeky. “Goodness, whatever will Snape do without you?”

The pink in Rose’s cheeks darkened, and Hermione looked like she was ready to smack Ron. But Rose smirked and shot a quick glance at Harry. Ron had made good on his promise not to tell the Head Boy about Rose’s perverse fascination with the Potions master, although there were moments when he dearly wished he could, moments like right now. His perplexed glance was funny, but it would be hilarious to see the look on Harry’s face at hearing that one!

“If he knows what’s good for him and the baby, he’ll take the day off,” said Rose. “It’s not like he would volunteer to come along as an extra chaperone. He’d lose his mind after three hours of a Muggle musical.”

“You’d still miss him though,” said Harry, who was finally getting in on the joke, innocently and unknowingly. Rose caught another laugh in her throat. “As much as I can miss a sneering pregnant wizard who constantly complains of backaches and accuses you three of causing his swollen ankles.”

**~HP~**

As much as he loved her, Ron wished that Hermione let him have a little fun every now and then. Even though his girlfriend had loosened up significantly in recent months, which aided tremendously in their late evening romps, she still treated taking the mickey out of other people as though it was a crime. Rose in particular she guarded like it was her life’s duty. Ron tried to say that it was all in good fun, that Rose had a sense of humor, but no! She had been through too much, Hermione told him. The last few months had been hard enough without people making fun of her. And the tongue-lashing Ron got once he and Hermione were alone together was enough for him to agree with her. But really, it had taken eight years before Rose finally snapped and fought back against Pansy Parkinson! As long as he didn’t call her that other dreaded R-name, Ron couldn’t imagine anything worse coming from his gentle nudges. Besides, Rose had to know it was coming to her. Hanging around with Snape was bound to put a target on the backs of anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin.

Not that she seemed to mind that, of course.

Ron still couldn’t figure out what Rose saw in the greasy git. She ran around with some of the best looking blokes in the school and she picked Snape?! He had meant what he said when he first found out about Rose’s crush on the Potions master, and he wasn’t about to take any of it back. Aside from the dark, unkempt appearance, and the nasty, hair-trigger temperament, the man was pregnant, for Merlin’s sake! Ron could not think of a more emasculating thing that could happen to a man. And Rose was one of the only people who actually saw Snape without his arsenal of Glamour Charms. How in the hell was she still attracted to him with his body all misshapen and distorted like that? How could she look at that grotesque, swollen belly and not feel disturbed? How could she even look at him when he wasn’t pregnant and see anything appealing?

If there was one thing Ron knew, it was that he certainly wasn’t going to ask. He knew what Rose could do when she was angry, and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.

**~HP~**

The snow came up to their calves as Ron, Harry, and Rose trudged their way across the grounds, headed back toward the castle. The walk was actually proving to be a good thing after that very long, hectic Quidditch practice. It hadn’t been their best example of teamwork, involving a quite a bit of falling and being tossed about in the packed snow and a certain amount of shouting and scolding from their hassled captain. If they played a game like that, Hufflepuff would have no trouble at all getting ahead in the quest for the cup.

“We’re losing focus,” said Harry, tugging his foot out of the hard imprint it had formed. “We got lucky with Slytherin, and Ravenclaw’s gone a bit soft with their strategy. But we can’t underestimate Hufflepuff just yet. If we play a game the way we played just now, we could kiss that cup goodbye.”

“Yeah mate,” Ron nodded. “And Seamus will end up with a massive concussion if he plays like that again. He keeps watching Demelza when he should be keeping his eyes on the Bludgers. I think he hit that one Bludger toward Dean just to impress her.”

“He’ll be disappointed to find out about her little fling with that bloke from Ravenclaw then,” tittered Rose. “When it’s a girl he fancies, Seamus seems to forget that there are other men in the world.”

“Fancy or not, he shouldn’t be checking out girls during Quidditch,” said Harry. Rose laughed as she turned her head to the Head Boy. “Oh bollocks, when Ginny was here, you were checking her out every chance you got!”

“At least I still had a mind for the game,” Harry defended, and Rose playfully punched him in the shoulder.

Sometimes, Ron couldn’t help but marvel at the bond Harry had formed with Rose. These two had started out as bare acquaintances, and yet they had become such fast friends in a few short months, spending a great deal of time together in between classes. Harry now went to Rose for advice with Potions more often than Hermione, and he in turn helped her with her DADA performance. At first, Ron believed it was an adverse reaction. Ginny’s decision to take a break from school had probably been harder on Harry than anyone else. But it didn’t take very long for Ron to see that Harry hung out with Rose simply because he enjoyed her company. The truth be told, their relationship was probably more amicable than Harry’s relationship with Ginny, and Ron wondered why Harry didn’t just go after Rose instead. Red hair, played Quidditch, not much of a difference there. But Ron reminded himself for the one millionth time that no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop Harry from seeing Ginny, and he would once again be treated to the sight come the Easter holidays. At least Rose was there to distract him from floundering in his self-pity until then.

They were met with a rush of warm when they stepped in from the cold winter air, their shoes squeaking on the floor. They approached the grand staircase and were about to start up towards Gryffindor tower when Rose suddenly stopped. “You guys go on up,” she said to them. “I’m meeting with Snape to discuss the Potions syllabus for the next few weeks, just to see if there’s anything I can help out with. I’ll see you guys later.” And like that, she was off down the steps, disappearing into the dungeons so fast, one would have thought she lived there.

“Man, she really needs to find herself a boyfriend,” said Ron, his lips twitching into a small grin as they started up the many steps. “It’s getting to be unhealthy, the amount of time she spends with Snape.”

“Hey, whatever suits her,” said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. “At least she can stand to be around the guy, so let her handle him. One of us has to, right?”

“Yeah,” the ginger wizard nodded. The trouble with being charged to watch out for Snape while he was pregnant was that a certain amount of communication was required. And frankly, Ron was glad that Rose was up for that challenge. “Better her than us.”

“You know what, though? I think Rose might already have something going on when we’re not around.”

“You mean with a guy?” asked Ron, his eyebrows perking up. Aside from her unsettling crush on Snape, Rose hadn’t said anything particularly thought-provoking about any particular guy. Frankly, Ron at one time thought that Rose had sworn off men entirely if she hadn’t gotten involved with some bloke by now. “What makes you say that?”

Harry’s eyes brightened mischievously. “Well, I was making a trip to the loo late the other night when I heard someone moving around in the common room. I poked my head out of the dormitories, and there’s Rose coming in from the halls. She had her shoes in her hands, like she didn’t want to be heard. And the look on her face was like the look Neville gets after he’s been to see Luna. She had to have been up to something.”

“It’s probably that guy that sent her those flowers on Valentine’s Day,” Ron suggested. Harry cocked his head at the idea, saying, “You think so? She couldn’t find _All-my-affection_ , what makes you think she’s found this one?”

“Well, you know, Rose doesn’t exactly tell us everything,” said Ron. “She told us she had a bad relationship with her dad, but we had to meet the bastard to see how bad it was. Who’s to say she wouldn’t do that if she was dating someone? Beats me why though.”

“Probably because you would take the piss out of her,” said Harry. “She still hasn’t forgiven us for the way we teased her about _All-my-affection._ ”

“Don’t remind me, Harry. I get it enough from Hermione,” Ron groaned, knocking his best mate in the shoulder. Harry smirked, letting out a small laugh as he rubbed away the dull ache.

“What does it matter anyway whether or not Rose is seeing someone?” he asked. “She seems pretty happy either way, as happy as she can be for someone who basically had to restart her life after the war ended.”

“I don’t know,” said Ron. “I didn’t know how happy I could be until I got with Hermione. I just think Rose might be missing out. We got to live while we’re still young, you know? Besides, if you ask me, anything that gets her away from Snape is a good thing.”

Harry laughed again. “There’s no use trying to control a woman who’s being driven by maternal instinct. She’ll be down there until that kid comes, probably.”

“Again, way better her than me!” Ron chortled. Oh, the things he wished he could say out in the open! Sometimes, vowing to shut up about Snape’s delicate condition was a real bummer. “All the power to her if she can put up with that for another three months.” Harry shook his head as they stepped off on the seventh floor level, but Ron could tell that after all those years that a shake like that meant that Harry agreed with him. He just didn’t want to say it out loud.

**~HP~**

Ron walked with a confident stride as he made his way through the darkened halls. There was no moon out that night, the only source of light being the periodic bursts of torchlight. And it was past the hour when a great deal of noise could be heard around the castle. Ron relished in the fact that he was alone. He still had one more hour until the Seventh year curfew, and he fully intended to make the most out of that time, even if it meant a little bit of hiding and dashing about again. But hey, that’s what made these nights so fun. He ran his fingers through his ginger hair as he approached the doors to the library, where his darling girl waited for him.

There were almost no words to describe his love for Hermione. What he said to Harry was completely true and then some. He literally did not know what it meant to be happy until he had her. In a life when he had to share everything and make so many sacrifices for his large family, it felt awesome to have something that he could genuinely call his and his alone. And though his family loved him unconditionally, it didn’t feel nearly as good as it did with Hermione. He had never imagined himself with a girl so clever, so warm, and so amazing in every way. More than that, he never imagined that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like him.

He and Hermione had come from two completely different worlds. She was an only child while he was tossed about between six siblings. He was pure-blood from a long line of wizard tradition, and she was born of Muggles. She valued structure and discipline, putting her education above all other priorities. He never missed a chance to throw caution to the wind. There should have been no way that these two could have ended up together, and yet they had, and like many of their cheeky, slightly annoying housemates, Ron often wondered why he and Hermione didn’t get together sooner. He didn’t know what the future had in store for them, but Ron was perfectly content to hang on for the ride. Life was exciting in this free world, and as long as Hermione was by his side, the possibilities were endless.

Madam Pince was not at her desk when Ron arrived, but the lit lamp on its surface alerted him that she was still in the area, likely returning books to their proper places on the shelves. But Ron wasn’t a bit nervous about this; he had already had enough practice eluding the crotchety old hag. Swiftly and silently, he made his way through the lines of shelves, going around the Ancient Runes section and cutting through Charms. He didn’t look around as he walked; he already knew where Hermione was. Ron could feel his excitement brimming, thinking of the passion that would soon be flowing between them. Hermione was a chaste girl, but Merlin, was she enticing! Ron struggled to keep his sexual fantasies in check as he stepped up to the door of the private study room that Hermione often used, and he raised his hand to knock.

“I’m sure it’s an easy decision for some people, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to take that step with Ron yet.”

At the sound of Hermione’s voice, Ron froze. It hadn’t occurred to him that there would be someone else with her, as the only other person whom she shared that little room with was him. But instead of barging in on the conversation, Ron pressed his body up against the door, bringing his ear right up to the surface. If Hermione was in there with another guy, he wanted good solid proof of it before confronting her.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mione,” Rose’s voice quietly echoed out, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He continued to listen. “Love is a complicated thing, and only you are capable of knowing when you’re ready. Surely you knew that when you and Ron started dating.”

“I was ready for the relationship, no doubt about that,” said Hermione. “But sex is such a big commitment, you know? I want to be completely sure of myself and my relationship before going that far.”

“You’re not sure about Ron?” asked Rose, and Ron gripped the molding around the door.

“No, nothing like that,” Hermione replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Ron. I mean, I really love him. But the idea of consummating our relationship just seems like such a huge thing, so much that it makes me wonder if we would be tempting the fates if we did.”

“I know what you mean,” said Rose. Ron could hear a chair creak as she sat down. “I thought the same thing, but there’s that old saying. You know when the time is right. No matter how much you plan for it, sometimes the moment comes when you least expect it, and you just let it happen.”

“Did it feel right for you?” asked Hermione. Ron’s eyes widened, and he pressed himself closer to the door just in time to hear Rose say, “Yeah, it did. It really did.”

Ron felt his masculine intrigue perk up significantly. Rose, the perpetual spinster of Gryffindor tower, was not a virgin? When did this happen? So Harry had been onto something after all. Ron felt the slightest bit guilty that he was eavesdropping on Rose’s private life, but this was far too juicy to pass up. He could almost see the look on Harry’s face if he had been there listening right along with him. Ron’s ear touched the surface of the door.

“What was that first time like for you?” he heard Hermione ask. “I’ve heard everything from heavenly to bloody awful.”

“There’s no real way to describe it,” said Rose. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to sleep with him that night. But he and I were having a conversation, our emotions were high, and we just couldn’t stop it. But I tell you, Mione, I don’t regret it one bit because it was amazing. It hurt the day after, but you forget that part.”

“Now see, I don’t like the sound of that,” Hermione said with a giggle that sounded like it was forced.

“It’s not that bad, Mione. You’re sore for a day or two, but then you’re fine. If I’m honest, I would gladly take a few dull aches for the pleasure that he gives me.”

_‘Oh-ho, so he’s still around, is he?’_ Ron thought to himself, and he bit his tongue to stop a laugh from escaping. He was so enwrapped in his snooping that he almost didn’t hear the sound of Madam Pince shuffling around in a nearby section.

“You’re one of the lucky ones, I suppose,” said Hermione. Rose giggled on the other side of the tiny room. “I rather thought so. He just doesn’t strike you as a romantic guy, does he? But god, is he good in bed!”

“But doesn’t the baby get in the way?”

Ron tasted blood as he chomped down on his lip in shock. What the bloody hell did Hermione mean by that? What baby was she talking about? Ron might have been delightfully oblivious at times, but he was damn sure that Rose had never borne a child; her body was still too good for that. But before he could imagine Rose using Glamour Charms on herself, he heard her voice behind the door say, “Only a little bit. We’ve had to change positions a little bit to make room for the bump, and I had to take a little more control the last few times we shagged, but really, it’s all worth it. Severus is such a wonderful lover, I don’t care that he’s pregnant. He thinks he can do better, but as far as I’m concerned, it hasn’t inhibited him one bit. As long as he’s up for it, then I can hardly complain.”

At that, Ron abruptly pushed himself away from the door, very nearly knocking his elbow against a stack of books. He thought he heard Madam Pince’s footsteps heading his way, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was what he had just heard. He hadn’t just heard that, he couldn’t have! He must have heard wrong. He must be going mad. Something had to be tragically wrong with him if he heard that.

“Well, it’s a good thing that you got to make love before he got bigger,” Hermione laughed, and that was the last straw.

Ron started walking before he had even turned around. Once he spun on his heel, his walk instantly became a jog, which became a run as soon as he was out of the library. Adrenaline coursed through Ron like fire as he sprinted through the dark halls. He didn’t stop for breath, nor did he feel the painful cold as he ran right through Nearly Headless Nick’s misty form. Ron didn’t even bat an eyelash at the winding steps in the massive stairwell. All Ron was focused on was getting to the top of them.

His footsteps sounded like claps of thunder going up the stairs. It didn’t matter to Ron if the whole school could hear him, mostly because he was on the seventh floor before anyone could see him. He finally came to a screeching halt in front of the Fat Lady, and he puffed out the password. Once he was inside, Ron ran through the empty common room, up the stairs to the dormitories, and then up to the closed door of his room. He exploded through the doorway, causing Harry to very nearly flip off his bed with a yelp.

“Oi mate, what’s going on?!” he asked, closing the book he had been reading and getting to his feet before he could make a bigger fool of himself.

“She…” gasped Ron, out of breath from his marathon dash. He bent over to rest against his knees. “She sha…”

“Who?” asked Harry as he bent over to rest his hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“Rose…she’s…she’s…”

“She’s what?” Harry asked, his voice tensing suddenly. “Ron, what’s wrong with Rose? What’s happened?”

“ _She’s shagging Snape!!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for leaving it off here...
> 
> I don't know when the next chapter will be ready, but I will try to get it up as fast as I can. In the meantime, if any of you are in the Marvel fandom, I recently posted new fic "Fate's Crossing." I've only just started it, but it's taking up a great deal of my writing time these days, a bit of a passion project if you will, because I'm combining two of my favorite things in the world, being Thor/Loki and Titanic. If you're interested, you should go check it out.


	65. Harry

Harry felt as though he had been punched in the gut with tremendous force. His breath got caught in his throat, and the blood rushed to his head. The hand that until then had been supporting Ron fell to his side, and it clenched together into a hard, white fist. Harry felt a burning deep in his stomach as his body tensed up. He had known incredible anger in his life, but never had a rage like this crashed over him so suddenly and so quickly at the mention of one name.

Rose was sleeping with Snape…

“I overheard Rose talking to Hermione,” Ron breathed out. “It sounds like they’ve done it a whole bunch of times.” He might have continued if Harry had looked more attentive. But the Head Boy’s head was turned down to the floor, his fiery green eyes shadowed by his dark brow.

The desire to throttle the Potions master festered aggressively in Harry’s soul. How dare he?! How dare he lay one hand on Rose after everything she had been through?! She had been disgraced by her own father barely a week before, right in front of God and every student at Hogwarts. She had been subjected to the tortures of Voldemort’s followers. She had lost her closest friends to that war, and she had watched the love of her life die right before her eyes! What made it all worse was the realization that Snape probably knew all of that. Harry knew Rose well enough to know how hard it was for her to genuinely trust people. And he knew that in the time she had spent with Snape, she had come to trust the man as an ally and mentor. To think that the greasy bastard had taken advantage of that trust! He had manipulated Rose for his own personal gain, pulled her into such vulgar liaisons with him, stole something that should have only been hers to give. Just when Harry was beginning to think that Snape had integrity, a small amount of honor, he had to discover that Snape’s depravity stretched far beyond anything he did for Lord Voldemort. He had taken a girl’s innocence. Not just any girl, but a girl that Harry cared for like a sister, a girl that he turned to when he needed unconditional support. Harry loved Rose, and he would be damned to the deepest circle on Hell before he let Snape get away with this.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice constricting into a snarl.

“The library, with Hermione,” said Ron. “But I don’t know how much longer they’ll be there, if they’re even still there – where are you going?”

“To find Rose,” said Harry, pushing his way past Ron. “I don’t care if I have to walk around this whole castle looking for her, she’s giving me some fucking answers tonight.” He grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, storming out without bothering to close it behind him.

“Hey Harry, wait up!” Ron shouted as he moved to follow behind, stumbling slightly over his own feet. He probably thought that Harry was out for blood, and he just might have been. But Harry wanted to hear this for himself before he did anything. Ron was reliable, but there was still the slightest chance that he had misheard Rose. Harry didn’t want to attack anyone, in any way at all, but if he had to defend a friend, then not even the Dark One himself could stand in his way. If Snape was truly guilty, Harry wanted to hear it straight from his prey.

They flew down the dormitory steps with great ease, and Harry did not slow as he moved into the common room’s sitting area. Passing through the sofas and tables, he was reaching for his wand when the portrait hole suddenly opened. Harry froze in place as Hermione stepped through, his eyes locked on the blue eyes and long red hair that followed behind her.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard,” said Ron after catching up to Harry and seeing the two girls before him.

“Were you coming to look for us?” Hermione asked in a rather chipper tone. “How funny, Rose and I came here looking for you.”

“Hermione said Ron was running a little bit late for their date,” explained Rose. “We just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t up to some kind of trouble.”

“Well, isn’t that nice,” said Harry, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“What is?” asked Hermione.

“That Rose would come all the way up here with you before heading back the other way.”

Both of the girls flinched ever so slightly, and Rose shot a quick glance at Hermione. “What are you talking about, Harry?”

“Isn’t Snape expecting you?” Harry asked, cocking a dark brow over his glasses. Contempt was tugging at his vocal cords, just daring her to lie to his face. Rose picked up on that tone right away, and she stepped forward to stand in front of the Boy-who-lived.

“No need to be nasty, Harry,” she said, her tenor quite stern. Rose was one of those people who treated people as they treated her, and she spoke to them with as much respect as she was given. And Harry was no exception to that. “I thought we’ve been through this. Even if I was meeting Snape, it doesn’t affect you, and therefore, it’s none of your concern.” She stepped to the left to make for the stairs.

“It’s none of my concern until someone gets hurt,” Harry told her without turning around. He heard the scrape of Rose’s shoes on the floor as she came to a stop, and he gave her a moment before he turned to meet her hard eyes.

“I don’t think I know what you mean,” said Rose, shaking her head slightly.

“Oh, I think you do,” replied Harry. Rose was being far too standoffish for him to believe that she actually didn’t know what this was about, and that was definitely a bad sign. “Word is that you and Snape are closer than you’ve been letting on.”

Rose’s eyes shot open, and she looked past Harry’s head. “You idiot!” she snarled, storming over to Ron, backing him into a table. “You promised that you wouldn’t tell him that I fancied Snape!”

“More than a fancy from what I hear,” Harry chided. Rose stilled in place, but then frantically looked between Ron and back to Hermione, who was staring at them in a state of shock. She then backed away from them, shaking her head inwardly. To Harry, it was an evident look of disbelief, but how much of an act it was, he did not know. Hermione reached into her robes and brought forth her wand.

“ _Muffliato!_ ” she shouted, sealing off the room of sound, thus protecting their discussion from any prying ears above. Sure that they would not be heard, she nodded her head at Rose, who spoke again in a much quieter, but still very stern voice.

“Look, neither of you would understand what’s going on with me right now. It’s not very often that I meet men who treat me with such utter respect, give me such encouragement. I needed that after all that’s happened in the last few years, and unfortunately, I cannot control who I take fancy to. I’m sorry if the idea disturbs you, but Snape means a lot to me.”

“Enough to give him a good shag?” asked a cynical Harry. Rose turned her head slowly to him, her blue eyes burning with a steadily growing rage that sent a shiver through Harry’s insides.

“What?” she hissed.

“You heard what I said.” Harry walked around the sofa that Rose had recoiled behind, taking a firm stance beside the fireplace.

Rose shook her head, her breath deepening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Ron doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Those private rooms in the library are not as soundproof as you think,” informed Ron, and Rose gasped softly. “You didn’t hear anything,” she said, but Ron shook his head. Hermione gasped in the corner, and Rose swallowed hard.

“Rose, what the hell is going on between you and Snape?” asked Harry. Rose was eerily silent as she began to back away from him. Harry took a step forward for every retreating step of hers, not giving her any room for escape.

“Harry…” Hermione tried to plead, but Harry just ignored her. “I’m waiting,” he said, fingers twitching, just itching to go for his wand.

“I…uh…I’m…” Rose stuttered, eyes darting around the room, desperately searching for a way out.

“Out with it, Beckett!” Ron demanded, also starting to close in on Rose.

“Ron, stop it!” shouted Hermione, seeing that Rose’s face was beginning to scrunch up. Fearing that she might become violent, Hermione grabbed Ron from behind and tried to pull him back. But that still left Harry.

“Just admit it,” he said in a deathly quiet manner, cornering her like an animal. “You and Snape are fucking, aren’t you?” He forced Rose back so far that the back of her legs hit the sofa, buckling her knees. She fell back onto the plush cushions.

“Well…” Harry’s voice was nothing short of intimidating. It was then that Rose looked right up at Harry. Across the way, Hermione was jolted by the look of pure fury in her eyes. It was as though Harry might burst into flame at any moment. She was startled by what actually happened, as was Harry. Hot tears formed and one slowly dripped down Rose’s cheek.

“You want an answer, Potter?” she asked, jogging them all by calling Harry by his surname, something she had never done in eight years. “Fine…yes. I’m seeing Snape.”

“Oh my god!” Harry groaned, turning away. “So you admit that you’re sleeping with him too?”

“In so few words, I am. But it’s not –,”

“Holy hell!”

Ron pulled out of his girlfriend’s grip and growled, “I knew it! I knew I heard right! I don’t believe you…you…you whore!”

“It’s not like that!” Rose growled back, standing up with violent speed.

“What? Are you that desperate for good marks?”

“No, you stupid git!”

“Ron, stop!”

“Hermione, stay out of this,” said Rose, almost begging. She clenched her hands together at her side. Ron wrinkled his brow in disgust, and shook his head, saying, “So you’re Snape’s plaything then?”

“No, I’m not,” Rose growled.

“Of course, you are,” said Harry, much too matter-of-factly for the circumstances, and Rose knew it. She arced her head towards the Head Boy.  “Excuse me?” she said, sounding nothing less than insulted.  

“Rose,” said Harry, trying to reason with her, speaking as though he was talking to someone much younger than the young woman in question. “Do you honestly believe that Snape cares about you?”

“I don’t just believe it,” said Rose, venomously sarcastic. “I know it.”

“You cannot be serious,” Harry shook his head. This argument made absolutely no sense, given everything he knew of that disgusting bastard. “Rose, you’re an intelligent girl. You must see that Snape cannot possibly care for one of us in that way. We’re nothing more than little brats to him – we’ve heard it a thousand times!”

“And that means that it is irrevocably true?” asked Rose. “Listen Harry, you weren’t there when we were together. You didn’t hear what he said to me. So let me make myself very clear. I know for a fact that he cares for me. I’ll carry on with my relationship whether you like it or not. And guess what, Harry. He loves me!”

Now Harry was angry. He clenched his hands together, and he growled in his throat. “You stupid witch, you just don’t get it! Snape doesn’t love you. He is _using_ you!”

“Using me?!” Rose snapped, lunging for Harry. Hermione took the opportunity to position herself between her two battling friends, and she held Rose in place. Rose shouted again, “He is _not!_ ”

“He’s lied before and you know it,” said Harry.

“Shove it, Potter!”

Harry stepped back at Rose’s attack. Hermione mumbled something to Rose under her breath, and there was a brief moment of quiet before Rose straightened herself up and took a breath. “What evidence do you have to your claim, Harry?” she asked. She sounded calmer, but still menacing. “What makes you so sure that Severus is lying to me?”  

“Bloody fuck, she calls him Severus!” Harry swore to himself, throwing his head up to the high ceiling.

“Hey man, easy on the swearing,” said Ron, to which Rose replied with, “Not a crime, Ron.” She glared at Harry, daring him to answer her questions. But Harry, never a man of cowardice, was _not_ going to back down from this fight.

“Rose, this is Snape we’re talking about. It is well known that he’s a very good liar. He lied to the whole world for over a decade –,”

“It was for the greater good, and you know it,” Rose growled. But unfortunately for her, Harry wasn’t done yet. “That may be true,” he said. “But even you have to say that he also did it for his own benefit. What makes you think that he isn’t doing the same now?”

“What makes you think he can’t change?” Rose fired back.

“What makes you think that you’re different?”

“What makes you think that you really know the guy?!”

“What makes you think that _you_ do?!”

“Will you both just shut up?!” Hermione shrilly commanded, forcibly shoving Harry back away from Rose. “Can’t you both see that we’re getting absolutely nowhere? Unless we want to keep going around in circles, we need to be able to speak to each other like adults.”

“But she’s being naïve,” Harry defended in a rather childish manner.

“Oh? I’m naïve?” Rose raised an eyebrow. “If I’m being naïve, then you’re being completely ignorant and pigheaded. You get pissy because I have a life that doesn’t involve you three. I supposedly get into trouble, and you turn on me with a snap of your fingers because you cannot accept the choices I made. And to think that you said that you would be there for me if I needed you. So I guess that makes you a liar as well, a bastard even…Severus was right about you.”

Hermione gasped. “Rose!”

“Oh shut up, Hermione,” groaned Rose.

“He’s got you completely brainwashed!” said Ron, causing Hermione to rush over to shut him up again.

Harry’s mouth hung open. He was downright astonished that Rose had the gall to say something like that. Here he was thinking that she was a friend worth keeping close. And she was throwing her life away for Snape, tossing aside her friends in the process?! The nerve of her!

“I don’t believe you, Rose,” he said, head shaking and voice low. “Of all people…how could you put him before us, before everything?”

Rose stared at Harry, the angriest she had ever been at him in nearly ten years. But to Harry, as well as Hermione and Ron, it wasn’t pure fury radiating from her cold, lined face. The tears that continued to pour out of her eyes spelt the truth of this anger. She was hurt.

“Difficult to believe, I know.” Her voice cracked against the knot that was most definitely forming in her throat. “But I’m in love with him.”

“You’re in love with him?!” Now, Harry was pacing in front of the fireplace, hands thrust up in the air. “How delusional can you get?”

“I cannot control who I fall for, and neither can you. You couldn’t control your feelings for Ginny.”

“Yes, but Ginny and I are actually supposed to go together,” sneered Harry. Ron made a noise as he brought up his hand, but Hermione pushed it back down with a quiet, “Not now, Ron.”

“Honestly Rose,” said Harry. “Of all the slimy blokes you could have picked, you picked Snape?! Not just Snape, but a pregnant Snape!”

Rose snickered under her breath. “Now Harry, I’m sure you’ve heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Severus might not be a wizard of your public appeal, but he’s still a decent man.”

“That depends on what you mean by decent.” Harry paused in his path across the floor, and he turned to Rose. “He spends his youth as a Death Eater, commits terrible acts in the name of Voldemort, tortures and ridicules countless students for nearly two decades, and now he uses one of the girls to satisfy his pent-up sexual fantasies. And how do you suppose he got pregnant, Rose? Are you stubborn enough to ignore that as well? Or have you just accepted that you’re probably the rebound from a nasty one night stand he had with some guy?”

Rose’s wand shot out of her robes, but Ron quickly disarmed her, sending the ebony rod flying. Hermione also rushed forward to block Rose from a physical attempt on Harry. “How dare you, Harry?!” she snarled, teeth bared as she spoke around Hermione. “How could you make an assumption like that so blindly? You have no idea what he’s been through! Do you really want to know how Severus got pregnant? Do you?! He got pregnant because that nasty one night stand was a rape! He was victimized by a raging madman on the streets of Knockturn Alley. He was beaten into the fucking ground, and you accuse him of something that callous and disgusting.”

Harry actually had to stop and take that in for a moment. There were many things he could see Severus Snape doing, but letting himself be overcome like that was not one of them. It was hard enough for him to picture Snape as a bottom man, let alone something like that! But even if Rose was right, there was no way he could feel sorry for the vile git, not if this was Snape’s way of recovering his manhood after sexual assault.

“It’s not worth it,” he said to Rose. “Listen Rose, I want to be on your side. I know you’ve been through a lot in the last few years, the last few weeks! But having sex with Snape is not going to make any of it better. It is just not worth it to continue. You’re just going to get your heart broken.”

Rose wiped away some of the tears that burned her face. “Who are you to say what will happen, Harry?” she whispered. “And why is it now your responsibility to look out for our relationships? You know what? I’m not some helpless child. I’m a grown woman and I can handle myself.” Harry raised his finger to say something, but Rose quickly stopped him. “Before you give me some bogus excuse like that you’re trying to help me, let me save you the trouble and tell you what I think. I don’t want your help. I don’t _need_ your help.”

That was the last straw for Harry. He reached into his robes and grasped his wand. Rose made a move for hers when Hermione dove in front of her, thinking that she had to stop this duel before it happened. But instead of taking a shot at Rose, Harry started for the portrait hole. “Harry, where are you going?” asked Hermione.

“I’m going to have a little chat with Snape,” Harry said with almost a growl. Rose’s eyes shot open frantically, and she went to rush after Harry. Ron quickly got his hands around her arms, holding her in place, fighting against her struggles.

“No, wait!” exclaimed Hermione as bolted over and blocked Harry’s path.

“Wait? Why wait?” The once great Chosen One questioned.

“Because you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” Hermione puffed up her chest, confident in her ability to keep Harry in the tower. Harry tried to shove Hermione out of the way. “Oh, I think I do.”

“Hey man, don’t you push my girl around!” Ron shouted, visibly provoked, though not loosening his grip on Rose. Harry sighed with annoyance, rolling his green eyes. Hermione continued to speak, growing more panicked with each word.

“You’ve seen Snape angry before. And you’re telling us that you want to openly force yourself into his personal life? Just take a second to think, will you? And besides, you don’t even know where he is.”

“I’m sure Rose can tell us that. Can’t you, Rose?” Harry turned back to the sofa. It seemed that Rose had decided that she was done speaking, choosing instead to focus all of her energy into getting out of Ron’s tight grasp. “He’s in his office, am I right?” Rose looked away from Harry, ignoring his question. But for Harry, this was an answer.

“That’s what I thought.” He summoned both his invisibility cloak from his trunk high above, and he turned to Ron. “Keep her up here. Make sure that she doesn’t try and stop me.”

“You got it,” he heard Ron say as he turned and left out through the hole, lighting the tip of his wand with a flick to illuminate the pitch-black halls.

He had only gotten to the stairwell when he heard the quick, light tapping of female footsteps. Seconds later, he heard someone call his name in a hissing whisper. Half-expecting that Rose had done something horrible to Ron and escaped, Harry whirled around and was surprised to see that it was Hermione who was hot on his tail. “Hermione, go back up to the common room.”

“No!” Hermione was now less panicked and more stern, more the Hermione that Harry knew. “Harry, you can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Harry started back down the stairs. Hermione darted down until she and Harry were on the same step.

“I’ll tell you why not, because Snape is expecting. I don’t care how angry you are with him. You can’t go upsetting him in his condition.”

“I hate to break it to you, Mione. But right now, I couldn’t care less about Snape being pregnant. Why should that matter to us anyway?”

“It should matter as much to you as it does to me. Dumbledore trusted us with Snape’s secret –,”

“One of many,” Harry rolled his eyes. They reached the bottom of the stairs. Hermione was about to speak when Harry grabbed her arm, listening to thin air. Somewhere in the halls, they could hear Filch’s heavy boots. A decrepit ‘meow’ bounced off the walls. Harry unfolded his father’s cloak. “Are you going back up or not?” Hermione shook her head. “Then stay under the cloak and keep quiet. _Nox_!” He engulfed them both in invisibility as the darkness returned.

They took very slow, very quiet steps as Harry led the way down to the dungeons. They were about to turn the corner and head down the steps that led to the dark corridors when they encountered the caretaker and his cat. They froze where they stood. Filch was minding his own business, not seeming to have discovered too much trouble that night. He continued on his way, but Mrs. Norris stopped and started directly at the spot where the two friends hid in plain sight. Harry clasped a hand over Hermione’s mouth to still her breath. Damn that cat for knowing something is there, even when she couldn’t see it. Filch turned and sighed at his pet.

“There’s nothing there, Sweet. Come on.” Mrs. Norris turned, but gave one last gaze in their direction before she followed her master around the corner. They descended down a last set of stairs into the dungeons, and Harry took a good look around. He then uncloaked the two of them with one good swoop. He folded up the long length of shimmery fabric up as he continued down the hall.

“You seem to have forgotten already that I already knew about Rose’s relationship with Snape,” said Hermione, picking up from where they left off.

“Yeah, and only God knows why you decided to keep your mouth shut on that one. _Lumos_.” Harry lit their way again.

“I kept my mouth shut because Rose is one of my best friends,” Hermione adamantly defended, walking with her hands fixed firmly at her sides.

“All the more reason for you to turn Snape in for molesting a student.”

“Alright, Rose was right about you being ignorant.” Hermione held up a finger to Harry’s face. “She is of legal age, and therefore, it’s _not_ molestation.”

“Oh sure, defend the git, why don’t you?” Harry wrinkled his eyebrows in pure repulse. “To hell we know, he could just be randy as hell and he’s taking advantage of Rose’s sick interest in him. He _is_ up the duff after all.”

Hermione, now fed up with her friend’s nasty sarcasm, stepped in front of him. “Look Harry,” she said, trying her best to be intimidating in a whisper. “I know how wrong it is. I know how illicit it is. But something keeps telling me that this is for real. Call me mad, but I don’t think Snape is playing with her.”

“You mean to tell me that you think Snape really does love her?” Harry questioned, pointing the tip of his wand at Hermione’s face. Hermione squinted against the blinding light. “Yes, I do,” she answered.

“I refuse to believe it until I hear it for myself.”

That was when Harry bolted down the hall, headed for the Potions classroom. Hermione half whispered, half shrieked as she ran after him. Not bothering to slow down, Harry hit and pushed open the surprisingly unlocked door. Hermione skidded in as Harry kicked the door in to Snape’s office and entered, wand at the ready. Across the room, Snape also had his wand out. He, however, was nowhere near the grace and agility that Harry was working with. He had obviously been caught off guard, his baby belly quite visible under his robes and his steps ungainly, as though he had suddenly shot up out of his desk chair.

“Potter! What in the hell are you –,”

“The jig is up, Snape!” Harry proclaimed. Snape was obviously nothing but pissed off if his face was anything to go by. “What the hell are you talking about?!” he growled.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know!” demanded Harry, moving closer to the pregnant wizard. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. I know all about you and Rose!”

Harry prepared himself for an onslaught of denial. But instead, Snape’s eyes widened and his lips parted in disbelief. “Who told you?” he asked, his voice seeming to be laced with quiet panic. Harry was briefly stunned that Snape actually admitted to his crime. But he quickly composed himself and continued. “Well, it appears I don’t have to threaten you since you already admit to it. Now that that’s out of the way, I just need to ask you a few questions, _Professor._ ”

“This doesn’t concern you, Potter!” Snape sneered. “Now kindly get the fuck out of my office before I have you –,”

“I am prepared to march upstairs right now and tell Dumbledore all about your scandalous affair with a student. By tomorrow night, the whole world will know just how sick and perverted you are.”

“You don’t scare me, you pathetic whelp.” Snape could have almost laughed with that.

“I suppose you’ve said that about me to Rose too, haven’t you?” Harry _did_ laugh with that. “It seems that she thinks I’m ignorant and pigheaded. I wonder where she got that idea, _sir._ ”

“That is between me and Rose.”

Harry rushed forward and stood square in the middle of the room. “Not anymore, it isn’t,” he threatened. He aimed his wand at Snape and was about to disarm him when he heard a shriek. “ _STOP!!_ ” Hermione came running into the office and planted her feet firmly on the floor between Harry and Snape.

“Harry, don’t!” she begged. “Please…he’s with child!”

Harry took a good look at the Potions master, and he suddenly found himself lowering his wand. There was something about staring at Snape in all his pregnant glory that was strangely sad, pathetic even. As much as he really didn’t want to admit it, Hermione was right. Harry had no right to attack Snape in his current condition; it just wouldn’t be fair.

“Fine, but I mean what I said. I’ll out you both if you don’t talk, Snape!”

Snape’s breath was coming quick and hard as he turned his black glare to Hermione. “You promised that you would keep this quiet, Granger,” he said through clenched teeth, clearly panicked.

“I swear sir, I didn’t tell him,” Hermione yelped, a poor attempt at remaining calm. “Ron overheard Rose talking to me and he told Harry. I’m sorry!”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize, Hermione,” said Harry, now trying to nudge the Head Girl out of his way. “This slimy bastard should be apologizing to us for using our friend, and then to Rose for playing around with her emotions.”

Suddenly, Harry’s wand flew out of his hand and bounced off the wall, disarmed before he knew what was coming. Hermione pushed him away from Snape, who pointed his wand at the boy. Both Harry and Hermione could have sworn that his eyes were glazed over in a way neither of them had ever seen. Were those tears forming?

“Potter, you had better shut your goddamn mouth before I do something I’ll regret.”

“Please, Professor!” Hermione begged. “If we could have just a minute of your time –,”

“Sit down, both of you!” Snape commanded, pointing to the two dark wingchairs before them, on either end of his desk. Hermione and Harry did as they were told, whether it be cautiously or angrily. Snape also eased down into his chair, and he took a moment to compose himself before speaking again. “Now Potter, what do you think gives you the right to come barging into my office?”

“What do you think?!” exclaimed Harry, having just heard the all-time dumbest question. “I just found out that you’re fucking my friend!”

“And so you’re here to confront me,” Snape finished, his voice laced with disgust. He shook his head as he turned his glare away from his students. “Exactly what I expected you to do. That’s just the reason why Rose couldn’t tell you herself.”

“Well, what did you expect me to do?” Harry snarled. “Just sit back and watch as one of my closest friends is abused?”

“Who suggested I was abusing her?” Snape questioned, to which Harry snorted. “Come now, Professor…or should I say Severus?”

“You have _no right_ to call me that.”

“Oh, but Rose does?” Harry raised his eyebrows, further mocking the Potions master. Snape was apparently caught off-guard by that, suddenly speechless. Harry continued. “And what exactly would you say you are doing with Rose? It’s not exactly normal for an older man such as yourself to have a real relationship with someone young enough to be your kid. Seeing that the two of you have already gotten busy, I can only come to one conclusion. You’re using her body, and toying with her emotions, all for your own enjoyment! I call that abuse!”

Snape was absolutely speechless, a truly strange sight to the two students. His eyes dropped down to the floor as he leaned on the surface of his desk. He pressed a hand to his forehead, his breath began to hitch, and panic was written all over his face. But still, Harry went on. “And what more, how do we know that you haven’t done this before? There could be throngs of women out there whom you used for pleasure in the past, too ashamed to come forward with the truth. But you know? The worst part is just how well you’ve played Rose like a fiddle. You have her so convinced that you _actually_ love her. I’m sure that’s far enough from the truth, right? And if all that’s not foul enough, you took her virginity, didn’t you?! You should be ashamed of yourself for what you’ve done! A woman’s heart is not something you fool around with! Did you learn nothing from my mother?!”

“Harry, _SHUT UP!!_ ” Hermione screamed. She stood up and actually slapped Harry across the face. “How cruel can you be?! Can’t you see that you’re upsetting him?”

Harry looked up, a hand on his red, raw cheek. He was jolted at the sight of Snape leaning in on himself, quietly weeping into his hands. “Oh shit,” he groaned as Hermione left the side of his chair and went over to the distraught man. She bent over and placed a hand on his upper back. “It’s alright, sir,” she comforted, her voice unsteady. “He’s not thinking.” Their professor struggled to regain control, gasping and choking even after the tears had ceased. Hermione turned back to Harry with furious speed.

“Are you happy now, Harry?” she snarled. “Is this what you wanted?”

“I didn’t know I was going to make him cry, Hermione,” Harry growled through gritted teeth.

“It might have crossed your mind if you took his condition into account.”

“I don’t give a damn about his condition!” Harry threw his hands into the air. Hermione’s eyes flared with all the anger she had. “Well you should!”

“ _Silence!_ ” Both Harry and Hermione were stopped by Snape slamming his fist down onto his desktop. His eyes were bloodshot and the trails of tears still stretched down his pale face. He glared at Hermione, pointing at the empty chair before them. Obviously, he wanted her to sit down. Hermione seemed to be very reluctant to leave his side, but she slowly crept back over to her seat and sat on the edge of the cushion. Then Snape’s glare shifted to Harry. Harry had been subjected to such a stare many times in the past, but that was nothing compared to this. Snape’s pitch black eyes didn’t just bore into him; they sent a trail of fire burning all the way down his spine.

“Potter, it is astounding how you can take one bare piece of information, twist it around in your simple mind, and turn it into something that just isn’t so. Who do you think you are to say such things? What gives you the right to invade people’s lives in the way you’ve displayed tonight?”

“I had no choice, sir,” Harry shook his head. “What you’re doing to Rose is inexcusable.”

“Did she give you the impression that she needed help?” asked Snape. Harry was quiet for a moment, almost not wanting to answer this. Snape’s eyes never left him. “Well, did she?”

“Alright, no she didn’t. But she didn’t have to say it to –,”

“To let you know that she was in trouble,” Snape finished for him. He wiped the drying tears from his face with the cuff of his sleeve. “It sounds to me like you are saying something about Rose, like she is not capable of taking care of herself.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Harry felt his frustration building in his temples again. “I just think that she might be blind to the fact that she’s being fooled.”

“Bollocks, Harry!” barked Hermione. “You called Rose a stupid witch to her face not a half hour ago.”

“At least I didn’t call her a whore.” Harry should have realized that throwing Ron under the bus was a useless defense, but at the moment, his ability to care had gone right out the window.

“You leave Ron out of this!” squealed Hermione, reaching out like she wanted to claw Harry’s eyes out.

Snape’s black eyes dashed between them, widening with each comment. He laid his hands flat on the table and leaned in towards them. “You called her stupid?” His voice was barely a whisper, but still so dangerous. “And Weasley called her a whore?” His eyes glazed over again. His breath deepened as he tried to blink back the hot tears. Harry struggled with how to react to this hormone-fueled rage.

Hermione quickly turned to the Potions master. “In defense of Ron, what was he supposed to say? He found out that our friend was being bedded by a teacher.”

“Granger, just shut up,” Snape warned with a slow shake of his head. This time, Hermione finally did what she was told and stopped talking. But then Snape’s attention turned back to Harry. “Tell me this, Potter. If Rose is the victim, and I’m the monstrous abuser, then why must you say such things to her? Stupid? A whore? Even you know that she is neither!”

“I couldn’t reason with her.”

“So then you insult her?!” Snape shot up out of his chair, with shockingly great ease for his current size. He clenched his hands into fists firmly at his side. Harry, although slightly unsteady, was not intimidated enough to stop himself from rising out of his own chair. “Well sir, at least she’s not my little sex toy.”

“For the last time, Potter, _I am NOT using her!_ ” It was so fierce and furious that Harry abruptly jumped back. He ran for his wand, if anything, to protect himself. But just before Harry’s fingers could touch the wood, Snape gasped sharply and doubled over, grasping his swollen belly. Harry instantly panicked, as did Hermione, who knocked her chair off its feet as she rushed over to Snape.

“What is it?! What’s wrong?” she breathlessly asked, helping the ailing man to ease back down into his chair. Harry held his breath, his heart ramming against his ribs. If something was wrong with the baby, and the stress that he caused brought it on, then Harry would never be able to forgive himself. The child was still innocent, regardless of his capacity to care about Snape or his pregnancy. “Should I call for Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione persisted, reaching into her robes and searching for her own wand. The poor girl looked like she was ready to burst into tears at any moment.

“Calm down, I’m alright.” Snape waved Hermione off. He leaned back into his chair and sighed, resting a hand on his bump. He once again dabbed his eyes dry as he took slow, deep breaths.

“Wha…what was that?” Harry stammered, unsure if he should have even asked.

“Kick…very…hard…kick,” Snape explained in between breaths. Both Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows, rather impressed by the sheer strength of a six month-old fetus.

“Does it really hurt that much for you?” asked Harry. He hoped that light questioning would help to cut the tension circulating through the room. He caused it after all, so he ought to be the one to finish it.

“There is nothing in life that can prepare you for the sensation of having your liver and kidneys knocked about from the inside,” said Snape. “But by some scrap of mercy, it is temporary.”

Hermione didn’t seem to be convinced. “Are you sure that you’re alright?” she asked.

“Do I look panicked to you?” Snape’s voice had begun to return to a relative calm. Within a few moments, his breath slowed down. He nodded to Hermione. “I’m alright, Granger. Please, just sit down.” Hermione obeyed him, though Harry could tell that she wasn’t willing to take any chances. Once she was back in her chair, Snape looked at Harry.

“So Potter, what does it take?” he asked. “What does it take to make you believe me?”

Harry was taken aback by Snape’s quiet, almost weak words. “Forgive me, sir, if I don’t see you as one to be easily trusted.”

“Sweet Merlin, what must I do to convince the great Harry Potter of my honesty?” begged Snape. “For Rose’s sake, what do I have to do?”

As he had many times that night, Harry was left speechless. _‘For Rose’s sake…’_ It seemed to echo through his head as he struggled to comprehend what he had heard. He would have expected the pregnant bastard to beg for his own sake, perhaps even for that of his unborn child. But this was the last thing Harry would have thought he would hear from the man’s mouth. And the sheer honesty of Snape’s voice shot right through Harry’s exhausted heart.

“I…uh,” he stammered, his fury-fueled confidence gone. He almost expected Snape to press him for an answer like he would in class, but there was only silence. Oddly enough, that made Harry feel more uneasy. Finally, he asked the only question he felt could be asked. “Is Rose telling the truth? Do you care about her?”

Snape’s eyes travelled down to his bulging middle, his hand running down the curve. He sighed as his eyes drifted closed and said, “More than you know.”

A knot formed in Harry’s throat as he stared at Snape, so stunned by his vulnerability. “Sir…do you love her?” he asked, his voice shaking. Snape locked eyes with him, and Harry held his breath.

“Yes…I do,” he said. Harry couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his throat. His eyebrows contorted as his mouth hung agape. Snape cocked his head to the side. “What Potter, is it that impossible to believe?”

“If I’m honest, sir,” said Harry. “If I hadn’t already known about my mother, I wouldn’t have thought you knew the meaning of the word.”

“Another fine example of your diminished capacity.” Snape rolled his eyes to the side.

“But why Rose?” Harry asked, his voice box constricting. “After all those years, why Rose? Why not one of the Slytherin girls?”

“I value more than what my house suggests, Potter,” said Snape. “But perhaps I should put it to you this way. Why do you like Rose as a friend?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders slightly. “Because she’s kind, encouraging, clever, she’s generous with her time, and she’s always there when she’s needed.”

“Well, that’s what appealed to me,” Snape explained. “You likely couldn’t give a flying fuck about it, but I have been to Hell and back in the last few months, and Rose helped to pull me out of a really deep hole. I was done fighting after so many years, and I was ready to give up. But Rose would not let me do that. Her love was what I needed to survive.”

“I didn’t even think you could love someone else,” said Harry, shaking his head. And it was true. Since May, not a day had gone by when Harry didn’t think about those haunting images of his mother and Snape in their youth. They might have been blurred by his wavering hatred for the adult Snape, but they never went away completely. And after reliving those memories over and over again in his head, Harry had been all but convinced that Snape could never love another the way he loved Lily Potter.

“That does seem to be the popular belief around here,” said Snape. He twitched his brow to his right, and Harry glanced over at Hermione’s blushing face. “Look Potter, I am not apologizing for anything that’s happened between myself and Rose. I understand if you are offended as her friend, but you are only just her friend. Rose’s life concerns more than what sort of nonsense she gets into with you, and she certainly doesn’t need your permission to romance whomever she chooses.”

“But she deserves better,” Harry cut in. He ducked his head just in time to avoid another hard smack from Hermione. Snape sneered at them. “Oh yes, a pretty young thing like that deserves better than a middle-aged pregnant wizard, as if I never thought of that. She had an opportunity to have an affair with the legendary Boy-who-lived, and she chose me instead.”

“Hey, I never made a pass at her,” said Harry, pointing his finger at Snape. “Besides, Rose was never interested in me. She said so herself.”

“I know that now, but I would be lying if I told you I never questioned it,” Snape told him. “But I notice that you fail to make your argument. You said that Rose deserves better, better than me you mean.”

Harry swallowed loudly, shifting in his seat. If he wasn’t in danger of being hexed into the next century before, he would be after this one. “Snape, Rose is like family to me. She deserves better than to be with someone that she has to sacrifice her good name for. More than that, she deserves a better life than the one she’s lived thus far. She deserves to be with someone who can give her that life, someone she could spend that life with.”

“And it is your belief that I cannot do that?” asked Snape, prompting a very cautious nod from Harry. The Potions master shook his head with an almost silent sigh. “It seems that you and I finally have something in common, Potter. We both want what is best for Rose. But let me tell you something. There is nothing that I want more than to give her that better life. I want her to be able to live without the burden of being involved with the war. You don’t know how badly I wanted to murder Alistair Beckett for the way he treated Rose a week ago.”

“But it takes more than just words, sir,” said Harry. “It takes commitment!”

“Don’t you dare accuse me of not be able to commit,” Snape threatened, his deep eyes hardening. “Listen, it is so difficult for me to be able to say that I love someone. That feeling just doesn’t come to me easily. I’ll be honest with you, Potter. I never thought I could feel as strongly about someone the way I did for your mother. But it has happened, and nothing that you think to do or say will change it. If commitment is your concern, let me make myself very clear. I am in love with Rosella Beckett. I intend to be with her, and I will do whatever I can to see that it happens.”

“This isn’t just until the term is out?” asked Harry.

“Not at all, Potter,” said Snape, shaking his head. “Might I remind you that I have a child on the way. This is no time for me to go having casual romances without care. If there is one thing that I am definitely sure of, it is that I want Rose to be a part of my son or daughter’s life. A child deserves a good mother, and I can think of no one better than her.”

Harry leaned in over himself, propping his head in his hands. This was worse than he thought! Not only was Rose having a secret, sexual affair with Snape, but they were making a life together! Harry had a hard enough time coping with Rose having carnal knowledge of the Potions master, but the idea of them having anything close to a meaningful relationship was almost too much to bear. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Snape wasn’t supposed to suddenly get over his mother and move on with one of Harry’s dearest friends. Rose wasn’t supposed to end up with a nasty, spiteful excuse for a man while getting saddled with his bastard child.

“Were you at least truthful about your pregnancy?” he asked. He had to say it; no matter how much anyone could deny it, Rose included, Snape’s credibility had been shattered in recent years. This was especially true for Harry. Snape might have been lying for Dumbledore all those years, but he was still lying all the same. If he could lie about that, what else was there?

Snape paused, and his eyes shifted so that he glared at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “What did Rose tell you?” he asked, his tone low, but grim. Harry didn’t know where the lie came from, or exactly what was compelling him to do it. But Rose’s distraught face was floating through his thoughts as he said, “Only that it wasn’t from a previous relationship.” Hermione looked at him in a slight state of shock.

Snape let out a sigh, looking down on his rounded middle. “She was right to say that,” he said. “I have had many conversations with Rose in the last several months, and I can safely assure you that everything I told her was the truth. With a past like mine, I think Rose has the right to know everything, and she does. The last thing I wanted was for her to look at me and see a man with no integrity. I’m sure you have learned, Potter, that relationships are built on trust, and we are no different. I have never lied to Rose, and I never will.”

Harry rubbed his hand over his face, pulling his glasses off to massage his aching green eyes. “I just don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I’m sure you don’t, but I’m afraid you might be too late for that,” said Snape. “Rose values your friendship just as much as you value hers, if not more. She struggled with not being able to tell you about me, but she knew that if she did, we would end up in this very situation.” His eyes started to glaze over again, filling Harry with a new sense of uncomfortable dread. “She thought she would have to give up what few friendships she has for me, something I could never ask her to do. She really does care for you, Potter. But she knows she can’t continue on with you being as stubborn and prejudiced as you are tonight.”

The realization hit Harry like a ton of bricks. In the middle of such an incredible row, offending Rose so carelessly, he never once thought of what would happen once it was all said and done. Harry was only thinking of his respect for Rose, tarnished by her scandalous affair. It never once crossed his mind that he would lose Rose’s respect, and her friendship. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“I think that is a question better directed at Rose,” Snape replied. “You will find that my cooperation only extends as far as hers does.”

“But what if she won’t speak to me?”

“Then that is the choice she has made. But before you start harping about the wrongs of others, Potter, you should remember that you only brought this on yourself. This didn’t have to happen, and it likely wouldn’t have if you had taken one second to think about what you were doing.”

Disgrace had sunk so deep into Harry’s stomach that he felt like he was about to vomit all over the place. How astounding it was that Snape could be the one in hot water, and yet he was still able to turn that on someone else. Harry had heard Snape tell him how foolhardy and arrogant he was so many times over eight years, but he hadn’t felt the real impact of it until now. He had jumped right at the opportunity to attack Snape, not considering how it would affect anyone else. His only concern was to get justice, to see that great wrongs were paid for. And he never considered how his rash action could destroy a strong friendship in only a matter of hours. His cold, harsh words in the common room echoed through his head, drowning out all other thoughts.

Rose would never be able to forgive him for this.

“Now, I want the two of you to return to your common room, and stay there,” said Snape, brandishing his wand to open his office door. “If you are wise, you won’t mention a word of this to anyone, but I fear I cannot control you anymore than I have been able to in the past, Potter. But before you go making any more hasty decisions, I only ask one thing of you. Consider what would happen to Rose as a result. I’m not the only one that has a lot to lose in this affair.”

Harry sat still for a moment, focusing on his quiet breathing. It wasn’t until Hermione tapped him on his shoulder that he realized that they really did have to go. His best friend gently guided him out of the room, giving Snape a last glance as they left the pregnant wizard alone in his office.

It took everything Harry had to keep himself steady. That violent rush of adrenaline had finally drained away, leaving his body and limbs a bit shaky and weak. And of all the things that were colliding with each other in his head, none of them were right to say. He had been through more in his life than everyone else in the castle combined, but never had Harry felt like such an errant fool. He had never felt so much regret for doing the right thing.


	66. Just for this moment

“Would you look what you’ve done now, Harry,” Hermione scolded in a whisper. They were still scaling the endless steps in the grand staircase when the Head Girl finally spoke up after an eternity of silence. “You just had to take things into your own hands once again, and all you did was make a bad situation worse!”

“I was trying to defend Rose,” said Harry, carrying his rumpled invisibility cloak at his side. He was feeling no better about himself now than when they left the dungeons.

“Well, if you had bothered to listen to a single word Rose was saying, you would have figured out that she didn’t need defending. Then again, you wouldn’t have believed her anyway. She didn’t know what she was talking about, after all.”

“Alright Hermione, I get it!” Harry ground against his Adam’s apple. “But give me some slack here. Don’t tell me that you didn’t want to call the Aurors on Snape when you found out about him and Rose.”

“I did at first, but unlike you, I decided to give Rose a chance,” said Hermione. “Listen Harry, I share a room with the girl. I know she’s not as hapless and innocent as you think she is. But at the same time, I know she’s not dumb either. She wouldn’t do something like that if she didn’t know what she was getting into. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, Snape too.”

“This just isn’t right,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Rose deserves better than that greasy, knocked up bastard.”

“But he makes her happy,” Hermione interjected. “I’ve talked to Rose about Snape a bunch of times, and you should see the look on her face when she thinks of him. They’re really happy together, and they’re looking forward to the baby coming.”

“We shouldn’t even have to think about babies until we’re out of school,” said Harry. “Something’s not right with this, Hermione. Rose is pinning too much on Snape too soon. She just can’t be in her right mind.”

“And what do you propose is the reason for that?”

“Well, we know she’s had a tough life. I mean, we all saw what a dick her father is. He wasn’t around for all those years, and now she’s making up for it with Snape. For all we know, she could not be over Macleod yet, and she’s desperate for affection.”

“You dare say that to her face, and you will regret it.” Harry looked down Hermione’s slender finger. “If Rose doesn’t hex you inside-out for that, then I will. Do not insinuate that her feelings are that expendable, or that Snape’s no good for her.”

“What else can I say about him?” asked Harry. “We’ve never known that man to be affectionate. Up until recently, I didn’t know he was even capable of affection.”

“But that’s only what we see,” said Hermione. “Don’t you see, Harry? Snape has been considered a miserable git for so long, it’s almost impossible for that image to change. From what Rose tells me, he only allows himself to drop that act when he’s hidden away from the world. The man that she knows is virtually nothing like the man we’ve come to expect since our first year.”

“That still doesn’t mean he’s right for Rose,” said Harry. “I don’t know about you, but I still think he’s taking advantage of Rose.”

“Do you really think that Snape’s ability to love is so weak? Harry, he longed for your mother’s love for years, he never gave that up!”

“And he miraculously forgets that for one girl? Seems suspicious if you have to ask me. Why now and not ten years ago?”

“The heart works in mysterious ways, Harry. Why would Rose fall in love with Snape so soon after losing Macleod? But even if the timing is odd, that doesn’t make it any less real to them. Be honest with me, Harry. If Snape didn’t care about Rose, would he have cried over her?” Harry shuddered at that unpleasant, very recent little memory.

“I never want to see a grown man cry again, I don’t care if he is pregnant,” he said. “Listen Hermione, I know you’re a romantic at heart, but I’m just not like you. I just cannot sit back and let this happen.”

“Unless you want to lose Rose as a friend, you might have to,” said Hermione, stopping on the top ledge of the sixth floor steps. “Harry, I love Rose too. I want her to be happy. And whether we like it or not, she’s happy with him. Might I remind you that you were never one for minding the rules either. It seems pointless for you to lecture the rest of us about what we should be doing.”

Harry gripped the ancient stone of the stair railing, wanting nothing more than to bash his pounding head into the wall. He was so stupid – no – beyond stupid! Harry knew he had his tendencies to be brash and outgoing, but the idea that he was stalking around Hogwarts like he ran the place was making him feel terribly ill. And the realization of what that idiocy had done to those closest to him made him have fleeting thoughts of throwing himself off the Astronomy tower.

“Do you think she’ll talk to me after all this?” he asked Hermione, who came up to touch his shoulder.

“There’s only one way to find out,” she told him, and she steered Harry up the last flights of steps.

**~HP~**

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Rose was sinking further into the plush sofa cushions, her arms crossed over her barely rising chest. Her cheeks were still wet from the tears she had smeared away. Ron walked a short distance away. The tall, ginger wizard was pacing in front of the fireplace, his wand clenched tightly in his hand. Rose watched his silhouette pass in front of the flames, glancing away to avoid the contemptuous glare that peeked out of the darkness every so often. The two of them had not uttered one word to each other since being left alone in the tower, and by the way Rose pushed herself down to become an angled ball, it was evident that she intended to keep it that way.

Ron kept looking over his shoulder at his companion, feeling his disgust bubbling up in his stomach. The flood of images currently assaulting his mind were giving him a migraine for the ages, creating some very inventive insults that just danced on the tip of his tongue. But the fact that Rose was already angry and had her wand on her person kept Ron at bay.

“I’ve got to ask you,” he finally said. “What were you thinking?”

Rose’s red-stained blue eyes shifted over to him briefly before travelling back to a spot on the opposite wall. “One might argue that I wasn’t thinking,” she said in a low, weary voice. All that fight had simply drained out of her in one epic row, and now all she wanted to do was sink into the floor.

“What was in it for you?” asked Ron, stopping in front of the fireplace, giving Rose a big, black form to look at. “Was it just for the sex?”

“You are so thick,” Rose moaned quietly. “I proclaim that I’m in love with the man, and you ask me if I just wanted sex? Is that all love is to you?”

“Hey, at least I found love with someone my own age.”

“Don’t you bloody patronize me,” threatened Rose. “My relationship with Severus is no different than yours with Hermione. We all want the same things, love, companionship, and support. It just so happens that we’re not the same age. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the only difference.”

“I’m still trying to figure out what you see in him,” Ron shook his head. “Grossly unnatural pregnancy aside, he’s not a good-looking bloke. How can you even get close enough for him to grope you?”

“The definition of good-looking is relative,” sneered Rose. “Severus might not be your type, but I wouldn’t change a thing about him.”

“I think you’re out of your mind,” said Ron, catching a chuckle in his throat. “I mean, a straight girl shagging a pregnant man. I don’t even want to imagine what that has to be like.”

“He’s not a bloody woman!” Rose snarled, whipping her head towards Ron. She quickly composed herself and turned her eyes away again. “And I should tell you that the sex is actually great, not that you would ever believe that.” Ron felt a disturbing shiver run down his spine, and he had to swallow hard to prevent any noise that might make Rose angrier.

Ron was about to start his track across the floor again when the portrait door opened suddenly, making both the wizard and witch flinch. Ron turned back in time to see Harry, face long and shoulders slumped, hobble into the common room. Hermione followed not too far behind, looking just as solemn as the Head Boy. Both of them appeared physically and emotionally spent.

“So, it’s done then,” said Ron. Rose cringed on the sofa. Her eyes closed and she panted slowly, holding back the tears that were clenching up her throat. That fact however seemed to be lost on Ron, who just crossed his arms and asked Harry, “When’s Snape being sacked?”

“He’s not,” said Harry, falling back into the arm chair next to the fire.

Ron’s eyes popped open, and he choked on the gasp that was thrust out of his lungs. He coughed hard. “What?!”

“What?!” yelped Rose, her head jerking upwards.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ron sputtered, his hands flying up in the air. “Snape is supposed to be fired for doing something like this! Dumbledore wouldn’t go back on his word.”

“Dumbledore doesn’t know about this,” replied Harry. “I was going to tell him, but Snape said some things that stopped me.”

“He threatened you, didn’t he? He’s probably got some crazy lie that could get all three of us expelled!”

“No Ron,” Harry shook his head. “He just said that…that I’ve already done enough damage. He says he answers to you, Rose.”

Rose angled her face away from her estranged friend, holding her elbows in her lap. “What did he tell you?”

“That…” Harry began, only to catch the words in his throat. Of all things he had to be so blatantly wrong about! “That…that he loves you.”

“Told you so,” mumbled Rose. She gently dabbed her eyes free of moisture. Harry tried his best to ignore his friend’s tears.

“Alright,” he said. “So I was wrong. But Rose, Snape may claim to love you, but –,”

“Don’t you accuse him of lying!” Rose growled, but Harry quickly held his hand up to her tensing face. “I’m not…I’ll be honest. After what happened down there, it would be pretty difficult to do that.”

“He made Severus cry,” said Hermione, speaking up from behind Harry’s chair. She crossed over to sit beside Rose, who was looking at her with a hard glare. “Don’t worry, I gave him a good slap for you.”

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry grumbled before Rose had a chance to speak, rubbing his cheek at the memory. “What I was going to say is that even if Snape claims to love you, Rose, this is still completely wrong.”

“You couldn’t persuade him to leave me, could you?” asked Rose, and Harry shook his head. “No. I didn’t get the chance to really threaten him, just enough to get me in the door. There’s only so much you can do when confronted with a pregnant man and his wicked mood-swings.”

Rose sighed, biting the inside of her cheek. “Alright, so you basically ruined my life and you upset a man in a delicate condition. Anything else you’d like to do before heading up to bed? Why not take my locket and bracelet and throw them into the fire? Severus gave them to me; that ought to show him.”

“He was _All-my-affection_?” Ron burst out. “Merlin, it’s been going on longer than we thought!”

“Enough Ron,” said Harry. He hunched over himself, resting his hands on his knees as he looked to Rose. “Rose, I’m so sorry.”

“That doesn’t cut it, Harry,” Rose replied, voice tensing. “You promised that you would never turn your back on me, and yet it took all of ten minutes for you to storm out of here. And the fact that you so blindly labeled Severus the villain once again, blaming him like he was the sole offender, I could just strangle you!”

“But Rose, I really am sorry,” Harry persisted. “I meant it when I said that I was going to tell Dumbledore. The only reason why I didn’t was because of you.”

“Oh, so you do care,” sneered Rose, a little weak. Hermione shot her a brief glare in return, biting her tongue to stay silent. This wasn’t her argument to be fought. Harry felt his chest clench up, and he breathed out a few hard breaths before speaking again.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Keep this between us,” said Rose. “Hide all this from the world.”

“For how long?”

“Who knows?”

Harry’s tired emerald eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Give me one good reason.”

“Because maybe it’s time for you to have a little faith in Severus Snape.” Rose carefully stood up from the sofa and walked over to stand by the fireplace, allowing Ron to take her vacated spot. “I know he’s lied in the past, withheld things from you and everyone else. But the war’s over now. There are no more dark secrets to be had. We must move on with our lives, and you must see Severus for the wizard he really is. He’s a good man, Harry, and he wants nothing more than to have the life he’s been robbed of.”

“He wants to be with you, and raise his child with you,” said Harry. “But Rose, you’re throwing your life away.”

“Would I be throwing my life away if I married someone else younger the day after term ends?” asked Rose, to which Harry had no response. “I didn’t think so. For your information, guys, I’m dead sure about what I’m doing. I have never loved anyone the way I love Severus. You could say I’m wasting my time, but there is no where I would rather be than at his side. There is nothing I want more than to be in that baby’s life. And if you all really love me, you would let me do that.”

“But you’d be kicked out of school,” said Harry, subtly pointing in Hermione’s direction. Rose’s eyebrow twitched as she said, “That’s a risk I am willing to take.”

Harry and Ron sat still for a long, silent moment, Hermione looking in between the two of them nervously. Harry in particular took his time in weighing out all the possibilities, and his massaged away the oncoming headache. Finally as the clock struck half-past midnight, Harry let out a deep sigh.

“Alright…we’ll do it,” he muttered, and Ron nodded his head in silent agreement. Rose visibly unwound her tight muscles, and she whispered, “Thank you.” Hermione offered a tiny smile as she reached for Ron’s still hand. Rose was about to turn and head for the door when Harry suddenly spoke up again, causing her to halt in place.

“Do you…do you think you can forgive us?”

Rose felt a rock land in her stomach, and her heart contorted beneath her breast. It took a great deal of effort to stay still, only allowing herself a chance to swallow. “I don’t know, Harry,” she said. “Think what it’s like for me for a moment. You guys became my friends when I needed them most. You’ve made me so happy when I should have been absolutely miserable. I believed in you, and now I almost want to ask if you consider us to be friends at all.”

“Of course we do,” said Harry, but Rose pointed her finger up, stopping him from saying anything further.

“Do you…because my real friends wouldn’t have done that.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat in stunned silence. In these last few months, none of them had ever imagined such words coming from Rose’s thin, nude lips. They all had been treated with such love and kindness, cared for like they were life-long companions, giving the same in return. To say that they weren’t real friends was preposterous. Hermione moved to speak, but Rose turned her face away.

“When I was young, I was told that true friends would be there forever,” she said. “They would do anything and everything for you, no matter what happened between you. It seems that what I thought to be wise words could not have been more wrong. Friends don’t abandon you when you get into trouble. Friends don’t look at you and only see your sins. I always knew that I was putting a lot on the line in being with Severus, but I never thought that would include my dignity, and not with any of you.” She left the fireplace side, stepping into the shadows, keeping her back turned to the sofa.

“This never would have happened if Natasha and Jonny were still here. They wouldn’t have disregarded my feelings like that, turning their backs on me for the sake of justice. They wouldn’t have trapped me in a corner, shaming me all the while. And they wouldn’t have left me to tread dangerous waters alone. They would have at least acknowledged that I found something good in my life. I’ve been through enough hardship, so they say. I ought to deserve some happiness. Lord knows they wanted that for me.”

“Dante would have wanted you to be happy,” said Hermione. Rose paused briefly, turning to her companions slowly and solemnly.

“Well, there’s nothing that can bring him back, is there? I can’t turn back time, and I can’t reverse the deeds of others. I have to live the rest of my life without that support and protection, both of which I thought I would find with you guys. But I ended up finding it with Severus. You all know what it’s like to have that happen, to lose yourself to love. One of you should have at least considered why I would do something like this, and you should have known that there was no real way I could have stopped it. Do you know what I think makes or breaks a friendship? It’s duplicity. I watched from afar as all of your lives were changed when you were touched by love. I watched you be overwhelmed with happiness, wishing with everything I had that I could know that feeling myself. Even when that sadness sought to drag me down, I said nothing of it to you because I wanted the best. Well…it’s my turn now. Severus is everything to me. He holds everything I have to offer. There is no other man alive that could love me the way he does. And come what may, I will stay with him. If you cannot accept that, if you think this is nothing more than a foolish, tragic mistake, if you want nothing to do with my rightful choice, then I will do a lot better without you. I was prepared to go it alone when I made the decision to return to Hogwarts. It will hardly be a change of plans should you decide to back out.”

Hermione teetered on the edge of tears, and even Harry was beginning to get a bit misty. The Head Boy was absolutely speechless, the full weight of guilt bearing down on his soul. His fingers gripped at his knees until his knuckles went pale, and Hermione raised a trembling hand. “Rose…”

“Save it,” said Rose with almost a leisurely sigh. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend time with my boyfriend.” She quietly crept over to the portrait hole, but just as she pushed open the framed door to the outside, she mumbled to her three dumbstruck housemates, “I’m sorry any of you had to get involved in this. I hate to think that my choices would make other people so miserable.” And with a barely whisper of breath, she was gone, the Fat Lady’s portrait swinging closed behind her.

Hermione promptly buried her face in her hands and wept into her palms. Ron pulled her in close to his side, rubbing her shoulders and muttering hapless words. “It’s okay, Mione,” he said. “Rose will still talk to you. Not unless she moves out of your room, which I don’t think she can.”

“Ron please, not now,” whimpered Hermione.

“I’m such an idiot,” said Harry, shaking his head. “I wanted to help her, and I end up ruining everything. Oh dear God, what am I going to do now?”

“You think you feel bad, I blew the whistle on her and Snape,” Ron added. “Of all things I could have seen happening, I never could have guessed that she would choose him over us.”

“It’s what her heart told her to do,” murmured Harry. “Her mind’s already made up. There was no stopping her.”

“You wouldn’t have stopped her,” Hermione weakly replied. She rubbed the salty, wet trails off of her cheeks. “If there was a way to put an end to this, I would have done it when I first found out.”

Harry looked at Hermione in her distraught state, knowing that she likely would have done exactly that had she not been persuaded otherwise. But since she had shown valiant loyalty to her roommate that night, Harry realized that she had also made up her mind about where she stood and what she would do. Always being a strong support when he needed it, and brains when he needed them more, Harry looked to the tearful Hermione and said, “What do you think we should do?”

“I think you should actually try and listen to Rose,” said Hermione. “She wants us to be there for her. Harry, other than Snape, we’re all she has. She can’t trust anyone else with this secret. There’s no one else she can turn to for help. And I don’t know about you, but I’ll be damned to Hell before Rose has to go through this on her own.”

“I don’t want to desert her either,” said Harry. “But I seriously doubt I’ll ever get past the fact that it’s Snape.”

“It could be worse,” suggested Ron. Harry rolled his eyes with a groan. “How could it possibly be worse?”

“She could be sleeping with a Death Eater worse than Snape. They could be placing the Imperius Curse on her to act as a sex slave. Or she could just have this kinky thing for black leather, lace, and chains.” Though neither of them were in very merry moods, Harry and Hermione entertained Ron’s cheek with a few quiet giggles. If someone didn’t break that tension, then none of them would sleep that night.

But sleep was among the furthest from their minds at the moment.

They had only sat there for a bare ten minutes when Hermione rose up from the sofa. She looked down on the muddled, distraught faces of her nearest and dearest friends, and she told them that there was nothing more she could say to mend the situation for them. It was them who had caused all this trouble and suffering, after all. And even Hermione knew that the circumstances had rendered her completely biased, and it would do no good for her to exemplify that. Besides, Harry and Ron needed some time to process everything that had happened. They didn’t need her patronizing them for abominable behavior.

She left the common room sitting area without a word, and she retreated to the safety of her high dormitory.

Once she was alone, Hermione slunk down onto her bed, crumpling up into a little ball as she wept into the duvet. She looked up only to glance at the black, starry night through the frost-tinged window pane. She had never felt so torn and dismayed at one time in her entire life, and all because of one person. She had told herself that she couldn’t get too involved with Rose’s affair with Snape; invested emotions only served to cause problems. But Hermione had never had a friend like Rose, so much a girl of her own heart. It killed her to think that the other witch would throw away friendships for a man, no matter who he was. And then there was Harry. He had been her closest friend for nearly a decade, and not even war could come between them. To see him so upset and angry was too much for her to bear after all that they went through since their first year. Hermione didn’t know what to do, which way to turn. For once in her life, she had no answer for this.

**~HP~**

Severus was silent as he doused the lights around his rooms, walking noiselessly on sock-clad feet. As exhausted as he was, he didn’t even let out a soft sigh. The traumas of that night’s events were still very near, and they weighed down Severus to such an extent that he felt like he carried the world on his shoulders. The baby sensed his troubles, and Severus tried to take some comfort from the soft strokes he received in response. For a moment, he stood in the middle of the room, his hand touching his belly. Even in his solitude, he had never felt so exposed in his life.

The moonlight poured in through the small window behind him, and Severus looked over his shoulder at it. It was as though a million unseen eyes were watching his every move, spirits waiting to sound the alarm at first opportunity. How he hated this feeling! It paralyzed him when he should have no reason to fear. But then again, there was a reason to fear now.

With a last glance around his dark sitting room, Severus quietly crept over to the bedroom. The door creaked as he pushed it open and closed, prompting a small wince from the Potions master. Making not one sound, he padded over to the bed. He eased down onto the soft mattress, the relief of it unimaginable. Severus allowed himself a short moment’s reflection before easing onto his side, and he rolled over onto his back, relaxing his entire body with the softest of breaths.

He didn’t even flinch when a thin arm came over his torso to drape across his chest.

“Hold me, Sev,” whispered Rose, her words a soft plea as she clutched the fabric of Severus’s shirt. Severus wrapped his arm around his young lover’s shoulders and nestled her close to his side. He cradled her head close as he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Rose hugged him tighter.

“Rose,” said Severus in a soft, worn out voice. “You’re trembling.”

“I just can’t believe I’m here…with you. Oh god, Severus, that was too close. That was too bloody close!”

“I know,” Severus sighed. “I knew there was no way that Potter would be able to handle this. He’s too blinded by his prejudice to think of anyone but himself.”

“He was going to tell Dumbledore,” Rose said with a slight whimper. Severus ran a comforting hand across her shoulders and down her back. Rose had shed her top since arriving at his quarters, exposing her gray bra to the fire-warmed air. Severus resisted the slight urge to fiddle with the hooks, instead focusing his attention into calming Rose.

“If he didn’t care about you so much, he would have, and without hesitation,” he said to her. “But none of that matters now. We’re together.”

“I might have just lost my friends,” said Rose. “And you could have lost your job. And yet we end up right back here. Severus, are we stupid to be doing this?”

“I’m not sure,” said Severus, shaking his head slightly. “Matters of the heart can be seen as either stupidity or wisdom, depending on who you speak to. I personally don’t know where I stand on that. Perhaps I was always inherently foolish, and I didn’t realize it until now. But even if I am, I don’t regret anything.”

“Say you love me…”

Severus felt his heart clench at the pitiful softness in Rose’s voice. She sounded so weak, so timid, nothing like the young witch he had fallen so hard for. “Oh Rosie, you know I love you,” he crooned. Rose tilted her head up to look at Severus with her red-tinged blue eyes, and she touched his face as she captured his lips in a deep kiss.

“I never want this to end,” she whispered, her face barely an inch from her lover’s. “I don’t care what Harry thinks of me from here on out. I just want to be with you, if only for this one moment.”

“A moment may be all we have,” said Severus, holding Rose closely. “I loathe to say it, but Potter’s threats made me see how vulnerable we really are. You and I are only here because of his mercy.”

“You mean…”

“Something could happen any time, love. It was luck alone that Granger was able to talk Potter down and make him see some sense. We might not have the same good fortune next time. It could be someone worse than Potter barging in on us…I could lose you because of my foolishness.”

“Don’t say things like that!” Rose gasped. She pushed herself up to better face Severus, her hand coming to rest on his burgeoning middle. “Severus, it was my fault that Harry and Ron found out, my foolishness, not yours. Don’t blame yourself because Harry took this out on you.”

“It amazes me how you can still defend him,” said Severus, covering Rose’s pale hand with his as they felt his unborn child slowly move together.

“He’s keeping our secret for me. I think owe him a small favor.” Rose carefully shifted until she sat on bended knee beside Severus. The pregnant wizard slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard. “But don’t make this about him. I just want to focus on right now.” She leaned in for another kiss. “For as long as I have you, I just want it to be about us. It’s just you and me here, no one else. There are no rules, no borders, no hesitations. These nights are too short, Severus, and I want to make the most of every last minute. The world is ours, my love!”

Severus let his eyes close as Rose reached out her hand and caressed his cheek tenderly. It was truly amazing how her loving presence could help to ease away his worries, truly make him forget the world outside his rooms. It was a spell that only few could perform, those who had surrendered to love’s powerful embrace, understood the influence it held, and used it to rightfully return that power to its source. Severus knew that he wanted to be with Rose for the foreseeable future, but it took Potter’s looming presence to make him fully realize how strong their love was, that he never wanted to lose her for any reason.

But that might already be out of his hands.

“The future we desire may not exist,” he said. “We may not have a life together outside these walls.”

“Severus, no…” Rose breathed, but she was silenced when Severus’s thin, pale finger touched her lips. “But even though we know that possibility is real, that hasn’t stopped us before, and it won’t stop us now.” The Potions master stared into his young lover’s blue eyes, sparkling even in the near darkness. Even in her despair, she managed a small, timid smile. Severus felt a wave of warmth come over him; Rose still looked so radiant in all her peaks and valleys. He pushed himself forward, reaching for Rose’s face. “Come here…”

He stole Rose’s breath away with his passionate kiss, and her searching hands quickly found their way to his neck and shoulders. Severus and Rose rested on their knees, their bodies pressed gently together as their tongues danced their harmonious dance. Severus felt Rose’s warmth all around him, and it made him want her more. In that darkness, their love shone brighter than any star, and Severus wanted it to last for all eternity. Oh, how could he have come so close to losing this?

The baby suddenly shifted within him, and Severus broke the kiss to softly gasp. Rose obviously felt the movement too because she let out a quiet giggle as she rested her hand atop Severus’s stomach. She let her hand move in small, slow circles, and she tipped her head up to kiss Severus’s pale cheek. “I don’t want to lose any more moments, Sev,” she whispered. “I can’t live without you.”

“When this long night is over, I will still be here,” said Severus. “The Dark Lord himself couldn’t keep me from you.” He brought Rose closer to ease into an embrace, his fingers dusting over her bra clasps. They collapsed onto their sides together, and Severus was about to initiate another snog when Rose suddenly pulled away. She touched her lips, almost as though their snogging had come as a surprise, and she turned her face up to the bed’s canopy.

“What’s wrong?” asked Severus.

“I’ve been told too many times that what I’m doing is bad,” Rose mused aloud. “But for the first time, I actually feel like it…I kind of like it.”

“Mischievous Gryffindor,” Severus playfully sneered. Rose laughed, pressing her hand against her boyfriend’s chest to rest him on his back. She then lifted her body up to hover over his torso, their faces just barely touching.

“We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” she crooned melodiously, and she allowed Severus to caress her face as she brought their lips together again. She felt passionate energy rising up in her spirit, pushing her forward without any fear or worry.

Nothing was going to come between them. Not Harry, not Ron, not anyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The latter part of this chapter was inspired by the song "As long as you're mine" from Wicked, without which, this entire story might not exist, and I shamelessly admit to writing up to this point just to get a scene like this.


	67. The Little Wizard

March announced its arrival with the melting of the piles of snow that had plagued the Scottish hills through the winter. The Hogwarts population rejoiced at this great annual thaw, but the excitement was short-lived as they realized that the snow had been replaced by deep, sticky mud puddles. It was a common sight to see students coming in from Hagrid’s classes with brown stains around their ankles, their shoes making decidedly offensive noises. The boys were frequently made to walk around in trousers that were soaked up to their knees. There was also a certain unpleasant aroma of stagnant moisture. Though the weather was warmer, the students were still a bit slow to venture out into the outside world.

Harry led the way through the washed out streets of Hogsmeade. Ron, his hands shoved into his pockets, tottered on by his side. Hermione followed not too far behind, although she wasn’t walking as much as she was hopping to avoid pools of muddy water, grumbling as she went. They were among the few students who travelled into the village that day, and Hermione was beginning to see why. The grey sky, the mushy ground, it was disgusting! Hermione had only left the castle to pick up new quills and ink, but at this point, letting the guys do it for her might have been a better idea. At least Rose was able to avoid this messy trudge. This was the day that the Muggle Studies classes had made their long talked about trip into London to see a show and take in the delights of the city. That meant that Rose would be gone until that evening, leaving Hermione wishing that she was somewhere other than a swampy village, being led to some nameless location without a warning or a care.

They had turned the corner off the main street when Hermione quickened her pace to catch up with the boys. “Harry, where are you taking us?” she asked, puffing her inhales.

“Somewhere off the beaten path,” said Harry, very blunt and simplistic.

“Well, that’s obvious.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I would feel better if I knew where that was.”

“Keep your knickers on, Hermione,” Harry told her. “I’ve got something I need to do. I promise it won’t take long.”

“If it’s something that you have to do, then you didn’t have to drag us along. Ron and I don’t need babysitters. You could have left us in _The Three Broomsticks_ with the others.”

Harry suddenly stopped and turned to look behind him, the ground squishing under his shoes. “What is your problem, Hermione?”

“I’ll tell you what my problem is,” said Hermione, crossing her arms across her chest. “I’m cold, I’m wet, I’m tired, and I want to go back up to the castle.”

“Hermione, relax,” Ron urged. “I know you’re annoyed without Rose around, but it’s not as bad as you think.”

Hermione blinked for a second before realization hit her and she glared at Harry. “Oh, you told him, but you won’t tell me?”

“I didn’t say I knew where we’re going,” Ron corrected. “But after everything else Harry’s dragged us through over the years, how much worse can this be?”

Harry gave them a small smirk as he began walking backwards. “Hermione, believe me when I say you won’t regret it.” He noticed that Hermione seemed to be motioning to something, but he ignored her. “Just have a little faith in me, and you’ll be thanking me later.” Suddenly, there was a splash. Hermione bit her lip, and Ron almost choked on his muffled laughter. Harry looked down briefly, gave a sigh, and pulled his foot out of the murky puddle water. He shook it two or three times before continuing down the road. His friends followed behind, hand in hand.

They walked a few more minutes through the village streets before Harry finally came to a stop in front of a small shop. Ron and Hermione looked up to read the sign hanging above the door. The swirly gold lettering read _The Little Wizard_. Hermione walked up to the window and peered through, taking in the sight of the racks of clothing for infants and toddlers.

“What are we doing here?” she asked with a small chuckle.

“Remus mentioned that the teachers were pitching in for Snape’s baby,” Harry explained. “I thought it was only right that we contribute as well.”

“Be serious, Harry,” said Ron. When Harry announced that he was stealing them away to some unknown place in Hogsmeade, this was not exactly what he had in mind.

“I am being serious,” said Harry.

“Look Harry, just because Dumbledore made us Snape’s lookouts doesn’t mean that we have to get involved any further than that. It’s not our responsibility.”

“It’s not our responsibility, but it is nice thing to do.”

“Yeah, but for Snape? Harry, a week ago you wanted to strangle him with your bare hands. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“It just seems right to me,” said Harry. “A baby needs a lot of stuff, and if Remus is to be believed, it adds up. This might be the only time I would ever consider buying something for Snape, but since we haven’t been much help lately, I think it’s the least we could do.”

Ron cocked his head to the side as he stared at Harry. “Mate, in light of recent events, what makes you think that Snape would even accept anything from you?”

“If it saves him time and money, I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t,” Harry sighed. “Come on guys, let’s do this.” He reached for the brass door handle.

“Harry,” Hermione suddenly spoke up, stopping the Head Boy in his tracks. He turned his head to her. Hermione still stood in front of the window, her fingertips touching the glass pane. “Does Rose know about this?”

Harry’s body went slightly rigid at the mention of the name, and his hand fell back down to his side. Rose hadn’t had a great deal to say to him in recent days, and rightfully so given what had happened between them. It would have been foolish of Harry to assume that Rose would just forgive him for what he had said about her and Snape, but it hurt to barely get a word from her, in class or out. He didn’t like watching Rose turn a cold shoulder to him as she went off to hang out with Lavender and Parvati. They had all made their mistakes, but Harry didn’t want to lose Rose’s friendship because of his rash decisions. All Harry could really do was to hang on to Hermione’s reassurances that she would come around. Rose just needed time, she said, though Harry was not very encouraged.

“No, she doesn’t,” he said to Hermione. “Even if she was talking to me, I wouldn’t have told her.”

“Why not?” asked Ron. “That’s her man you want to go shopping for. Out of anyone, I would think she would be the best person to take along.”

“I want to surprise her,” said Harry, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Look you two, I know I was an arse to her last week, and I deserve harsh treatment. But I just want to get back to the way things were. Rose is our friend, whether or not we agree with her choices. I’m not abandoning her just because I don’t like who she’s sleeping with. She wants us to support her and Snape, right? I figured this would be a good place to start.”

Hermione glanced at Harry with shimmery brown eyes, looking as though she was unsure of what to say. But after a moment’s contemplation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the Head Boy. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

“I’m not ready to give up on her yet,” Harry mumbled back. With a little help from Ron, he got himself out of Hermione’s embrace, and he opened the shop’s door for them. “Now come on, let’s get this done.” He allowed his friends to enter first before following them through the doorway.

The first thing that went through Harry and Ron’s minds was how dizzying it was to look at all the racks of merchandise. There were clothes of every shade of pastel known to mankind, in sizes that spanned from newborn to eighteen months. On one wall was a wide range of bottles, formula, and teething rings. On the other, there were different assortments of nursery dressings. In the back of the little shop, there was an arrangement of cribs, baskets, high chairs, and other bits of furniture. And here, there, and everywhere, there were huge piles of stuffed animals. The boys felt the room starting to spin under their feet; did little kids really need this much stuff?!

“Alright Harry, what were you thinking about getting?” asked Hermione, looping her arm into the crook of Ron’s elbow. Harry opened his mouth to speak, though it took a few gapes before he actually produced any sound. “I…I don’t know.”

“Good day to you!” a chipper voice said, and the trio looked up at the young lady clerk coming in from a back room. “What can I do for you three today?”

“We’re…” Harry stammered. He hadn’t really prepared an excuse for the trip before setting out that day. “We were just –,”

“We’re looking for something for my brother and his wife,” Ron suddenly interjected. “Their first child is due in May, and we wanted to send something out for their upcoming shower.”

“Oh, a first baby, how exciting!” the woman chirped. “Is there anything in particular that you were looking for?”

“No, no, just having a look around,” answered Ron. The clerk gave them a short nod of her head and said, “Very well, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, just give a holler!” She then disappeared back into the room from which she came.

“That was brilliant, Ron!” Hermione gasped quietly.

“Well, I though since Harry dragged us down here, I might as well do a little family shopping while I’m at it.” Ron thumbed his way through a display of tiny Quidditch jumpers, not so subtly looking to see if there was one for Bill’s favorite team.

“We can take care of that later,” said Hermione. “Let’s get what we need for Rose first. Harry?”

Harry had turned away from the couple and was walking towards the wall of bottles and other infant paraphernalia. “I was going to let you take charge of this one, Hermione. What kind of stuff has Rose mentioned that Snape needed?”

“Well, she said he has most of the furniture. Of course, I doubt we would be able to afford that anyway. I think our best bet is to stick to some smaller items. A baby can never have too many clothes.”

“Well that settles it,” said Ron, grabbing hangers off the racks. “We’ll just get the kid a few outfits, deliver them to the happy couple, and our consciences will be clear.”

“Ron, what are you doing?”

Ron turned back to look at Hermione very incredulously. “I’m picking out clothes for Snape’s baby. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks to me like you don’t really know what you’re doing,” his girlfriend told him. “You’ve got clothes for both boys and girls in that pile.” She gestured to the tiny green wizard’s robe that sat just on top of a purple, frilly dress.

“Ugh, of course,” Ron groaned. “But hold on, we don’t know if it’s a boy or girl, do we?”

Hermione shook her head. “Rose said that Snape doesn’t want to know, though that hasn’t stopped anyone from taking a guess. Judging by the way he’s carrying, I would say it’s a girl.”

“That’s just a myth,” said Harry. “But Hermione’s right. We need to go with something gender neutral” He grabbed a little body suit in soft pastel yellow. “Maybe something like this.”

“Harry,” Hermione cocked her head. “Snape wouldn’t be caught dead putting his child in something that bright. I don’t know if the word pastel is even in his vernacular.”

“Well excuse me, but I don’t see a great deal of black lying around!” Harry gestured to the rainbow of racks around them.

“I didn’t say that,” said Hermione. “I just think we should get colors that are softer, less intense. Something that a man like Snape could tolerate.”

“You mean something like this?” asked Ron, holding out a bodysuit of light green with white striped trim.

“Yes, that’s perfect!” Hermione rewarded her boyfriend with a quick peck on the cheek. “We just to get some more things like this, maybe with some whites to balance it out.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” Ron went right to work on starting up a new pile of clothes, now joined by Hermione. The two of them walked quickly amongst the display racks, grabbing the least offensively colored socks, sleepers, and bibs they could find. Harry for the most part strolled around the opposite side of the shop, looking at the odd item here and there. He was particularly drawn to a small display of sleepers that were adorned with silly little designs, and he found himself fingering one with tiny broomsticks and golden snitches. He was about to pick it up when he heard Hermione’s voice again.

“Hey Harry, is there a specific budget that we should mind?”

Harry felt that go right to his blood pressure, especially when he got a look at the mounds of clothes that his friends had collected. “I – uh – I hadn’t really given that much thought. How much would you say is appropriate?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been generous to Snape in the past. I think we can afford to spend a little more money.”

“We?”

“Harry’s not going to pay for all this himself, Ron,” Hermione said to her stunned boyfriend. “Don’t look at me like that. You and I can spare a few pieces of silver.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll cover a few pairs of socks.”

“It’s still something.”

“Just try and keep it under twenty galleons if you can,” said Harry with a slight groan. “I don’t want Rose and Snape thinking I’m trying to buy my way back in.”

“If she even takes us back after this.”

“Thanks Ron…”

“Oh will you two stop it,” said Hermione. She noticed the sleeper in Harry’s hands. “That’s cute, Harry. What else is over there?”

“There’s one with dragons on it.”

“No, that’s too masculine. What about puppies? Rose’s Patronus is a wolf, it would make sense.”

“You’re quite enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Hey, what do you think about this blue one? Blue can be a feminine color.”

“Alright, just make sure it’s not clearly boy’s clothes.”

 “Hermione, does a baby really need this many socks?”

“I babysat my neighbor’s son during the summer holidays. Believe me, they go through a lot of them. While you’re at it, grab a few of those knit hats. The white ones, yes.”

“This wouldn’t look half bad.”

“Ronald, that’s a onesie for the Chudley Cannons.”

“So?”

“Rose doesn’t even follow the Chudley Cannons. You can get something for Bill and Fleur on your own time. Harry, go and grab a few bottles and dummies. Those will be useful too.”

“Hold on, woman!” Ron abruptly objected. “How do expect us to carry all this? Not to mention that we eventually have to haul of this down to the dungeons.”

“If we’re doing this, we might as well do it right,” said Harry.

“You got any ideas?” asked Ron. Hermione noticed that Harry’s eyes were drawn to the back of the shop. She followed his line of vision, and her eyes lit up as she turned back to him with a smile.

“I’ve got a few,” Harry said with a smirk. He walked over and shoved his pile of items into Ron’s already burdened hands as he started for the back wall saying, “Hold onto to these for me, will you? Hermione, come with me for a second. I definitely need your opinion on this one.”

**~HP~**

Rose felt her shoulders aching as she hopped out of the carriage. Her hunched shadow stretched out across the courtyard in the dim dusk light. Just behind her, her Muggle Studies classmates were mumbling half to themselves about sore feet and numb backsides. It was a thrill to get away from Hogwarts for a while. They went shopping in central London, had positively, deliciously unhealthy lunches, and they sat through a delightful performance of _The Phantom of the Opera._ But the one thing they overlooked was the physical toll that all that walking would take. Judging by the sounds of some of the students, a number of them weren’t used to getting around the old-fashioned way. The jumbled two-way ride on the Knight Bus certainly didn’t help. And Rose was no different. She was sure she would be feeling the crunch on her spine for weeks.

Clinging to the straps of the handbag that hung on her tired shoulder, Rose kept to herself walking into the castle’s entrance hall. She lagged behind a bit, allowing the others to go ahead of her. Once many of the students had hobbled their way up the steps, Rose glanced around at her surroundings, and when she saw that she would be easily missed, she slunk over to the stairwell to start descending. It never even crossed her mind to go up to her common room, if only to make a small appearance. These days, Gryffindor tower was often the last place she wanted to be, only going there when it was absolutely necessary. It was better for everyone if she just avoided the tension she knew waited for her up there.

“I honestly felt a little out of place,” she said as she stretched her legs out on Severus’s sofa. “For parts of my childhood, I lived in London. But some of the Third years were looking at the city like we were in another country.”

“That’s the trouble with pure-bloods,” said Severus, massaging his girlfriend’s shoulders. “They stick out like sore thumbs in the Muggle world.”

“Please, there were half-bloods that were gawking at the sights.” Rose spoke with a slight, but satisfied groan as Severus worked out the knots in her muscles. “I wish that Professor Wicker didn’t have to put us Seventh years in charge of the younger ones. Annoying little prats, those Fourth years. Was I that obnoxious at fourteen?”

“Oh yes, you certainly were. You’re still obnoxious, quite frankly. But thankfully, you have limited yourself only to direct provocation.”

“Oh ha-ha, very funny.” Severus relaxed his hands and Rose wilted back to rest against his chest. She breathed deeply, taking in the aroma of Severus’s hair. “Oh Sev, I could just fall asleep right here.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re staying with me tonight,” Severus crooned into her ear. After a long day of lounging about and resting his strained back, without much interruption from everyone including his unborn child, Rose curling up at his side would be the perfect ending. “Did you at least enjoy yourself today?”

“I did, indeed,” said Rose. “It’s always nice to get away for a day. Oh, before I forget!” Rose reached over to the table, and grabbed her handbag. She dug her hand in, and she pulled out what Severus could clearly see was a box of assorted Swiss chocolates. “I’m afraid they’re not as good as Honeydukes, but they’re still worth the money. I call it a bit of Muggle color.”

“You overindulge me, Rose,” said Severus, though he still pried open the box and fingered through it. “At the rate you’re spoiling me, the baby will be addicted to this stuff.”

“Who said that was a bad thing?” asked Rose with a flirty, impish smile. She stroked her lover’s swollen middle as she leaned in for a kiss.

All of a sudden, there was a hard, sharp knock on the door. The couple froze at the sound, their lips barely touching. Severus slowly looked over his shoulder, which told Rose that he wasn’t expecting anyone, and she swallowed hard.

“Get in the bedroom,” hissed Severus. Not needing to be told twice, Rose jumped to her feet and dashed through the open bedroom door. Severus pushed himself up, taking a moment to be sure of his balance. But just as he stepped toward the door, he noticed Rose’s handbag out of the corner of his eye. He called her name in a hushed bark, and the Gryffindor pocked her head out. A quick snap of Severus’s wand sent the bag flying into her hands. She then disappeared with a great gust of flying red hair. Severus straightened his back and approached his chamber door.

“Who’s there?” he said through the wood.

“It’s…it’s Harry Potter, sir,” the Head Boy’s voice echoed in. Severus’s brow furrowed instantly, and he cracked the door open just enough to peer out. Potter stood there with his hands at his sides and his feet shifting slightly beneath him. Behind him was Hermione, arms loosely crossed across her chest.

“What are you doing down here?” asked Severus, his voice tensing slightly. Granger he didn’t mind that much, but Potter should have known better than to come within fifteen feet of his dungeons after classes.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but is it alright if we step in for a moment?” Harry inquired.

Severus was instantly suspicious. The boy was never this polite to him, even if he actually wanted something. He cocked his head slightly, staring down Potter from inside his chambers. “What for?”

“Do you really want to have this conversation out here?”

The tension in Severus’s head started building. Of course Potter had to threaten him. How else was he going to get what he wanted? And after the shameful experience of succumbing to the boy’s extortions the fateful night he discovered his illicit affair, Severus would not be surprised if Potter assumed he was weak enough to do it again. He glanced briefly at Granger, who offered a hopeful little nod. Finally after a long, overstretched moment of thought, Severus let out a sigh and opened the door to let them in.

“So Potter, what do you want this time?” he asked as he eased back down onto the sofa cushions, his hand moving to his belly to help support the weight.

“Is Rose here?”

Severus thought about that briefly. Rose had barely spoken to Potter since his uproarious outburst, and he seriously doubted that his presence here would be welcomed on her part. But Severus realized that if Potter was seeking her out, using their mutual friend Granger as reinforcement, then there had to be for a reason for it.

“Rose,” he gently called. “It’s alright, love.” There was a silence in the room for what could have been an hour. But just as Harry and Hermione were starting to crawl in their skin, the bedroom door opened with a low creak, and Rose stepped out slowly. She came to a stop the instant her eyes fell on her estranged friends.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“We just wanted to have a word with you, if you’ll allow it,” said Harry. Hermione silently swallowed behind him.

“What about?” asked Rose.

“Well…” Harry started, his eyes wandering like he was looking for the lost words. “If you sit down, you’ll find out.” Rose’s brow was scrunched up repugnantly, but she did saunter back over to the sofa, and she sat down beside Severus. The Potions master wrapped his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to ease her.

“So Harry, what’s this about?” Rose asked contemptuously. Harry hesitated for a split second, though he recovered quickly. The words came to him not very long after that.

“While you were away from Hogwarts today, Rose, the three of us decided to go into Hogsmeade. While we were there, we got to thinking. Professor Snape –,”

“If this is about Severus, then why do I need to be here?” Rose blurted out, rising from her seat to head for the bedchamber again.

“Wait!” Harry spoke up, and Rose stopped in her tracks. “Wait…this about you too.” He pointed back to the sofa, and Rose sank back down. Harry couldn’t help but flinch when he got a look at her face; at one time, it was the face of both a trapped animal and a furious witch. Clearly, she would rather be anywhere else but there with Harry and Hermione.

“What do you want with us, Potter?” asked Severus. “You have shamed us enough as it is. What more could you want?”

“A chance,” said Harry, very simply. “All I want is a chance to explain myself without you two immediately putting up your high walls because I’m through with that. For once, I want to be able to talk to you cordially, but only if you’ll have me.”

Severus looked to Rose, deferring to her on the final say. But Rose just let out a quiet sigh and bowed her head to the floor. “We’re listening,” she mumbled. Harry took in a calming breath, and he straightened his back before beginning to speak again.

“I know that I’ve been a complete arse in the last week. I put all of us into a difficult position, I drew the lines, and I made everyone choose sides when I had no right. And believe me when I say this. No one feels worse about it than me. I know that I can never take back the things I said, and I don’t expect to be easily forgiven for how I treated you. But it’s my hope that this can help soothe things over. If anything, just think of it as a peace offering.” Harry slowly approached the door, and he poked his head out through the crack. “Bring it in, Ron.”

Rose and Severus watched in stunned silence as the ginger-haired wizard entered, carrying a brand new wicker Moses basket, tastefully dressed in white linens. Laid out inside it was an array of items; a variety of clothing, dozens of bibs, booties, and blankets, dummies and bottles, and even a stuffed green dragon, toothless with overly cute button eyes. Severus’s face fell, and Rose gripped his hand in her lap.

“Oh guys,” she whispered. “How did you –,”

“It was nothing,” Hermione cut in. “Since we’re helping to keep this baby a secret, it seemed appropriate that we contribute too. We all chipped in.”

“Yeah, and it didn’t come cheap,” said Ron, rolling his eyes slightly. Hermione tactlessly batted him in the arm, though Ron didn’t flinch. Harry shook his head at his romantically bickering friends.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “But Hermione’s right. I brought up the idea because it was only right. I’ve been charged with hiding your pregnancy, Professor, and so far, I haven’t been much help. I want to change that now. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I’m sorry for how they have affected you. I hope you find all this stuff suitable. Your kid is a hard one to shop for, sir.”

Ron set the basket down on the table before the sofa, and Severus carefully fingered his way through the goods. The whole time, Rose sat in her continued silence, her eyes shifting between her older lover, and her three housemates across the room. She grasped the little green dragon, and she held it delicately in her hands.

“You don’t have to thank us,” said Harry, his hand on the door handle. “After the rubbish I’ve caused you over the years, we ought to make it up to you somehow. Come on guys.” He opened the door, and Ron and Hermione left together. Just before he followed, he turned to the secret couple and said, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose.” He then left without another word.

Hermione and Ron were waiting for him outside Snape’s door, and they suggested that he head straight up to bed. But as knackered as he was, Harry waved them off. He needed time to himself, time to reflect on everything that had happened…time to accept what might happen next. Harry sent his friends on their way, assuring them that they need not worry about him, and though Hermione was visibly wary, they slowly continued down the dungeon hallway, disappearing around a corner.

Harry rubbed a hand over his forehead, and he was about to head off in some nameless direction when he heard a soft whisper behind him. “Harry…” He turned back in time to see Rose slip through the small opening in the doorway.

“Rose…I thought you would rather be spending time with Professor Snape.”

“You didn’t think I could let you go that easily, did you?” The redheaded witch closed the door behind her, and Harry felt his tense muscles relax slightly. It was nice to know that the Potions master would not be included in this exchange. Rose laced her fingers together, and she let her hands hang just at her waist. “Harry, that was…god, how do I say this? That was amazing. You guys didn’t have to do that.”

“It was nothing, really,” said Harry. “Just doing our part for the little one.”

“There has to be more to it than that, Harry,” Rose replied, shaking her head slightly. “Why did you really buy that gift?” Harry took a deep, painful breath. There was just no easy way with this girl. If it wasn’t her tenacious need for the truth, it was her ability to instill guilt. But then again, Harry felt that he couldn’t sink any deeper at this point. For better or worse, he sighed.

“I thought it would break the tension between us,” he told her. “I hoped that if I showed some generosity towards Snape, it would get me back in the door with you.”

“Did you think I could be swayed so easily?” asked Rose, not angry, but not cheerful either.

“Of course not,” said Harry. “I knew that it wasn’t a good chance, but it was still a chance. Stupid really…buying my way back into your good graces. If you could be bought that easily, you would be kissing your father’s boots. Maybe you were right, maybe I am pigheaded. ” He turned to leave Rose alone. “You don’t have to tell Snape that I said that. Lord knows he’ll have nothing nice to say about it.”

“Harry, wait!” Rose said quickly, causing Harry to stop and turn back to her. Rose gave a deep sigh, shaking her head inwardly before looking up at the Head Boy and staring into his emerald eyes. “I’m sorry that I said those things to you, that you were pigheaded and ignorant. My anger got the best of me that night, and Severus’s opinions made sense at the time. But I realize now that you were just trying to protect me.”

“We were both wrong,” Harry finished her thought, and Rose nodded. “We were. Although, I think if someone was threatening to take Ginny away from you, you would have done the same thing.”

Harry nodded timidly. “You’re right, I would have. I’ll be honest, Rose, seeing you that angry was scary. You looked like you could have taken down the biggest, burliest Death Eater without a problem.”

“I would have taken down Voldemort himself if it was to defend Severus,” admitted Rose. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

“He means a lot to you,” mused Harry.

“He means everything to me.” Rose allowed herself a small smile as she thought of the man behind the chamber door. “I know you want what’s best for everyone, including me. But I need all of you to understand me. I know what I’m doing, and all I ask is that you let me live my life the way I want. And what I want is Severus Snape.”

“I know that, Rose,” said Harry. “And I guess that since I have your attention, I want you to know that you will have that from me.”

Rose’s eyes widened at the words, and her lips dropped open. “Harry…are you serious?”

“You said it yourself, Rose. I want what’s best for you. Don’t get me wrong, I will never like Snape. He’s a git through and through. But if he’s what makes you happy, then who am I to talk. I don’t want to sacrifice your good friendship because I don’t like what you’re doing. We all love you, Rose, and we want you around for a long time.”

Rose stood still for a moment, a certain glimmer in the corner of her eye. But then she smiled and stepped forward to envelope Harry in a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Harry, letting go of his female Gryffindor counterpart. “Just don’t go in there and tell Snape that was a guilt gift. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Rose. “I know he won’t say it to you directly, but he really appreciates this. He’s worried a lot about providing for the baby, and every gift helps ease his mind. And don’t assume that he thinks that lowly of you, Harry. To tell you the truth, I think you remind him of your mother when you do things like that.”

Harry couldn’t help but be a little surprised by such a statement. Of all people who would think to mention Snape’s emotional connection to his mother, Rose had to be the last to come to mind. “He talks to you about her?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine that Rose could know that much of something that none knew of until very recently.

“He doesn’t speak of her that much…actually, he doesn’t talk about her at all. But honestly, he doesn’t need to. I can see it in his eyes. And I know how that feels, so I just leave it be.”

Harry nodded his understanding. As the night was drawing ever closer, he decided that he should finally go and leave Rose to her silent romance. He politely bid her a good night, and Rose turned away to go back inside Snape’s quarters. But just before she could turn the door handle, a thought suddenly came to Harry.

“Do you talk about Dante with him?”

Rose paused, turning her head back so that locks of red hair drifted across her face. “I have,” she simply said. “He needed to understand, and he does. He says he was a fine young man.”

Harry again gave a silent response with a nod, and he finally said his last farewells to his friend. Rose watched him disappear into the shadows before reentering her boyfriend’s private rooms. Severus was still seated on the sofa, looking into the Moses basket and inspecting the tiny clothes.

“All is well, I take it?” he said without glancing up.

“All is well,” Rose sighed. She collapsed down beside the pregnant Potions master, and Severus placed a gentle peck on her temple. “Chin up, Rosie. It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like Potter was going to go against his own record and completely abandon his mates.”

“He could have,” said Rose. “He had every reason to, and yet he didn’t. And on top of that, he goes and buys this beautiful gift for the baby. I just don’t understand.”

“Because he cares for you,” said Severus. He set aside a white jumper, and he eased Rose into his side. “I saw it the night he confronted me in my office. He was furious only because he was concerned for your wellbeing, like any of your other friends would have been. If there’s one thing I know for certain about Potter, it’s that he would do anything to protect those he cares about, including you. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

Rose wanted to be able to give Severus an answer, but the words got lost in her before they could reach her lips. All her life, she had strong support. She had people around her that went out of their way to give her a better life. But all Rose saw when she thought back on that was her own failures. She had failed to stand her ground against blood purists during the war. She had allowed her father to scorn her, and she could do nothing to remedy her mother’s close-mindedness. And it was because of her weakness that someone else had to die in her place in the chaos of battle. What good was there in empathy if one felt like they didn’t deserve it?

“It doesn’t matter, Sev,” she said. “All that matters to me is that I still have you, and I still have my friends. I’ve worried about that enough for one lifetime, and I’m done. I just want to move on now. I want to enjoy my time with you, savor fancy Muggle sweets, make love when we feel like it…”

“And make fun of Potter and Weasley’s taste in children’s clothing,” said Severus, holding up a bodysuit adorned with fluffy little creatures that were meant to be wolves. Rose couldn’t fight the little laugh as she rested her cheek on Severus’s broad shoulder. She rested her hand on the curve of his stomach.

“It could be worse. If Hermione hadn’t been there, you might have gotten a basket full of red and gold.”

**~HP~**

_Darkness was everywhere, enveloping everything in its inky clutches, crushing the very spirit. A great, black smoke was swirling all around, seeking to suck out all air. And there was nothing to be seen in the black that stretched into eternity. It was an errant wasteland, a ghost world that chilled to the bone. And yet above the silence that otherwise would have drowned out thoughts, there was a distant cry, the pained scream of a wretched soul in agony._

_She was on her knees, her whole being gripped with panic and terror. On the ground in front of her was a decrepit old book, its pages stained with filth and blood. And she was chanting. The spells she panted out were old magic, forbidden magic. They were spells she could barely read, words that never should have left her lips. But she had to do it. It was the only way._

_She had to save him from the pain wracking his body. She had to stop his blood from flowing, his bones from shattering. She had to protect him from every blow, every beating, every tormenting convulsion that sought to tear him apart. Faster and faster she chanted, desperate to purge him of this anguish. She couldn’t leave him to suffer. She couldn’t let him slip away, him and the little life he nurtured._

_Unseen in the distance, Severus cried out again, the pain cutting right through her heart._

_She pushed the musty tome away with a scream of her own. What was the use?!  She was casting spells she couldn’t understand, attempting to use raw magic to perform the unreachable feat! But what else was there she could do? Severus was bleeding and writhing somewhere, and she was powerless to stop it. She was fighting off the ultimate reality that every action comes with its price. Her life’s failures were culminating in one dark, horrific shadow._

_The screaming faded into the silence, and she rose to her feet. Tears clinging to her lashes, she looked around for anything, anyone! Her heart was pounding, breaking the bone of her breast. Oh, to be so alone! It was though the dark had come to swallow her whole, taking her love and everything she held dear with her._

_But suddenly, there was a whisper. She whirled around, petrified by what might be there. She was met by a pair of bright blue eyes peering out of the darkness. Dante materialized from the smoke, and she reached a trembling hand out to him. She whispered his name, and the blue eyes closed again. He vanished before her, as though he was nothing more than a breath of wind._

_More faces faded into view all around, the death masks of hundreds. She saw dozens of people she once knew, students cut down in the prime of life, innocents who could have been saved. They came together near the shroud of black circling Charity Burbage, her face frozen in her last desperate plea. She felt her insides clench at this waste of life, and her healing wounds were reopened. They too were gone as swiftly as they had come._

_And then there was Severus…_

_He stood motionless before her, not one tremor escaping his tall form. His skeletal body showed no signs of the unborn, no health at all. And his gaunt face was as pale as death itself. And yet in those deep dark pools of eyes, there was a longing stare. She saw fear, and she saw pain. He needed her, and his white hand pawed at her. She ran to him, arms extended to her love. But before their fingers could touch, he disappeared in a rush of smoke._

_“Severus!!!!” she screamed, hands still outstretched to the thin air. Hot drops poured from her eyes, and she fell to the ground, resting on her knees once again._

_“He won’t come…” a sneering voice reverberated. She looked out at the great cloaked figure standing before her. He too did not move, save for the slow tapping of his polished black boot. “He’s ours now. You’re too late.”_

_She shook her head at the hooded man, the words sucked right out of her, her rattled gasps a shrill echo. How she wanted to leap up and run into the abyss to answer her lover’s call! But some invisible force kept her firmly down. The shrouded man swiftly swiped his hand over her, and a massive pain swept through her body. She doubled over with a sharp cry._

_“Aw, you poor little wretch,” the dark figure mocked, circling around her hunched form. “Did you honestly think you could save him? Did you really believe you stood a chance against us? You are as foolish as you are pathetic. How very typical of a dirty half-blood; seeking glory under the guise of true love.”_

_“No!” she howled. Through the air drifted a laugh, but it came not from her assailant. It resounded all around, coming from all corners of the dark, growing ever louder. And to her horror, it was all too familiar._

_“You will never amount to anything,” she heard her father’s voice taunting her from the beyond. “Everything you hold dear will be lost to your weakness, and you will be powerless to stop it. See what you have done already. Look at the blood on your hands. You’re little friend might have lived if not for you, and your boyfriend never had a chance anyway.” The mysterious cloaked figure lashed out and grabbed her arm, twisting it around and pinning it down to expose her inner wrist._

_“You will come to see that there is no worth in valor,” Alistair Beckett declared unseen. A glow attracted her gaze, and fear gripped her at the sight of the red hot tip of a wand. “And if pain is what makes you learn, then so be it.”_

_Her scream tore through the dark as the flaming wand burned through her bare skin._

**~HP~**

Rose shot up in bed, her face drenched in sweat and panting hard. Her racing heart pounded against her breast, making it difficult to breathe. A trembling hand came up to rest on her aching chest, though it did little to settle the dread rushing through her. It built up inside until the pain of it became unbearable, and Rose dissolved into muffled tears, gripping at her forearm and the burn scars she already carried. She could still feel the searing heat cutting through her.

It was astounding how every fear could come together to form the perfect nightmare.

Beside her, Severus lay in a sound slumber on his side, his even breathing the only sound in the dungeon bedchamber. Rose choked on a sob to see that he was unharmed; the dream was still fresh in her mind, and she could hear his tortured cries in her ears. Wanting nothing more than to banish those terrible thoughts, the rattled witch eased back down into bed, and she spooned against Severus’s back. She wrapped her arm tightly around Severus’s broad chest, never wanting to let him go. Her fingers drifted over his rounded belly, feeling the growing life nestled within. Rose snuggled closer to her sleeping lover, letting his warmth lull her back into her unsettled dreams.


	68. Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers,
> 
> I just want to apologize for how some of you felt after the last couple of chapters. It was never my intention to make a Sue story, and I have taken tremendous care to avoid that outcome. But the problem is that when it came to Harry and Ron finding out about Severus and Rose, I never saw it happening any other way. And the truth is that there is a lot more to be seen in future chapters. I hope I can make up for it somehow.

Draco Malfoy had lived a charmed life, by many people’s reckoning. He had come from a long line of ancient Wizarding blood. He had looks that made women of all types swoon. And if it couldn’t get any better for the young Slytherin, he had more money than all the other students at Hogwarts combined. He had everything that every other sorry sap wanted. He was living the life that they all wanted. But Draco was finding himself at point where he wished he never had that life at all.

Privilege, he discovered, was nothing more than a cruel ruse. When you were given great wealth and good fortune, you were then expected to give something back. Everything in life came with its price. And in Draco’s case, the price was losing his freedom to the Dark Lord. From the moment he was born, Draco’s future was preordained. He was destined to join Voldemort’s ranks, to follow in his father’s prestigious footsteps. While he once fancied the idea of traipsing over the filth that dirtied up the Wizarding world, it never occurred what would be asked of him in return. Draco was a pompous little prick. He would gladly mock, ridicule, and humiliate those who were beneath him. But he was not a murderer. If his own life hadn’t been on the line, Draco might not have even attempted it.

That was the moment when Draco’s world started to come apart at the seams.

In the months since Voldemort’s downfall, Draco had never felt more alone. He hadn’t just lost his present and future, but his past as well. Everything he had grown up knowing was a tremendous lie. He had been brought up to think of himself as royalty, and now he had to go on as one of the common men. Not only that, but he was now a common man with a reputation that marked him as much as the scar he bore on his left arm. Draco longed for days gone by, when his pride shielded him from disdain. He wanted to go back to the days when he wasn’t the most hated man on Hogwarts grounds.

Of course, his family hadn’t exactly been of any meaningful support. Though many thought that Draco’s self-imposed isolation over the summer was to dodge the angry public, it was actually to avoid the discourse and disarray looming in the halls of Malfoy Manor. His room was the only safe haven from the worsening dysfunction.

His father was almost like a different man since the war’s end. The wizard who was once so concerned about aristocracy and narcissism had been reduced to a shell of his former self. Lucius’s slow decent into alcoholism was slowly destroying what little remained of their family honor, and what little time he spent at home was wasted away in his private study. Draco felt neglected, disheartening for an only child who had been spoiled from birth. Frankly, Draco found himself questioning whether or not his father actually loved him. He did what he could to save his son from death in battle, but once the danger was gone, he was left to fend for himself. This during this time of horrendous emotional turmoil was something that Draco just didn’t need. His mother tried to help him as much as she could, but Narcissa Malfoy always seemed to be caught up in the struggle of not being the wife of a rich pureblood, and instead just being the wife of a rich man. Draco had always felt lonely in that massive manor house, but he never imagined that he would ever run to Hogwarts just to get away from there.

Thank Merlin that Severus was still around to lean on. In all his life, Draco had never known a man closer to an uncle than the long-time Potions master. He had been there when he was a child, he made his school years a breeze, and he protected him even when Draco resented it. And now, he was the only support Draco had left. But now that Severus was well on his way to becoming a father, Draco was counting down the days to when that support would be over. He dreaded the day when that baby would become Severus’s new priority, and when he would become of old concern. In a few short weeks, he would have to take to heart what Severus had been telling him since they returned to Hogwarts.

Draco was coming closer to the day when he would have to finally grow up.

**~HP~**

The droves of students easily stepped out of the way as Draco walked through the halls. This was not something the Slytherin was unaccustomed to; back in the day, he considered it part of the royal treatment. But the venomous glares he got at every turn now always seemed to tug him right back down to earth. It was as though no one wanted Draco to forget his place. They wanted to remind him that he was a marked man. That however was as far as many of them were willing to go. No one dared to approach Draco in the halls, except the few in his house who still respected him. Although, Draco didn’t want to go chasing after that respect, not when it would work to drag him down further.

In recent weeks, following the advice of Severus, Draco had begun to distance himself from his housemates, the few friends he had. He knew that he wanted to improve his life, hopefully regaining some modest respect amongst the Wizarding world. But it had taken him a long time to see that folks like Gregory and Blaise were part of the problem. Unlike Draco, they wanted nothing to do with the common good. Blaise was nothing more than a womanizing swindler, and Gregory was still a Death Eater’s son at heart. They along with others lamented the loss of Slytherin’s pride for all the wrong reasons, and they returned to Hogwarts only because it would help to keep them out of Azkaban. If Draco wanted a chance at redeeming himself in society’s eye, he realized that it was never going to happen so long as he kept company with the likes of them. Besides, it wasn’t like any of them genuinely cared about him anyway.

But the trouble with that was that Draco suddenly found himself more alone than he had ever been before. He had no words for his housemates, but contrary to recently popular belief, he was not a natural recluse. He needed to be around people, if only for the satisfaction of being better than them. But he still would not sink to the level of interacting with Potter and his glory-hungry cronies just to get their attention. In fact, he avoided them more than ever. With no one left to lean on, Draco had to learn to fend for himself, and he had to take his nasty reputation head on. He would never be able to survive outside of Hogwarts if he couldn’t manage a bunch of meddlesome kids.

After walking for what seemed like hours, Draco crept up on a crumbling old door in a long forgotten corner of the dungeons, and he pushed it open with a low, gut-wrenching creak. The room was as musty as it was dark, with only a single column of light breaking through the boarded window. Moldy crates and storage jars lined the walls, and the air smelt strongly of decaying leaves. But it was quiet and secluded, and that was what Draco appreciated about it. He settled himself down on a makeshift seat of crates, and he crossed one leg over the other. Now all he had to do was wait.

It was not going to be a good night; that much was certain. For once in his life, Draco wished that there was a way to slow down time. But it had to be done. For the greater good, it had to be done. Draco swallowed hard against the knot in his throat.

After what felt like an eternity, the door’s rusty handle rattled again, and Draco pushed his nerves back down into his stomach. He made no move to stand even as the door squeaked open, and Pansy slid inside the room. The door was immediately shut and bolted behind her back.

Pansy slunk across the floor, and she floated down to perch on the very edge of Draco’s box. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, but Draco pulled back slightly from her tepid lips as he allowed her to grip his arm. He felt her chilled fingertips stroke across his pale cheek.

“Don’t do that,” cooed Pansy. “There’s no one coming.”

“I know,” Draco sighed. For as long as they had been together, he and Pansy had retreated to this little forgotten chamber to escape their housemates’ prying eyes. And after three years, he was pretty sure that they would never be found there.

“You know, I never get to see you anymore,” said Pansy, scratching lightly at Draco’s thigh. “You’ve been spending so much time with Professor Snape, you’re hardly ever around.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders at that. If he were honest with Pansy, she would know that a portion of his time away from Slytherin was spent avoiding her and their housemates in the library, in bathrooms, anywhere really. But he wasn’t exactly lying to her exactly. Ever since finding out about the Potions master’s delicate condition, Draco had made many attempts to help his godfather out. He would stay behind after class to clean workstations, and he would pop in every now and then to check on him, as well as ask about any odd jobs that needed to be taken care of. As much as it was an excuse to get away from his housemates, that was only an added benefit. Draco could plainly see that this pregnancy was hard on Severus, and it would get harder with each passing day. After everything Severus had done for him, Draco wanted to do anything and everything he could to make this rough patch easier. But he could probably do a lot more if that Beckett bitch wasn’t always hanging around. She guarded Severus like a rabid dog, and it drove Draco up the dungeon walls.

“You know I’ve been having a hard time, Pansy,” he said in a low voice. “Sometimes I need to talk about things, and Professor Snape always listens to me.”

“But what about me?” asked Pansy. “And what about Blaise and Gregory? If times are so tough, why not talk to us about it?”

Draco simmered in his annoyance at the question. Times had been tough for months, and Pansy was only just now mentioning it. She was always so oblivious to everyone else’s problems, and it seemed not even Draco’s were of grave concern since she didn’t think it affected her. “No offense to them, but Gregory was never one for deep discussion, and Blaise only pays attention to those with dainty legs and breasts.”

“And me?” Pansy reached out to brush her fingers across Draco’s cheek, but he just looked away and said, “It’s too complicated, Pansy. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Pansy. “We’ve been together for almost three years. Who would understand you better than me?”

“You didn’t understand when I didn’t want to leave Malfoy Manor over the summer.”

“That’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” Pansy said bluntly. “You were standing up for what you believed in. You should be proud of that.”

“And if it hadn’t been for the mercy of the Ministry, I would be in Azkaban right now,” said Draco, his voice tensing in his throat. It was amazing how after so much time, she could still be in such denial to what the rest of the world could so plainly see. Draco was an ex Death Eater, a hardened criminal raised to do the will of the Dark Lord. And yet she still looked at him like he was a bloody vigilante.

“It doesn’t matter now, Draco,” said Pansy, rubbing his arm softly in a way that almost comforted the young wizard. “The world’s gone back to normal now, which means we can get on with our lives. Things can finally go back to the way they were.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to Draco’s pale face.

“I know,” Draco sighed. He could feel both the courage and anxiety bubbling in his stomach, and he tried so desperately to shove them both down. No matter how much he could have denied it, the moment of long suppressed truth had come. “However, I feel that’s where you and I differ somewhat.”

“Draco, what are you talking about?” asked Pansy. “With the war over, we can move on with the plans we’ve made. Once we get out of this pathetic place, we can move into our own place and do whatever we want. We can be together forever, just like we always said.”

_‘Just like you always said,’_ Draco thought contritely to himself. Pansy always had this vision of them raising the next generation of almighty Slytherin purebloods, and she had always seen herself growing old at Malfoy Manor. But in all of the one-sided conversations the two of them had shared, Draco had never once considered the idea of marriage. It wasn’t a fear of commitment that stayed his will; he did often imagine himself with a wife at his side one day. The true fear was that of a commitment to someone with an insatiable need for attention, and a distinct problem with letting go of what was hers. Draco wanted to feel like he was part of a relationship, not like he was trapped in one the way too many Slytherin brethren had before him.

“Pansy, I know that’s always what you wanted, but it’s not all about you. I have to think about what I want, don’t I? That has come to your mind once or twice, hasn’t it?”

“Of course it has,” said Pansy. “But you have always been so plain about our future. I assumed you agreed with me. You want what I want.”

“You might have been right a year ago,” mumbled Draco. “But it was too recently that I realized that I never knew what I wanted.”

“What do you mean?” Pansy asked, reaching for Draco’s hand. But Draco pushed it away as though it were nothing more than a feather, turning to his girlfriend with a hard stare.

“Do you know what it’s like, Pansy?” he said. “Do you know what it’s like to live your life with no choices? Do you know what it’s like to have your future planned out with no concern for your own will? For years, I did what people wanted me to do, blindly walking through my life with no real care for what would become of me. It took months of misery to make me see how wrong everything was.”

“You have friends, Draco.”

“I have friends who care for no one but themselves. They don’t care that I have been to Hell and back, that I fucking hit rock bottom! They don’t even care now that their way of life is criminal in the eyes of society. I doubt any of the boys would have felt any sympathy if I had ended up behind bars.”

“I cared!”

“No, you didn’t!” Draco snapped. He abruptly stood from his crate seat, and he turned to look down at his puzzled Slytherin girlfriend. “You didn’t try and get me to get away from Malfoy Manor for my own good. You did it so you could be seen with me again.”

“I did it because I love you,” said Pansy. “Draco, you’re my whole world, and I didn’t want to see you waste away in that house all summer. With your blood and your wealth, you deserved better than to be forced into isolation by a bunch of angry Mud-blood zealots.”

“I hid from them because they were right!” Draco started to slowly pace about the room, trying to keep his hands firmly at his side. “So I was pitied enough to escape Azkaban. Would you have preferred to see me stoned in the streets?”

Pansy stared pensively up at Draco for a long moment, the silence closing in to choke them both. “You would give up on your birthright so easily?”

“I have no more birthright than Raging Rose Beckett does,” said Draco. “But Pansy, you’re completely missing the point of all this. I can’t go on living like this. If the last eighteen years have led me to this point, how much worse will it get? Talking with Professor Snape has made me realize that if I want a life worth living, something has got to change.”

“Like what?” asked Pansy, her body and voice beginning to tense.

“Like the people I associate with,” explained Draco. “I don’t mind being hated for personal grudge’s sake, but I don’t want to be seen as a criminal for the rest of my life. Being around guys like Gregory and Theodore is like an alcoholic being taken to a pub. If I spend more time with them than need be, I doubt the outcome will be that favorable.”

“Draco, this is crazy talk,” Pansy said in a half-laugh. “Those guys are your friends. They have been your entire lives!”

“All good things must come to an end,” Draco said very plainly. He came to a stop in the middle of the floor, and he shifted his feet to stand in front of the box on which Pansy was sitting. “Listen Pansy, I have to start thinking about what’s best for me. We only truly live for ourselves, and I’ve been living for others for way too long. I’ve put a lot of thought into this – mind you, it was never easy. But then again, such decisions are never easy. It’s for the best of everyone. That’s why I must leave our old comrades to their own existence, and it’s why you and I must go our separate ways.”

Draco had barely finished speaking when Pansy suddenly shot up to her feet, shrieking as she said, “ _What?!_ ”

“We all want to be happy with ourselves, Pansy,” said Draco without batting an eyelash at the outburst. “And though I regret to say it, I am not happy with you.”

“You’re out of your damn mind! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“You use me like a platform to stand on, you drag me into your fights, and you won’t let me have a moment’s peace. If that’s nothing wrong, then I must be completely stupid.”

“But Draco, I gave you everything, _everything!_ ” Pansy screeched, but Draco just shook his head at her. “Sex is just sex, Pansy. You can enjoy it without the satisfaction of a real connection.”

Pansy stepped away from Draco a touch, and her chin started to tremble slightly as her cold dark eyes took on a glossy sheen. “You can’t do this, Draco. You’re the love of my life!”

“But you’re not mine,” said Draco. It was amazing how reliable this girl was; no matter what the trouble was, it was always her world that was coming to an end. “I’m so tired of doing things to please other people. For once, I want something for me. How many times do I need to say it for you to understand?”

For the first time in what had to be years, Pansy was speechless. Many times, she appeared to begin a phrase, only to pause before she could produce any words, shaking her head all the while. She looked as though the very last thing she thought would ever happen had just occurred, which didn’t really surprise Draco. He could see that in her head, she was running through every last defense and excuse she could come up with, and none of them appeared to be good enough to argue. Finally, she glanced up at him and let go of a small tear that barely gripped her lashes.

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” she said, and Draco felt the air forced out of his lungs. He almost pours his bloody heart out, and that was the response he got?

“It really is all about you, isn’t it?”

Draco abruptly ducked his head, just narrowly missing Pansy’s tightly clenched fist. Lucky for him, the furious witch did not make a second attempt, for she swiftly turned on her heel and raced for the door. She turned violently back to Draco, and she growled out, “You’ll regret this! You’ll be nothing without me!” She then slammed the old door behind her, making the hinges creak in the stone.

Draco stood silent for a moment, just waiting for the anxious rush to diminish. Truthfully, the only thing that could help to ease the shock of the most frightening task of his life was the fact that he was still filthy rich. Even if he never recovered a reputation, at least he would always have that comfort, which meant that he would still amount to more than that little cur ever would.

**~HP~**

The afternoon seemed to fly by, and Draco felt as free as a bird. It was like a massive weight had been lifted off his chest, finally giving him a chance to breathe. He wondered to himself if this was how it felt to be released from prison. He had heard what Azkaban could do to a man’s mind, but it couldn’t be much worse than these last few months of being trapped in a loveless relationship.

That evening, Draco was quick to rush out of the Great hall after he had finished eating dinner, all too keen to make it back to the dungeons and get to Severus’s office before anyone else had the chance. Having recovered fully from that afternoon, he was eager to tell his professor and godfather that he had broken it off with Pansy. He would be so proud that Draco was finally taking affirmative action in pursuit of his own contentment. And in the absence of his family, Draco wanted to feel that pride for himself. For once, he wanted to feel like he had done something right.

The door was slightly ajar when Draco approached from out of the shadows. Slowing to a walk, he barely felt the hard wood as he eased it open and stepped through into the classroom. Draco only paused for a bare second to catch his breath before glancing around to find Severus nowhere in sight. Acting on his first instinct, Draco turned swiftly toward the Potions master’s shut office door, and he slowly crept across the dungeon to reach for the handle. Draco felt a rush of anticipation, so ready for the praise, the encouragement! He might even get a glass of sherry for this one! Draco could taste Severus’s perfectly aged liquor on his tongue, and the eagerness put a little more strength into the hand that forced open the door. Bugger knocking, he thought to himself. He was through being polite for one day. With the pride and high esteem that his kind was so known for, Draco strolled into the office, coming to a stop in the middle of the floor.

There were articles of clothing spread all over. Severus’s distinctive black robe was draped over the back of his desk chair, and a student’s robe and jumper lay piled on the cushion of one of the wingchairs. Draco was instantly puzzled at the sight, and he turned to the open door to the Severus’s private stores.

Severus had his back turned, his whole body inside the tiny room. A pale hand reached up to grab a high shelf, and his left foot was planted on the lowest step of the ladder inside. At first glance, it appeared that he was about to retrieve a high up ingredient jar, and Draco was about to make a move to do it himself when he was suddenly halted by a set of thin, pale arms wrapping around Severus’s broad shoulders. The Potions master inadvertently stepped to the side slightly, revealing Rose Beckett sitting on the ladder steps, her face at level with Severus’s. Their lips were locked together, devouring each other in a deep kiss.

The shock turned into fury before Draco could blink.

Beckett’s eyes drifted opened a touch, not breaking the snog. But the instant her blue eyes met the gray behind them, she let out a high, sharp yelp. Severus jerked back at the sound, his eyes wide with alarm. He then followed the Gryffindor’s eye line back to the spot where Draco stood frozen in the center of the room.

“ _Draco!_ ” Severus barked, panic tightening up his voice. One hand flew up to block Rose while the other went to his burgeoning abdomen.

“I told you we had to lock the door!” cried Rose as she slid down the ladder to the floor. “I knew someone would come barging in!”

Severus quickly recovered himself, and he turned to face the younger Slytherin. “What are you doing here, Draco?”

“What am I doing here? What is _she_ doing here?!” snarled Draco. He rushed forward and grabbed hold of Rose’s thin wrist, yanking her out of the store closet into the open office. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Rose brought up her free hand in a gesture of surrender. But the look on her face betrayed her obvious distress. “Malfoy, I can explain –,”

“Like hell you can!” Draco growled at her, making her shrink back slightly.

“Draco, let her go,” Severus tried to say, but Draco just ignored him. In fact, his grip on Rose’s wrist tightened.

“Trying to sleep your way to a perfect final exam, are you?” he said. “Who the fuck do you think you are, you little slut?!” His rage coming to a head in his chest, Draco lashed out and flung Rose at the wall. Her back slammed against the stone to the tune of her pained yelp.

“Stop it!” Severus suddenly shouted. He stepped forward and shoved Draco out of the way, placing himself between the two students. Draco stumbled back, falling backwards into the empty chair. “Keep your hands off her!”

Draco sat seething in his anger for a long moment, his pale, empty eyes boring holes into Rose’s form. If Severus hadn’t been standing between them, his hands would have already been around her neck, squeezing the worthless life out of her. How dare she use Severus like this, seducing him to get what she wanted out of him! He knew that there was more to those good marks than pure skill. But who could have guessed that the raving bitch had been manipulating Severus right under all of their noses?

“Rose, go back to my quarters. Don’t answer to anyone,” said Severus. “I need to speak to Mister Malfoy alone.” Beckett looked very hesitant to leave Severus alone, dead scared even. But after a long, mournful stare from the pregnant Potions master, she pried herself away from the wall. She grabbed her robe and jumper, and then slunk away into the darkness of the dungeon night.

Severus stood over Draco like the dark cloud he was, glaring down at him with more anger than Draco could ever remember. “Who do you think you are, Draco?” he asked. “What gives you the right to thrash women around like ragdolls?”

“You expect me to treat that wench like she’s a woman?” Draco ground out. “I know what I saw, Severus. Don’t you try and deny anything!”

“I never said I would,” said Severus.

Draco caught the sneer in his tightly clenched throat. “Oh, so you admit that you were copping off with that Beckett bitch. What is she, your ruddy girlfriend of something?”

“If you must know, yes, she is,” Severus told him. “But I must tell you that if you call her a bitch one more time, you will be sorry.”

“Oh yeah?” challenged Draco. “What are you going to do? Scold me? Tell me that I’m wrong? Give me detention perhaps. I get punished while you go traipsing around with that Gryffindor trash!”

“Stop this, Draco,” Severus commanded in his hard teacher’s tone. “Calm yourself.”

At that, Draco flung himself out of his chair, stumbling to his feet as his eyes flared angrily. “Calm myself?! I walk in on you and Beckett macking and you tell me to _calm myself?!_ Severus, are you out of your mind?!”

“You could give me a chance to explain myself,” said Severus. He was obviously stern, but it seemed to the younger wizard that he was more preoccupied with maintaining calm in light of the situation. Draco knew that stress could affect Severus’s unborn baby, and the last thing he wanted to do was to cause them harm. So with a level of restraint, Draco took a step back and motioned to the Potions master.

“Fine,” he simply said. “You want to explain, then go ahead and explain.”

Severus growled in the back of his throat, and he gripped the back of the wingchair he stood by. After taking a few deep breaths, he turned his head to Draco with glaring black eyes. “This is not what you think it is. Rose is not trying to get something out of me; I have promised her nothing. And she is not doing anything for me in return. There is nothing malicious about our relationship.”

“Your relationship,” muttered Draco, unable to process the word. “You call this a relationship?”

“That is what we tend to call mutual affection, yes. Whether you believe me or not, what Rose and I have is no different than anything you would deem conventional. Age is the only thing that separates us from the rest of the world’s couples.”

Draco swallowed the hard knot in his throat, and the realization crashed over his mind like a great wave. “Oh god, you really are fucking with her, aren’t you?” he said, his breath hitching. Severus just shook his head as he replied, “We prefer to think of it as passionate love-making, but that’s just our opinion.”

Unable to stay composed, Draco snarled through his teeth, and he started to pace around the floor as Severus followed him with his eyes. “What has she done to you, Severus? This is madness, you hear, madness! The bitch has got you running out of your head!”

“Don’t call her a bitch –,”

“I suppose next you’ll tell me that you love her. For Prospero’s sake, Severus! Of all the girls you could have chosen to sleep with, you chose a bloody Gryffindor? And why her out of all of them? What could you possibly see in something so useless?”

“Draco –,”

“What good is she, Severus? What is there in a glory-whoring, Muggle-loving, sorry excuse for a witch who takes a good Wizarding name and does everything in her power to bring shame on it? You can do far better than that. You deserve more than that vile, half-blooded filth!”

There was a sudden, harsh crack as Severus backhanded Draco across the face, and the blonde Slytherin fell back with a cry. Down on the floor, he massaged his pale jaw, the pain from the blow still throbbing through his teeth. Draco then looked up at Severus, stunned even as he stared at the rage that radiated from those black holes for eyes. How could he have done that? The man he looked up to as an uncle had hit him like he was a common delinquent!

“No one, I repeat, _no one_ calls Rosella Beckett filth,” snarled Severus. “She is not vermin to be spat upon at your own free will. And you…I had hoped that I could expect better from you by now. Backed into a corner, and so you resort to that old prejudice! Have you learned nothing, Draco?”

“It’s all I know!” Draco cried out. “I say anything else about her, and you’ll simply lay out why I’m wrong. The only thing I have is the truth. Even Alistair Beckett says it’s so, and he fathered that waste of breath! You can’t get around it, Severus. She’s a half-blood. She’s beneath us.”

Severus stepped back, and he stared down at Draco with a look so horrified that it went beyond the sheer impact of the boy’s insults. “You know, you sound just like your father when you talk like that. Just how is she beneath us? Or should it be how she’s beneath you, Draco?”

“Don’t make this about me,” said Draco, but Severus was quick to stop him. “Of course this is about you! All your life, you thought of yourself before anyone else. Your anger now is not because of any concern for me. It is because of your hatred for Rose and all those like her. I deserve better, you say. You mean to say that I deserve better than a Gryffindor who was raised by working-class Muggles.” Draco sat stifling on the floor for what felt like ages, speechless in his anger, his loathing, and his anguish.

“You can’t do this,” he said, almost pleading with the Potions master. “You’ll be ruined if anyone finds out about this. What if Potter sees you and Beckett together? He’ll be the first to run right to that old codger for a headmaster.”

“Potter already has seen us together, and his loyalty to Rose has kept him quiet,” said Severus. “The same can be said for both Weasley and Granger. And I should tell you that your Defense against the Dark Arts professor seemed a little leery to report us when he found out.”

Draco blinked as the information hit him, and he scrambled to his feet, pointing his finger accusingly. “How long has this been going on? How long have you been keeping me in the dark while others knew?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“No!” Draco bellowed. “I want to know how long my Head of House has been sneaking around with that ginger trollop while everyone else just stood by!”

“I will not be spoken to like a foolish child!” growled Severus. “And you have no control over what I do with my life. I know what I risk in being with Rose. But that has never stopped me from being with her. I would much rather be with a woman that I love than drag through a meaningless relationship simply because it is expected of me.”

Draco felt the statement slice him right through his heart, and his face contorted into a knot of enraged despair. “You would choose her over us…your commitment to Slytherin…your commitment to me…you would give that up for one little whore!”

At that, Severus grabbed hold of Draco’s shoulder and flung him toward his office door. No sooner than he let go did his thin index finger point outward. “Get out,” he seethed. “Get out of my sight, and don’t come back until you can face me like a man.”

Draco moved to protest, but Severus stood his ground and pointed to the door. It was then that Draco saw that this fight was over, and he was the apparent loser. With a last exasperated glare, he shuffled out of Severus’s office, picking up speed as he rushed through the Potions classroom and out into the open hall.

Overcome and overwhelmed, Draco just wandered aimlessly through the dungeons. The world was crumbling all around him, and he didn’t know where to go, who to turn to. His own common room was now a prison cell to be shut up inside, surrounded by people he no longer wanted any part of. He had no friends anywhere else. He always hated coming to this breaking point, but there were and had been times when it had been unavoidable. The only thing that Draco felt he could do was to hide. And in this fortress of few secrets, there was only one place left that was truly his alone.

He turned down the dark corridor where the abandoned storeroom waited for its lonely visitor.

Draco didn’t even flinch as the rickety door slammed shut behind him. Instead, he collapsed to his knees in the center of the room, hunching in over himself with stooped shoulders and tightly clenched fists. He wanted to beat into the hard stone floor, and he wanted to bash his head into the wall. He didn’t know what else to do than to cause pain.

He wanted to make her hurt. He wanted to show her how cruel life really was, crueler than she already claimed to know. He wanted to ruin what was left of her world, and sentence her to a long life of misery. But there was no way he could do that when he knew that he would be destroying not one life, but two.

He knew he would lose Severus one day soon. He knew he would move on to a proper family life. But he never imagined that he would be passed up for love…a sick, twisted love. Draco felt nothing but ill at the thought that he had lost Severus to Barmy fucking Beckett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as I was editing this that Draco does not seem to have a good amount of respect for women in this chapter. I do apologize if anyone was put off by this; Draco is not, nor will he ever be, and true batterer. He just has a lot of issues to work through.


	69. Hatred and Rage

“Severus, I don’t mean to be nosey, but you seem like something is troubling you.”

The Potions master looked abruptly from the window he had been staring out of while Poppy performed her usual biweekly checkup. He hadn’t been aware that there was any emotion in his face, but seeing the look on the Mediwitch’s face told him that he had let his mind wander away from her gentle prodding and spells. Truthfully, it wasn’t all that surprising. As invested as Severus was in the wellbeing of his unborn child, recent events had taken up much of his thoughts, weighing him down at a time when he didn’t need another reason for worry.

He still thought back to that terrible encounter with Draco, and what it had done to them all in the time after. Rose wasn’t herself lately; in her trepidation, she had grown more hostile to those around her. She had been intruded on one too many times, and now everyone was a threat to her relationship. She even started to pull back from Severus slightly, though not enough to keep her away from him at night. As for Draco, Severus scarcely saw his young godson outside his classroom. He could barely look Severus in the eye when the two were forced together. And judging from what he had heard, the boy’s anger had returned with a vengeance. Severus knew he would be walking into this hospital visit with a certain amount of anxiety, but it was amazing how two people could add so much to that.

“It’s nothing that hasn’t bothered me before,” he said.

“Is your back still hurting you?” asked Poppy, and Severus nodded slowly. Poppy gave him a small sympathetic smile. She then carried on with the remainder of her exam, and Severus went back to watching the sky outside the window. He only turned his eyes to look back when he heard Poppy’s quill scratching away at his medical files.

“Now Severus,” she said. “I know I ask this every time I see you, but do you have any questions for me?”

Severus had been dreading that question all morning long. He had known he would have to ask this question sometime, and he had spent much of the previous week preparing himself. But no matter what he did, nothing could really take away the anxiety of this pressing situation. All Severus could think about now was how he wanted this exam to be over, and how he wanted to shut himself up in his quarters with only Rose for company and comfort.

“Actually,” he began carefully. “There is something I wish to discuss.”

Poppy’s eyebrows twitched up and she sat down on the bed by Severus’s side. “Ask away, dear. Tell me what’s on your mind.” That did very little to ease Severus’s nerves, but the pregnant wizard sat up a little, tugging the panels of his shirt over his exposed abdomen.

“I have been thinking…about my child’s future. It occurred to me some time ago that there comes a moment in every person’s life when they want to know about themselves, understand who they are. And I want no different for my son or daughter. But I also don’t want to deny them anything. And in watching my students and speaking to them, it shows that it is important that they know as much as possible.”

“Severus, are you trying to say what I think you are?” asked Poppy, touching the wizard’s arm. Severus sighed before giving her an affirmative nod. “Yes Poppy, I want you to perform the Paternal-detection Charm.”

Poppy looked into Severus eyes, and she saw a strange combination of confidence and fear. While a part of her had been hoping that Severus would eventually make this request, she knew that this decision could not have come easy for him. “Are you sure, Severus? Under these circumstances, I don’t want to put you through anything too trying.”

“I’m sure, Poppy,” said Severus. “The man who raped me will never have any part in my child’s life, but I will not deny them if they come to me wishing to know who their other father is. As a student once said to me, it is probably better to have a name rather than going through life wondering. This isn’t about me, Poppy. It’s about them.” He gently touched his swollen middle with tender care.

“Very well, dear,” said Poppy as she stood from the bed. “Now before we proceed, I must tell you that Albus wanted me to inform him when you decided to perform the spell. Given the nature of this baby’s conception, he felt that this was information that he should be privy to as the headmaster. Would you be uncomfortable with having him here in the room with us?”

Severus thought about that for only a minute or two before he gave a definite, though still hesitant shake of his head. “No, I suppose not. Just as long as he promises to keep himself composed. We are not to go after this man, no matter what.”

“As you wish, Severus. I’ll be right back.” Poppy then left Severus alone in the little private room.

All Severus could really think to do was to lay there on the bed, stroking his fingers over his unborn baby, trying to stay calm and composed. It was almost amazing to him that he was really doing this. Sixth months ago, he never wanted to think about the faceless figure that brutalized him in that dark alley. He never imagined he would ever know who was really under that hood. And yet here he was. Severus could feel the old tremors of the summer irking at his insides, twisting his trachea into a knot.

But Rose was right; it would better in the long run if he knew. His child would never know their other parent, but they deserved to know that there was someone else involved, and they deserved to know why. Severus just had to bite his lip and wish against wish that such a day and conversation would never come. God, how he wanted this day to be over!

After a few minutes, the door opened inward, and Poppy strolled back in, wand in hand. Just behind her, Albus walked with an uncharacteristically serious expression etched into his old face. Immediately, he walked around the Mediwitch to take a place at Severus’s side. “Oh Severus,” he said. “Forgive me, but I simply had to be here.”

“I understand; as headmaster, you have to be informed of this sort of information when it’s made available,” said Severus, trying not to roll his eyes in spite of himself.

“It wasn’t even that, my dear boy,” Albus explained, shaking his head. “I simply wanted to be able to support you through this. I know how difficult this must be for you.”

“I’m ready to face him, Albus,” Severus said solemnly. “I want to know who left me with this child.”

“You know that there’s no going back from here,” Albus reminded him. “You cannot change the results of the spell, and you may not like what you see.”

“I think we can guarantee that I won’t like what I see.” Severus glanced again out the window, resting his hands protectively on his belly. Poppy allowed him a few moments of calming silence before she once again stepped up to the bed, prompting Albus to take a seat sitting to the side.

“Alright Severus,” she murmured. “Are you sure that you’re ready?”

Severus shifted his eyes to the elderly witch, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He felt the grip of the headmaster’s hand on his shoulder. But then he blew out a breath before saying in his deep, intonating voice, “Just do it.”

Poppy nodded her head slowly, and she aimed her wand at the potions master’s abdomen. In barely a whisper, she spoke the intricate charm. A silver mist materialized over Severus, and it hovered just above his pronounced bump. The two wizards and the witch all held their breaths as it just swirled slowly for a long minute. But just before anyone could say a word, the mist began to fade slightly, and Severus’s face appeared from the pale haze. No one moved, on the tips of their toes as the second form began to appear. But when out of the abyss emerged locks of long platinum hair and a thin pair of steely gray eyes, their anticipation quickly turned to shock.

“Merlin’s beard!” Poppy gasped as she stepped back with a hand over her mouth.

“This is an outrage!” hissed Albus, his ire getting the better of him. “Oh Severus!” He went to grab the younger wizard’s hand, but Severus was already gripping both the bed covering and his stomach. His breath was hitching through his teeth, and distressed black eyes were already glazed over with horrified tears.

“Oh no…no, no, no…” he kept muttering to himself, his voice constricting more and more with every denial. The tears started to roll down his cheek as he stared into Lucius Malfoy’s pale, hazy face.

**~HP~**

“That liar!” Rose growled through her tightly gritted teeth. “That vile, disgusting, inbred monster crawls at people’s feet, he gains their sympathy, and then he turns around and ravishes one of his old mates in the name of his precious master!”

“Lucius Malfoy’s life was built around his master,” said Severus, huddled on the edge of his bed, and his hands cradling his stomach. His eyes followed Rose as she floated across the floor in front of the fireplace, her thin shadow creeping along the bedroom wall. “No matter what he’s done, he has always done it with the Dark Lord in mind.”

“And not even Voldemort’s death can stop him,” said Rose. “How sick do you have to be, Severus? How crazed do you have to be to rape another man for a pile of gritty fucking ashes?!”

“Rose, calm yourself,” Severus urged. Rose however whirled around with wild blue eyes. “You expect me to be calm about this?! That drunken bastard raped my boyfriend! He beat you to a pulp and left you to die! Severus, he knocked you up. He’s put your life and that of your child in danger for the sake of revenge!”

“He likely didn’t know about the Dark Lord’s curse. In fact, I am almost prepared to say that he definitely didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t matter, Severus. He still raped you,” said Rose. Her tone of voice was tight, and her gaze grew more dismayed with every passing moment. “He still assaulted you, his only goal being to cause you pain and disgrace.”

“Which he did, and I haven’t heard from him since,” said Severus. “He got what he wanted. He’s done his damage.”

Rose forced out a breath through her tight teeth, and she turned away to start her pacing again. “So that’s it then. You’re just going to let him get away with this. You’re going to let him drink himself to death when he should be rotting in prison.”

“I told you, Rose, I don’t want to take this any further. It’s over, it’s done with. I just want to move on from it.”

“Severus, what is wrong with you?” Rose barked, whirling around and falling to her knees at Severus’s feet to meet his eye. “For the first time in months, we have concrete proof of who assaulted you. Lucius Malfoy has betrayed everyone by taking their pity and using it to skirt around corners and cause others pain. People believed he had changed, and what does he do? He goes and carries out his vengeance by raping you into the pavement. And who’s to say that he hasn’t done this to someone else? He needs to be brought to justice, once and for all.”

“If he has assaulted others, then leave it to them,” said Severus. He looked away from Rose’s burning blue eyes, and he clutched the black robes under his hand. “In the reality of the system, it would be my word against his, and I believe there are some who would be more inclined to believe Lucius than they would me. He is as conniving as he is demented, and he would not drop his little pitiful performance for one second. I would see a rapist, but everyone else would see a drunken war victim.”

“But Severus, we have to do something,” said Rose, her already tense voice hitching with emotion. “After everything that family has done to you, it has to end somewhere.”

Severus couldn’t help but scoff at that statement as he turned back to his kneeling girlfriend. “Rose, you don’t understand. Until this, there were no discrepancies between the Malfoy family and myself. To them, I was a worthy ally, and they trusted my word. They trusted me enough to watch over their son. I don’t know what I did for Lucius to turn on me –,”

“No, don’t say that!” Rose suddenly interrupted. “You didn’t do anything to deserve that. It’s not your fault that inbred savage has finally gone completely mad.”

“He didn’t seem that mad in the moment,” said Severus, and suddenly he felt a shudder as those terrible images started to drift back into his mind. Although Lucius had hidden his identity well that night, there was no disguising that cool, daring, unashamed manner in which he carried himself. Frankly, it was astonishing that Lucius never came to mind in all those recurring flashbacks. Severus silently cursed himself for following the world’s lead and buying into his fellow Slytherin’s pathetic little alcoholic routine. What else would the bastard do to ensure survival than put himself in a victim’s position?

“Don’t make me sick,” Rose bit out. “The man is so blinded by blood values that he wouldn’t be able to recognize crazy anymore.”  She got up from the floor, and resumed her furious pacing in front of the fire. As the light of the flames danced across her face, she turned to glance at her agitated lover’s swollen middle, and her eyes flared in renewed anger. “Does he know?”

Severus flinched, his other hand moving to his stomach. “Lucius? He shouldn’t know that I was able to conceive, much less that he impregnated me.”

“Not Lucius, Severus. I meant Draco.” The venom in Rose’s tone started to noticeably increase at the mention of the younger Malfoy’s name. “Does he know about this? Does he know that you’re carrying his half-sibling?”

“Rose, you have to understand,” Severus pleaded. What way was there to explain something like this when he knew it would ultimately meet deaf ear? “Draco’s mind is so frail. You really don’t know what he has been through or what it has done to him. Something like this could be enough to put him over the edge.”

Rose let out a deep snarl, clutching her fingers together into tight fists. “You take too much pity on the little weakling. If his mind is so frail, he ought to have cracked after seeing you with me. It’s been almost four days, and he seems fine to me. He seems irritable, but he’s almost always like that, isn’t he? You can’t keep coddling him, Severus. You can’t keep taking his side every single goddamn time he trips and falls into someone else’s business.”

“Don’t you patronize me!” Severus suddenly scolded. “I know he has wronged you and your friends many times, but the fact that you are my girlfriend does not mean that I don’t still care about him. Just take a moment to think, why don’t you? Draco Malfoy comes from a pureblooded family, and though he may deny it until his last breath, his lineage is riddled with instability. I won’t tell him about this because I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Oh yeah? What’s he going to do, run and tell Daddy?”

“Yes!” The pregnant Potions master scrambled to his feet and grabbed Rose’s arms, stopping her in her tracks. Holding her in place, his throat tightened with every word he spoke, and the beginnings of hot tears welled in his eyes. “The moment Draco feels slighted, he runs right to his father, without even thinking! Don’t you understand, Rose? We cannot – _cannot_ – let Lucius find out about this for any reason! I can’t let that man come back to claim my child! I can’t let him ruin me again!”

Rose looked up into Severus’s glistening, tear-stained gaze, feeling her stomach drop and her heart twist behind her breast. She could see every bit of pain and suffering in those mournful black eyes, and the longer she stared, she felt an atrocious fear seeping into her very soul. Severus, the strong wizard she so loved and admired, was still so scarred by that horrible night. And more than that, he was afraid of public retaliation. He was afraid of the shame, the humiliation, possibly that he would even lose his child to the elder Malfoy. The emotions overwhelmed Rose to such an extent that it might as well have been her who was raped.

“I won’t let him do this to you,” she said as she backed away out of Severus’s grasp. She didn’t realize that tears had filled her eyes, even as they began to stream down her cheek. “I can’t just stand aside and watch you suffer because of that miserable bastard. I won’t let him ruin your life because of one night!”

“But Rose, there’s nothing you can do,” said Severus, desperation in his tone.

“Bollocks, Snape!” shouted Rose, and Severus stepped back in stunned silence. After all this time, to hear that voice say his surname like that was positively jarring. “He’s controlling you from God knows where, and I’m supposed to allow it? No, I will not let that happen! I may be young, but I can still defend my boyfriend! I fought against his people in war! If that monster were here right now, I’d make him pay for what he did!”

“Rose, stop this…”

“I wouldn’t even bother with magic, he’s so vile! If I got ahold of him, I’d throttle him with my bare hands!”

“ _Rose, stop!!_ ”

Jolted out of her tirade, Rose snapped her head up to Severus. For a moment, she saw nothing but red. But once her vision cleared fully and she got a good look at the wizard before her, her stomach dropped into her pelvis. The despair in his face was unlike anything she had ever seen before. His whole frame was teetering on the edges of tremors, reminiscing of his former frailty. And the tears were coming so fast and hard that they drained the little strength he had left. Again, Rose barely noticed the hot wetness flowing down her pale, freckled cheek as she let out a soft whisper. “Oh Sev…”

She rushed over to her distraught lover, and her arms instantly wrapped around his shoulders. Severus crumbled into muffled sobs on her shoulder, and he leaned into Rose’s tight embrace. Emotionally exhausted and physically spent, he collapsed to his knees, taking Rose down with him. But the young witch did not falter. She simply held Severus close, shedding tears of ire and sympathy, her hand clutching the stretched cloth over his belly. Both of them noticed how still the baby was that night, a grim reminder of the source of all this pain.

Rose didn’t want to feel like this. Nothing good ever came out of her anger, especially a rage this intense. But then, she didn’t know what else to do. She wanted to murder Lucius Malfoy for harming Severus so. She wanted to make him pay for all the suffering he had caused. But as the Potions master made apparent, he was untouchable. No matter how badly they wanted to see justice for that cruel rape, it couldn’t happen without revealing Severus’s pregnancy to the world. In short, they all had their hands tied. Rose never thought that she would ever wish death on someone so desperately.

But even in her love-driven fury, Rose knew that Severus had to come first. It was him after all who was raped in a back alley and left pregnant by it. Since she couldn’t act on her desire for revenge, Rose focused all her energy into comforting him as much as she could, if she could even do that. There was no easy way out of this emotional turmoil. To spend months thinking back on a vicious attack was bad enough in itself. But to now have a face to see in those memories…it had to be unbearable.

Rose regretted ever telling Severus that it was better for him to know his rapist’s identity.

**~HP~**

For two days following that shocking revelation, Rose barely clung to control. The Gryffindor who was always known to be upbeat, even if only for the benefit of others, had taken such a turn in her behavior. Whenever she wasn’t emotionally numb after hours of paralyzing thought, she was prone to sudden bouts of irritability. She also started to withdraw from much of her daily social interactions, which caused quite a bit of concern with her friends, especially Hermione and Harry. She didn’t tell them the reason, only that she and Severus hadn’t had a row. Of course, that provided very little comfort for anyone. But Rose could only assure them that everything was fine, and that they need not worry about her. She had already caused enough distress with her inability to control her emotions. She couldn’t drag them into this mess.

But even if they knew what was weighing down her mind, they wouldn’t be able to ease the pain of seeing Severus so miserable. Rose had seen the Potions master at some deep lows, but that was nothing compared to the level of fear and shame he carried each day. What worried her most was when he had to miss that Monday’s classes, choosing instead to lock himself away in his quarters. Rose tried to comfort him as much as she could, but she found that the only thing he consoled in was her company. In Rose’s mind, however, that was just not enough.

Again, she felt powerless, driven by love, but held back by duty.

**~HP~**

Rose clutched her books to her chest as she marched her way through the halls. Fresh out of Divination, she had an incense-induced headache, and she needed her space. She and Harry had made plans to study for their upcoming DADA exam, but she backed out after their Potions lesson. And after realizing how unusually quiet Severus was, Harry knew she wanted to get to him as soon as she could. And having thoroughly learned his lesson, he did not stand in her way.

People seemed to be everywhere, and in her moodiness, Rose had never felt more claustrophobic. Why did every last insolent child have to nudge into her as they ran past? More than that, did not one of them think to apologize, even halfheartedly? Rose’s patience was wearing thin, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to shut herself up. If she got through this day without losing her mind, she would give up Honeyduke’s chocolate for a month.

She had just dismounted the steps into the dungeons and was about to turn the corner to head for the Potions classroom when she was suddenly knocked painfully in the shoulder. The blow was so hard that her heavy books were thrown from her grasp. Rose scrambled to retrieve them, and in doing so, the last of her self-control was swiftly sapped away.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, you little –,” she snarled, only to pause as she turned around to look her aggressor in the face.

“You might want to take your own noble advice, Beckett,” Draco Malfoy sneered with a positively vile face. “It was you who ran into me.”

“Well excuse me if the Red Sea didn’t part for you,” said Rose, aggravation already tightening her voice. She suddenly realized that they were alone in that particular corridor, but she couldn’t remember the crowds going away. “In case it’s missed you, the Royal family are actually Muggles.”

“You will respect me, you loudmouthed half-blood,” said Draco. Rose’s eyes became blue slits, and she straightened her back as she stepped closer. This was definitely the wrong day to go starting that row again. But Rose did need to release her stresses, and if a row was what she needed, who better than King Slytherin the Almighty himself?

“Give me one good reason,” she said. “We’ve been down this path before, Malfoy. Is it your wealth in the face of my humbleness, or is it our bloodlines that deem us unfit to share the same oxygen?”

“Don’t you dare,” Draco seethed in his hatred. “I know what you’re trying to do. Dirty-blooded as you are, loathing runs deeper than that.”

“I’m sure it does,” said Rose. The tension between them was as dense as rock, but the same circumstances that caused it gave Rose a bit of added courage. “Merlin knows a Slytherin cannot allow a Gryffindor to encroach on his territory.”

Draco blew out a hard breath through his pointed nose. “You have some nerve, Beckett. You speak to me like some brat when you yourself are no angel. I wonder if your housemates know what a slut you are.” Rose caught a snicker in her throat, and she allowed her opponent a brief moment to silently boast to himself before she said, “You know, the term ‘slut’ would imply that I’ve been with half the school, and I certainly haven’t done that. Honestly Malfoy, if I were a slut, you would have heard about it from Zabini.”

“Compared to what you’re doing, Zabini looks like a virgin,” said Draco, to which Rose replied, “At least I’ve only been with one man.” Having had enough of this conflict, the witch promptly turned to head away down the hall.

“I suppose you’re on your way to see Severus,” Draco said in a low, hard tone. Rose stopped right in her tracks, and she slowly turned to look over her shoulder. The Malfoy heir was glaring at her with thin gray eyes, and his stance was a man who was gearing up for a fight.

“If you must know, I was. However, what I was going to do there is none of your concern, so you can just turn yourself around and leave me to my business.”

“You insolent bitch!” snapped Draco, suddenly charging forward. Rose stepped back in alarm. “Your nasty little secret gets out, and yet you carry on like nothing’s wrong.”

Rose glared at Draco, his vile sneer piercing right through her soul. Did he not see what his pride had done to Severus, how his precious godfather was struggling through the days because of his cold-heartedness? That disgusting worm didn’t even know half of the pain his name had inflicted, and he still paraded around making felonies of other’s misdemeanors. “I’m not going there with you, Malfoy. You’ve already caused Severus enough stress.”

“Me?! What about you?!” Draco barked. “He wouldn’t be under so much stress if you hadn’t distorted his mind with your sexual perversions.”

“All I’ve done is give a man the happiness he’s waited a lifetime for. You would recognize that if you cared for him as much as you claim to.”

“You don’t know me,” snarled Draco, and Rose snarled back, “Eight years, Malfoy! I think I have a pretty good idea by now!”

“That’s coming from a broad who has no shame in stealing from others!”

Rose’s flaring eyes snapped open, and she stepped back as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. “How dare you?!” she gasped. “Severus Snape is not yours to own, nor anyone else’s!”

“He belongs more to me than filth like you!”

Fury hit like a Bludger out of nowhere. Her heart pounding against her ribs, and her hearing muffled by blood flow, Rose completely lost herself to her deep held hatred. There really was nothing worth seeing in this boy. There was not one scrap of compassion in him if he couldn’t see beyond his own bigotry for the supposed love of another. And his need to control people was so aggravating and dangerous that Rose felt as though her head would blow through the ceiling. Nothing was right unless he said so, and he did what he must to make it so. He was nothing more than a splintered chip off the rotted-out block.

“For fuck’s sake, Malfoy!” she shouted. “When will you give up your cowardly prejudices?!”

“I’ll give them up when you prove it to me! It’s witches like you who ruined this world!”

And like that, like a bolt of lightning in the dark, the face of Lucius Malfoy suddenly flashed before Rose’s eyes.

“ _Reducto!_ ” she shouted, he wand coming out of her robes so quickly, it almost wasn’t seen. Draco however was just as quick, and he swiftly blocked the spell. His eyes widened with appall, and his knuckles turned white as he stared back at her.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed, but Rose shook her head. “I’m not afraid of you, Malfoy. Are you afraid of me?”

“You bitch – _Stupify!_ ”

Rose jumped out of the way of Draco’s spell, and she tossed away her burdensome books. As soon as she turned back, she fired off another hex which blasted the wall behind Draco’s head. The blonde wizard did a short double-take before blasting her right back. This time, Rose was knocked off her feet, and she glanced through strands of hair at Draco’s vile smirk. Oh, he had to know that she wasn’t going down without a fight. She was a bloody virtuous Gryffindor after all. Well, she thought to herself, if it was a fight he wanted, then who was she to deny?

“ _Confringo!_ ”

The blast just missed Draco, and he threw himself down to avoid the chunks of masonry falling from the wall. With a growl, he pointed his wand and shot a bolt of light at Rose. Before she could think, her legs collapsed in on themselves, and she collapsed down to the floor. Draco then turned and ran down the hall. Rose ground her teeth as she forced herself up on her arms. But clearly Draco had forgotten that she had already been subjected to the Jelly-legs Jinx by that little woman of his, and Rose had since had the time to learn the counter-spell. A quick flourish of her wand, and she was off after her opponent.

She found Draco trying to immerse himself in a group of students, trying to lose her it seemed. Not caring for her surroundings, Rose called out to the former Death Eater. “You coward, fight me like a man! Show me your supremacy!”

“Oh yeah?” said Draco, turning around. The nearby students all scattered, some running for cover, others ducking around corners to watch. Draco paid little attention to them as he said, “ _Deprimo!_ ”

Rose hunched over with a grunt, a massive force pushing her down to the ground. It was as though the entire castle was resting on her back. Rose tried to fight it, but the pressure was just too much, and she began to sink to the floor again. She managed to lift up her head just enough to meet Draco’s eye, and she gripped her wand as her chin touched the floor.

“ _Stupify!_ ” she shouted, and the red light broke Draco’s concentration. The hex grazed Draco’s shoulder, and he was tossed across the floor by the blast. Both witch and wizard struggled to their feet, panting for labored breath. Two wands pointed at each other, and the dungeon corridor erupted into flashes of light.

“Give it up, Malfoy!” growled Rose. Draco forced out a laugh as he said, “I’ll give up when you do, bitch!”

_‘He just doesn’t learn!’_ Rose frantically thought to herself. _‘Would it kill him if he called me his equal?’_

The blasts kept coming, and Rose fired back without fear or hesitation. The sweat poured off her forehead under the heat of their furious magic, and her fingers ached around her ebony wand. She wasn’t just trying to prove a point now. She was trying to win a battle, a battle for both her pride and Severus’s honor. And she would be damned to the deepest circle of Hell before giving in. She lashed her arm out, preparing to stun the corrupt Slytherin through his heart.

“ _EXPELLIARMUS!!_ ”

Draco and Rose both cried out as their wands were shot out of their hands, and the hub of voices around them went deathly silent like ghosts in the shadows. Both instantly looked in the direction of the spell to see who abruptly disarmed them, and they both jumped in their skins when they saw Severus standing in the middle of the hall. His shoulders were stooped, giving him the appearance of a weary old man, and a white hand gripped the dark wood of his wand. And when he looked up to glare at them, the look of despair and anger was chilling enough to pierce the soul. Neither the Gryffindor nor the Slytherin could find the courage to speak.

The noise of the duel attracted a great deal of attention from the floor above, and people rushed down to see what had happened. Among them were Professors Lupin and Wicker, who came running in from behind Severus.

“What’s going on here?” commanded Lupin. “We heard explosions!”

“Malfoy was dueling Beckett!” a know-it-all, tattle-tale Ravenclaw piped up. “And Professor Snape just disarmed them!”

“Merlin’s beard!” Wicker gasped, and her big brown eyes darted to Severus. The Potions master twitched his eye subtly, and Cassandra noticed the two wands on the stone floor. She understood without any further explanation; no one there could see Severus’s increasingly massive middle, but Glamour Charms could only do so much. Cassandra swiftly bent over and picked up her students’ wands. She then went to approach Rose with a gentle hand. “Oh honey, are you okay?”

Rose couldn’t speak, too distracted by Severus and her deep brewing panic. She settled instead on a simple shake of her head. Draco rolled his eyes dramatically.

Remus firmly and loudly shooed away the eavesdropping crowds of bystanders, and once the little group was alone, he turned back and simply said, “Severus?”

“My office…” said Severus, his voice dangerously low. “Now…”

Neither of the two Seventh years were very keen to follow orders, but with a little prodding from Remus and Cassandra, they slowly followed Severus to his classroom door, which they now realized was only a short ways away. They were ashamed that they had been so consumed in their animosity that they didn’t think of where they were, that they were within earshot of the very person they were fighting over. But this was not the time for explaining, if they would even get that far.

Cassandra left them at the door, sure that this was a discussion she had no part in. Severus said nothing as he walked through the classroom to his office. But just before entering, he turned and gestured to Rose and Draco. They looked back only to see Remus nodding them forward. Both feeling like they walked to their execution, Draco sauntered on in, and Rose followed not far behind. The door closed with a low, guttural creak.

Rose and Draco sank down into the two wingchairs, still avoiding each other’s eyes. The silence was deafening as they both looked up at Severus, standing over them with that same hard stare.

“Well…” he began. “I don’t know what to say. I might have expected an outburst of dueling from a pair of foolish Third years, but not from either of you. With your age and experiences, both of you should have known better than to mindlessly fire off hexes at each other and blow holes in the castle’s foundation.”

“Severus, I’m sorry –,”

“Save your breath, Rose.” Severus point a pale finger at the young Gryffindor, and Rose slunk back slightly into her chair. “The only thing worse than two young war survivors battling each other is the fact that it is the two of you. I’m speaking to both of you when I say that I am deeply disappointed in you. Who cast the first spell?”

“She did,” said Draco, pointing at Rose.

“Is this true?” asked Severus, and Rose nodded slowly. “What did you say to her, Draco?”

“What?!” Draco gaped. “Who said I had to say something for her to attack me?”

“Just answer the damn question,” Severus commanded, showing how very little patience he had for teenaged backtalk. Draco growled in his throat and bared his teeth as he smacked his hand against his white forehead.

“I said the same things I said the other day. I called her out for being a bitch and a slut. But she started it. She insulted me first.”

“And why is that?”

Rose couldn’t lift her head to look Severus in the eye, too afraid to see that terrible emotion that tore her soul to shreds. Forcing down her own emotions, she swallowed hard and said, “He knocked into me in the hall.”

“Oh what a load of rubbish!” Draco objected violently. “See Severus? I told you she was mental! She walked right into me because she was mooding and brooding over who cares what!”

“And it’s my fault that you expect the halls to clear for you?!”

“You say that because you’ve never had money or dignity to brag about!”

“I have money!” shouted Rose. “In case you’ve forgotten, my father is one of the wealthiest wizards in Ireland, and therefore, I’ve had a trust fund stowed away my whole life. And as for my dignity, I have far more than a pitiful coward who’s afraid to face people straight and hides behind his father’s bigotry!”

“Call me a coward again and I’ll –!”

“You are not some divine being! The Malfoys are not a line of godlike figures that we must fall to our knees and worship! And I am not so blind as the scum who follow you! You don’t even know what foul things your family has done! You don’t know the travesty that has been played by your fathers and forefathers!”

“What are you talking about?!” Draco shrilly asked.

“I’m talking about evil, Malfoy! Evil that has touched you in ways you never imagined!”

“Rose, stop this!” Severus demanded with clenched fists.

“No, I have had it with keeping secrets and beating around bushes! I can’t just sit back and watch you struggle so that this sod can have a happy day!” Rose shot up to her feet and she scrambled rapidly across the floor toward Severus. “Tell him!”

“No Rose!” said Severus, shaking his head with a hard expression.

“Tell him, Severus!” Rose snarled. “Tell him what his pure blood has done!”

“I can’t!” Severus dithered, and Rose let out a nasty growl. “Tell him or I will!”

“Tell me _what?!_ ” shrieked Draco, launching himself out of his chair at the couple. He looked right past Rose to his godfather, confused and desperate for answers. “Severus, what is she trying to say?”

Severus looked like a trapped dog pressed against the wall, his throat closing as his breath grew soft and quick. But when he looked to his left and saw the glare that Rose was giving him, he saw that not even with her was a way out of this. Letting go of the tight exhale, he straightened himself out as much as he could and looked to the younger Slytherin.

“Seven months ago, I was attacked on the streets of Diagon Alley,” he said, looking right into Draco’s empty gray eyes. “A masked man dragged me down to the darkest corners of Knockturn. There I was brutally beaten, and I was sexually assaulted. For months, I tried to forget the entire experience. But the consequences of that night have proven to me that I didn’t have much choice. My assailant’s identity might have remained a mystery forever if not for a decision I made a few days ago.”

Draco’s tight lips suddenly went lax as he listened. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his pale brow furrowed. “Severus…I…I had no idea. But what does this have to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you, Draco,” said Severus. “Believe me, I would never have mentioned this to you if circumstances allowed. But it seems that you and Miss Beckett both leave me with no choice.” He swallowed hard, pushing down every last bit of fear and hesitation, but he couldn’t look at Draco as he said, “The man who attacked me was Lucius Malfoy.”

Draco flinched back, shaking his head as his face dropped to the floor. His eyes widened to painful widths, and his breath heightened. “It’s a lie…it’s a bloody lie.”

“No…no, it’s not.”

“Look, I don’t know what this crazy bitch or whoever it was said, but my father didn’t rape you!”

“We have concrete evidence to the contrary,” Severus explained. “Detection spells do not lie, Draco. You know that.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense!” snapped Draco, and he violently turned on Rose. “You did this! You’ve done something to his mind just to set me up!”

“You think I would do something so awful?” Rose replied with strained tension. “This happened long before I got involved. You just can’t accept that Daddy Dearest is more twisted than anyone could have predicted.”

“He didn’t do it!” Draco shouted at the witch, and Rose shouted right back. “He did!”

“He wasn’t sober then.” Seeing that he couldn’t fight with denial, Draco shifted to his old tactic of excuses. “He’s become a complete stinking drunk. There’s no way he was in his right mind!”

“And how do you know that exactly?” asked Rose. She turned her glare to the Slytherin, the blue in her eyes turning to ice as she stalked over towards him. “You weren’t there when it happened. Do you believe everything your father tells you? Oh wait, I think I know that already. Why don’t you just admit it, you little bastard? You don’t know your father any more than I do mine.”

“You’re asking for it, Beckett! I ought to take your head off for saying that!”

“As if you could!”

“ _Stop!!_ ” Severus cried out, jolting both Rose and Draco. Their heads instinctively snapped in his direction, their pulses racing. Both their hearts sank when they saw the tremble in his hands as his deep ebony eyes began to well up. One after the other, both students slipped back into their chairs.

“Severus…” Rose whispered, gripping the arms of her seat.

“You just don’t care,” muttered the Potions master. “Both of you…you don’t care at all.”

“Severus, you have to calm down,” Draco urged, and Rose quickly added, “Yeah Sev, this isn’t good for the baby.”

“Just shut up!” Severus yelled. The tears started to roll as he grew more and more hysterical with every breath. “You just do not understand. I don’t ask that much of you, just that you at least attempt to cohabitate with each other for my sake. I asked that you try to tolerate each other. And what do I get? The same childish hatred that has been driving me mad for eight years! Do you have any idea what the two of you mean to me? There is no student – _no person_ – in this castle that I care for more than you two. One is the lover I always longed for, and the other is the son I should have had long ago. You two are my whole world! But you cannot think of me long enough to hold your tongues around each other! You just cannot put aside your petty fucking differences for me! I needed you two to help me. I needed your support to get through this pregnancy. But all you have done is place more burden on my shoulders! I cannot possibly choose between you, and yet you must force me! I hope you’re happy! I hope you’re fucking happy!”

Severus erupted into a fit if sobs. He pressed his hands to his face, and he hunched his shaking shoulders. It wasn’t long before his hand found its way to his magically concealed belly, and he wept harder. Rose panted softly as her vision began to mist over. And Draco watched on as though he was witnessing an act of torture. Both of them remained firmly glued to their seats.

The door suddenly burst open, and Remus came running in. He immediately approached the distraught pregnant wizard, and he gripped his shoulders with two hands. “Oh Severus, there, there,” he said, jumping right on top of the situation. With the ferocity of his mood-swings combined with all the stress he was under, it had been a matter of time before Severus completely melted down. “Here, come sit down.”

“I can’t take it anymore, Remus!” Severus cried, allowing himself to be led over to his desk chair.

“I know, I know,” hummed Remus. “Severus, they’re just kids. They don’t think before they act.” He helped stabilize Severus as the Potions master eased down into the old chair.

“Severus, I’m so sorry!” said Rose, voice tight and tear trickling down her cheek. “I do care, I do!’

“Me too,” said Draco. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you. I was just trying to defend you.”

“And so was I.” Rose lifted a hand to wipe away the wet trail on her face. She thought that seeing her upset would do no good for Severus while in such a fragile state.

“Be that as it may,” said Remus, turning his head to the two teenagers while still comforting Severus. “You both are at fault in this. Escalating a conflict to the point of a magical duel is never a sensible answer, much less the right one. And at the end of the day, you are still students of this school. You two knowingly and deliberately broke school rules this afternoon.”

Rose sighed softly, and Draco cradled his chin in his propped up hand. He turned his gray eye to the floor before saying, “So what is our punishment?”

“Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and both of you will receive detention,” Remus explained. “You two were not the only ones who caused trouble today. It seems that a pair of Second years got into a dispute over some poorly made tar bombs and coated the corridor walls on the first floor. Your job will be to clean up that mess together, and your wands will be confiscated beforehand. Now, I want both of you to return to your common rooms, and report to my office immediately after dinner.”

Draco and Rose nodded their understanding, and they carefully pushed themselves to their feet. They both looked back down at Severus, whose sobs were slowly weakening to shivers. He did not return the look, and Rose fought to breathe past the knot in her throat. With a last gentle pat of Severus’s shoulder, Remus moved to usher the kids out of the room.

“Wait…” came a low mutter, and they all looked back to the office desk. Severus raised his hand up a touch and glanced up with a forlorn stare. “I wish to speak to Rose alone.”

Rose’s brow perked up, and she looked over at Remus, as though to seek his permission. The werewolf took one look at his friend and colleague, and he understood that this private audience was a necessary event, as painful it might be for one or both of them. With one gentle nod, he coaxed Draco out of Severus’s office, leaving the pregnant wizard alone with the rattled Gryffindor.

“Close the door,” Severus commanded, and Rose silently obeyed. Once she turned back with hands wringing at her waist, Severus rose from his chair and walked around his desk, collapsing into the more comfortable support of Draco’s vacated wingchair. “Draco was not lying, was he? It was you that started this.”

“Yes,” mumbled Rose, sitting down across from her weary lover.

“Why did you do it? Why did you draw your wand at words you have heard before?”

Rose rested her chin against her folded hands, and she shut her eyes as she let out a sigh so soft that it was almost inaudible to the ear. “He’s his son…he’s Lucius Malfoy’s son.”

“You couldn’t get to Lucius, so you go for the next best thing.” Severus just shook his head, unable to believe that his Rosie had been so consumed in her anger that she would do that. Draco was as innocent in the situation as they were, and yet she would blindly thrust her revenge on him. “Rose, of all the foolish things that you’ve done…”

“I was only thinking of you,” said Rose, but Severus just shook his head.

“No Rose,” he muttered. “I believe you were thinking more of yourself when you reached for your wand. You were seeking revenge, just not for my assault.”

“Severus, no!” Rose cried, and her eyes welled. She brought up her hand to dab her tears away with her sleeve. “This isn’t about me. Someone had to pay for what happened to you.”

“It just happened to be the young man you have detested your entire school life and who just so happened to be my rapist’s only begotten son.”

“Something like that!” Rose threw her hands in the air and shrugged her shoulders. “He had it coming to him though. He might not have done anything this time, but who’s to say he won’t turn out like his father?”

“It’s funny that you should say that when you have spent a lifetime trying to prove you are not like your father.” Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and he reached into his robes for his wand. Rose however stopped him short and brought forth her own wand, easily removing the Glamour Charm from her lover’s abdomen. She leaned forward to give the unborn baby a soft rub and then relaxed back into her chair.

“Listen Rose,” Severus continued. “Draco Malfoy is a complicated young man, much the way you and I are complicated. He has never wanted for anything, but he almost never had the right to his own choice. His life was planned and controlled from a very early age. And as a result of that, he no longer knows the difference between right and wrong.”

“He keeps calling me filth,” croaked Rose.

“That’s because it gives him control. He knows that he’s wrong, but he continues using that language because it brings him back to a time and place when life was stable. It’s not just you, it’s everyone. He’s even started to pull back from me because of my reformed views.”

“He just takes it out on me more than anyone else.” Rose let go of a few more tears, again wiping them away with her hands. “He doesn’t even go after Harry that much anymore, nor anyone else…why does he hate me so much?”

Severus’s heart knotted up at the sound of the pain and uncertainty in her voice. What was worse was that there were almost no words that could bring her comfort. He had a number of his own theories behind Draco’s intense resentment, but Severus knew that in Draco’s mind, every one of them would paint Rose as the offender. And while he looked to her to be his strong support in these difficult times, Rose was just as vulnerable as the rest of them.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, resting his hand on the mound of his belly. “I have my theories, but I think the only person who can say for sure is Draco.”

“And I doubt he’ll ever tell,” mumbled Rose. “Oh Severus, if you must be mad at someone, it’s me. What could I possibly do to fix this?”

“You know what I would want you to do,” said Severus. “Whether or not that can actually happen is up to you.”

Rose definitely knew what Severus was referring to, and unfortunately she also knew that it did depend on her. It depended on her feelings, and her control over them. More than that, it depended on her control around him. And after losing control so spectacularly, Rose had very little confidence that anything better could happen. But she didn’t have the heart to even pretend like she did. Severus could tell when she was lying, and she didn’t want to make him feel worse than he already did.

Rose briefly wondered if she would ever see Severus’s bed again after this.

**~HP~**

Rose and Draco both knew that they would be in for a long night when Remus told them what their punishment would be. Whether in the Magical or Muggle worlds, tar was a nasty business, and the fact that two kids were stupid enough to make bombs out of it was even worse. However, neither of them was prepared for the mess that they would encounter. After meeting outside Remus’s office, the werewolf professor led them down to a more remote stretch of hall on the first floor, and they ducked under the yellow tape that festooned the corridor’s opening. A little further into the growing darkness, and they were met with the stomach-turning sight of thick, black, putrid goo slowly dripping down the walls to pool on the floor. The torchlight glistened off its shiny surface.

Both the Gryffindor and the Slytherin vowed to track down those insipid Second years and make them pay for this.

As they were warned, Remus had them hand over their wands at first opportunity. But not wanting to be too much like his Potions master friend, he did give into his desire to offer up some pity. So in exchange for their wands, they were each given a sturdy brush, a mop, a step ladder, a bucket charmed to dispel dirty water and create fresh water, and a pair of Wellington boots.  He then conjured up a chair for himself and set himself aside with his copy of the _Evening Prophet_. These two were old enough that they didn’t need to be watched endlessly, he thought to himself. And even if they weren’t, if losing a few dozen more house points didn’t set them right, a quick Silencing Spell sure would.

For the first, long forty minutes of struggling and scrubbing, Draco and Rose couldn’t even look at each other. Both were quite content to get this filthy punishment over with, and both wanted to do it without any interaction whatsoever. But tucked away in his little corner, Remus had the sense that this would not last very long. And sure enough, he started hearing the low grumblings of teenaged discontent. He turned his attention back to his paper; they needed to work this out on their own.

“Fucking disgusting!” Draco snarled as he scrubbed the sticky floor on his hands and knees. He glanced over at Rose, who was kneeling beside the opposite wall with tar smeared up her arms. “How do you people do this stuff?”

“I’m middle-class, Malfoy. I don’t exactly live in a pigsty,” said Rose, trying her best not to react too harshly. “It won’t kill you to get your hands dirty. We’ve seen worse in Potions class.”

“You only did that work yourself to suck up to your teacher.”

Rose bit the inside of her cheek to prevent the evident outburst. It wasn’t just that she had promised Severus that she wouldn’t interact with Draco anymore that night, but also that she just didn’t have the energy to row anymore. Her head pounded from too many tears, and her throat was red and raw after all the shouting. It was going to be a bad enough night as it was away from Severus, so she didn’t want to make it any worse for fear of ruining what was left of Hermione’s night.

“Don’t even try that, Malfoy,” she said. “I know what you’re doing here; you want to rile me up so that I get in more trouble. Well I’m not an idiot, although whether you choose to believe that is up to you.”

“I think Severus deserves to know how short a temper his little girlfriend has. Wouldn’t you say the same, Beckett?”

“Do you really think that Severus didn’t know that already?” Rose stopped scrubbing to look at Draco in a very perplexed way. “Honestly Malfoy, this has been going on for longer than you know. We’ve had time to get to know each other.”

“You always have to rub that in my face,” said Draco, rolling his eyes angrily. “You say that Severus is no one’s property, huh? Well, you like to act like you’ve gone and bloody claimed him.”

“I did say that, but it wasn’t for me. Severus’s loyalties are his choice. He could be with me, or he could be with you and your housemates. And as you’ve seen, he wants to be with me.”

“That doesn’t make it alright,” sneered Draco. Frustrated, he thrust his filthy brush into his bucket, splashing inky water into the air.

“What is your problem?” Rose asked exasperatedly. Draco snarled through his teeth as he clenched his fists on the floor. “You don’t see it? My Head of House is having an affair with a student – _you_.”

“Yes, we know that already.” Rose stood up to start scrubbing up the walls. “What I want to know is why you are still fighting it after nearly seven days.”

“What does it matter to you if I am?” asked Draco. “You just take it back to Severus and gloat about it.”

“Actually, I don’t,” said Rose, a certain tenseness in her voice to demonstrate her seriousness. “We know how much it upsets Severus that we don’t get on. I mean, we saw it today. Why would I deliberately go upsetting a man in a delicate condition just to claim victory? I’ll make myself very clear, Malfoy. I love him more than I hate you.”

“You just don’t get it, Beckett,” Draco objected, shooting up to his feet. He suddenly sounded like a frustrated little boy who was fixing to throw a tantrum, and Rose looked over her shoulder with a furrowed brow.

“What don’t I get?” she asked. “All I see is a spoiled rich brat who throws a fit every time he doesn’t get his way. More than that, you’re a territorial bastard. You couldn’t share people if your life depended on it. What is there that I don’t understand?”

“You don’t see it?” Draco replied. He turned around to face Rose head-on. “This war has destroyed everything for me. I’ve lost my family, my integrity, and my dignity. Severus is all I have left, and you’re taking him away from me!”

Rose’s grip on her brush loosened, though she tried to cover it up by dunking her hand into her water bucket. “I said it before,” she said. “He belongs to no one, not even you, not even me.”

“You wouldn’t think that, the way he is around you,” said Draco. “It’s all about you with him now. He doesn’t give a damn about anyone else, just you!”

“That’s not true,” Rose scolded, throwing her brush down into her bucket. She walked through the tacky black sludge on the floor to glare at Draco past strands of her red hair. “I know for a fact that he cares deeply about other people, especially you. You were his priority before I came along, and that hasn’t changed.”

“Then he has a funny way of showing it.” Draco grabbed one of the mops resting against the wall and started furiously thrusting it across the floor.

“Look,” said Rose. “I know how much Severus means to you, but I didn’t do this just to spite you, so don’t treat me like I did.”

“You might as well have,” said Draco. “That man has been the closest thing I’ve ever had to an uncle. I have a better relationship with him than with my own father.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s bound to you alone,” Rose asserted. “In case you’ve forgotten, he’s got a baby on the way. He wouldn’t have had the time for you anyway.”

Draco whirled around and held his mop handle as though he was going to take a swing at Rose, causing the Gryffindor to step back. “You don’t think I know that?” Draco ground out. “That baby has been haunting me since the day we found out. I knew what was coming. But what I didn’t see coming was Severus abandoning me for a whore like you.”

“Oh, so this is about me,” said Rose, grabbing her bucket to douse her opponent if need be.

“Of course this is about you,” the Slytherin sneered. “It was you who started this, after all. You slept with Severus.”

“Is that so?” asked Rose, arching her eyebrow. “Is that the only reason, or is there more to it?”

“Don’t try me, Beckett,” warned Draco as he pointed his mop handle at her like a Muggle rifle. Rose however was undeterred, holding her stance and saying, “Is it purely because I’m a student, or is it the fact that I’m a Gryffindor that’s got your wand in a knot?”

“Please, I would take any of those blasted Gryffindors over you any day.”

Rose ground her teeth together, and she had to put down her bucket before she actually could toss its contents. Leave it to this guy to try and bait her when her emotions were raw. And not only that, but he had hit her below the belt by confirming those hurtful suspicions that his anger had nothing to do with anyone but her. He wasn’t mad that Severus was running off with a girl. He was mad that Severus was running off with her.

“I don’t know why I bother with you,” she murmured half to herself. She bent over to retrieve her filthy brush to get back to work on the walls. “I could save your damn life, and you would still be furious that I touched you. Anyone else could have slept with Severus, but it’s still me that’s the villain. You probably wouldn’t have cared this much if it was your own girlfriend. At least she’s a Slytherin.”

“I would have cared,” said Draco, the statement almost sounding like a complaint.

“Bollocks,” said Rose, stepping up her short ladder to scrub up the wall. “You would have cared only because you can’t share what’s yours.”

“My relationships are not that meaningless,” Draco said firmly. Biting his lip, he went back to his mopping, grunting with the effort. “And if it’s worth anything to you, Pansy and I broke up.”

Rose stopped abruptly, and she had to fling her arms out to hold her balance on the ladder. She then looked back incredulously at Draco, peering over her angled shoulder. “Really…Slytherin’s royal couple? Ha, it almost begs to question what happened.”

“It just didn’t work out,” replied Draco. “It’s none of your business what happened.”

“Malfoy, I might not know a great deal about love, but I do know that the people who end their relationships do so because they’re unhappy.”

“You would make such assumptions,” Draco challenged, and Rose nodded her head.

“I would,” she simply said. “I’m assuming that it was you who ended the relationship because Pansy Parkinson is as possessive as you are of Severus. After three years, I didn’t think she would let you go that easily.”

Draco let out a soft sigh, supporting the weight of his body on the mop in the tar. “I’ll give you one thing, Beckett; that is true.”

“Hey, would it kill you to call me by my first name?” asked Rose. “I do have one, you know.”

“I will if you do the same,” Draco explained. “The Malfoys are not just one being. I have my own identity.”

“Alright, I understand, Draco. Forgive me if your family has portrayed themselves in that way the last few years.”

“Hey, you don’t know anything about me or my family,” the blonde wizard barked, causing Rose to step off the ladder. The Gryffindor’s eyes narrowed, though not in the sinister way she had adopted that evening.

“You know, your family isn’t exactly the most private in Wizarding Britain,” she said with a shrug. “I know more than you would probably want to acknowledge.”

“Why don’t you just ignore it then?” asked Draco. “I don’t need people like you going on about my family.”

“You must not be very happy with them.” Rose had no idea where the words came from, but she was even more surprised by the tell-tale sinking feeling of sympathy tugging at her insides. She could not possibly feel sorry for this poor sod. But then again, Severus had a certain effect on her that no one could really explain. Draco glanced at her briefly in a rather perplexed way before turning his eyes down to the messy floor.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he muttered. “You don’t know what it’s like to grow up with the world in the palm of your hand only for all that to come crashing down.”

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” asked Rose, reaching for her mop to help with the floor. “You don’t think I know how that feels? When it got out that my father once worked for Voldemort, people looked at me different. I got the same looks you’ve gotten, like I was one of you. I only left my Muggle village three times this past summer.”

“At least people know that you had nothing to do with it.” Draco stopped to lean on the mop again. “And at least the world knows everything your father has done.”

“I don’t think they do,” said Rose. “My father was imprisoned for conspiracy. There are a great many things that he could have done that they can’t prove in court.”

“I’m willing to bet that he didn’t do anything nearly as heinous as mine did.”

Now Rose knew she was feeling bad, feeling a certain ache in her chest and pelvis. She gripped her mop, her knuckles paling as she struggled with the emotion and the words that were warring in her head. Oh, how she wanted to be nasty. But not even Draco Malfoy could be that cruel in light of their unsavory circumstances. “I’m sorry you had to find out in that way,” she said. “Severus didn’t want to tell you at all, but I couldn’t watch him struggle anymore.”

“I’m not angry at Severus for telling me,” said Draco. “I’m not even mad at you for forcing him. I just can’t fathom why a man would do something like that…my own father.”

“I know, it’s a tough potion to swallow,” Rose reassured him, though Draco just shook his head.

“You don’t understand…he lied…he lied about everything. He said that it would get better for us…he promised that things would change.”

“Oh Draco,” sighed Rose. “You don’t know how many times I’ve been told that to the point where I just don’t believe it anymore. Hope can only get you so far in life.”

“Hope isn’t really something I make much use of,” said Draco. “All summer, I held on to the idea that one day, life would go back to the way things were. But after six weeks of being back here, it was clear to me that wasn’t going to happen. Beckett…Rose, day after day, I’ve been forced to sit and watch as my old life slipped further and further away. In the last six hours alone, I learned just how far gone my family name is! What else can I do when nothing gets any better?”

“You put on your big boy pants and deal with it,” said Rose. Draco grimaced at her choice of words, and Rose could clearly see it. She had to lapse into her subdued Muggle nature at the worst times. In any case, she shook sense back into herself and took a deep breath in. “No one can escape their past, Draco. Even more so, we cannot deny the bad things that have happened to us. You just have to accept that what’s happened has happened. Your father lied to you and the whole world, and he did a horrible thing to a man we both care about deeply. You couldn’t run away from that if you tried.”

“I know,” replied Draco. “But you try walking in my shoes sometime. What do you do when everything you’ve ever been a part of has brought nothing but shame and ruin?”

“You could try to see the good you have,” Rose suggested. “It’s like Severus. He didn’t have to continue that pregnancy. He didn’t even have to keep the baby once it’s born. But he’s still doing it. He wants to be a father, even if it had to happen in that way. You just have to think of yourself the same way. You have to have something you’re glad about.”

“Like what?” asked Draco. Rose opened her mouth to speak, but thought halted the words on the tip of her tongue. Oh, this would be so much easier if she actually knew this guy beyond the hallway bully persona she had been living with for eight years.

“Like…you’re free of clingy girlfriend.”

Draco offered up a light snicker, and he shook his head. “You’re a piece of work.”

“You too,” said Rose. “And that’s what Severus likes about us.”

“It’s still beyond me how he could be that into you,” said Draco as he rolled his eyes. “You of all people!”

“Can I ask just one thing?” Rose asked. She dunked her mop into the filthy bucket water beside her. “Why is it me of all people? What do I have that you don’t? As Severus said, you will never want for anything. I’m just a simple girl from a lowly Muggle village. What do I have that you could be jealous of, if I may use that word?”

Draco paused, and he turned to face the red-haired witch directly. He looked like he didn’t want to admit anything, quite obvious for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor of their history. But he realized that he had already said more in that past hour than he had in months. And it wasn’t like this girl would be acting like this forever. So with the last of his pride slipping from his grasp, he sighed through his pointed nose and said, “Stability…”

“What do you mean?” asked Rose.

“I don’t understand how you could live through the same war, with almost the same consequences, with a father as bad as mine, and yet you skip through the day like you have the best life in the world. How could you even tell me the things you have told me tonight when you have no reason?”

Rose stared at Draco for a long moment. It was then that she glanced to her right and saw Remus peering over the top of his newspaper, clearly eavesdropping on them. Not wanting to disappoint, she took another long moment for herself, choosing her words carefully. She had never been so honest with someone like Draco, not since Severus anyway. She didn’t want to take any chances that this was another one of his childish ruses.

“I turned out this way because I didn’t run away from my life. I didn’t have the privilege of growing up with my father’s wealth or status, so I had to make my own way. I didn’t rely on my father, or his opinions. In fact, I spent my life trying to separate myself from him. I knew I would never be happy if I just waited for things to get better, so I took an active approach. And believe me, it was hard, harder than you could ever understand.”

“You want a bet on that?” Draco asked cynically.

“Don’t turn this on me,” said Rose, pointing her thin finger at the Slytherin. “My point is that yes, you have been through a lot in your life. But we’re still young. We both have a lot more ahead of us, and there’s no getting around it. The best that you can do is to buck up and take it for what it’s worth. Not everything is that bad, you know.”

“It’s still difficult to see past it, especially in circumstances like these.” Draco made a move to continue his work, bending down for his scrubbing brush when he suddenly stopped. Rose watched as his pale went lithe, and gray eyes widened. Draco breathed softly through thin lips, open just a touch.

“What?” Rose asked, her brow wrinkling like she really shouldn’t have bothered.

“My father raped Severus,” mumbled Draco, almost sounding like he was a million miles away. “That means…that means he got Severus pregnant.”

“You realized that before the night was over? I’m surprised.” Rose caught the offending snicker in her throat before it could escape, though there was a sharp exhale through her freckle-dusted nose. But Draco either didn’t hear her or he ignored her. His eyes remained glued to the floor, and his breathing grew shallow.

“He’s the baby’s other father…Merlin’s beard! Severus is carrying my little sibling!”

Smiling to herself, Rose trudged across the sticky floor, and she got close enough to Draco to lightly touch his shoulder. “You see, that’s something for you. The circumstances might not be the best, but you’ll have a little brother or sister to look after. One only child to another, I would say that’s pretty cool. Just take it as they come, one day at a time. The rest of us are surviving, so can you.”

“Some people make it look easy,” Draco grumbled softly, But Rose heard him, and she flung a handful of water at the wizard. “Well, hardly anything is easy.”

“That it isn’t.”

Rose meeped in surprise, and Draco jumped in his shoes. They both looked up in the direction of the deep voice, and Severus stepped out of the shadows. Like cadets in a small army, the two Seventh years straightened their backs, though neither of them was entirely aware of what they were doing. They didn’t know how long he had been there, what he had seen, or what he had heard. But it seemed that he had heard enough, if his more relaxed appearance was an indication.

Remus’s attention was also attracted by his colleague’s appearance, and he rose up from his chair. “Severus,” he said. “You didn’t have to come up here. You should be resting after your tough day.”

“I think these two have learned their lessons,” the Potions master told the werewolf. “We shall let Filch handle the rest of it in the morning.”

“Very well.” Remus folded up his paper and tucked it under his arm, and addressed Draco and Rose. “Now, this is the last I ever want to see of you two. I don’t think any of us could take any more of this madness.”

“Indeed,” Severus agreed. Remus reached into his robe pocket to retrieve his students’ wands, and he handed them back one at a time. Once they were back in the robes of their owners, he bid them a good night. Rose and Draco exchanged a last awkward glance before starting for their common rooms.

“Rose,” said Severus, and both the young ones stopped and turned. Severus cocked his head to the Gryffindor and said, “Where are you going? It’s Friday night.”

Rose’s blue eyes glistened, and her soul could have burst with happiness and relief that Severus had forgiven her. She stepped forward, dodging spots of tar on the floor toward Severus’s outreached hand. But just before she could take it in her own, she felt that looming stare beating against her back. She turned to see Draco watching them from the other end of the hall. The couple held their breaths, not sure of what he was going to say. But just when Rose thought her lips were turning blue, Draco gave her a small nod and turned away. He soon disappeared into the dark of the hall.

“Come on,” Severus gently said, touching Rose’s arm. He then led her away in silence, though he could not stop her from looking back after the retreating Slytherin.


	70. The Ides of March

Rose woke up in a bundle of warmth, snuggled cozily under her blankets and sheets. The first thing she noticed was that the dormitory was quiet, and that she was alone. Sitting up against the pillows, she raised her arms and stretched out her shoulders, letting out a soft groan of satisfaction. It wasn’t all that often that she felt this rested in the mornings; her nighttime ritual of sneaking up from the dungeons did take its toll after a while. Worse than that, she had to deal with Hermione’s alarm clock, which went off at half past six every morning. Today however, she had been spared. Rose smiled when she saw the hands of the clock at ten minutes to eight. Hermione really was more generous than she was given credit for.

Slipping out of bed, she looked out the window at the dreary gray sky. It looked like it would rain later, but the Rose wasn’t bothered by that. She had no reason for going out today. In fact, that day would be the most leisurely she had in months. It would be lectures all day long with a film in Muggle Studies, and Rose had every intention to enjoy it. After all, the end of term was drawing nearer every day, and that meant exam prep was looming over like an approaching storm. That along with the impending birth of Severus’s child would make for a hectic last few weeks at Hogwarts, Rose cheekily thought to herself.

Once she was fully dressed, Rose once again sat down on the edge of her bed. She buckled her shoes over her stocking-clad feet, and then she reached for the bedside table. She fastened her silver locket around her neck, tucking it carefully down her collar for safekeeping. Then she hooked her charm bracelet around her pale wrist, the engraved heart and the wolf’s head clinging together like tiny wind chimes. And with a last glance over herself in the mirror, Rose floated out of her high dormitory, already late for breakfast, and content to be even later.

**~HP~**

“Happy birthday, Rose!” Lavender squealed as Rose approached her year-mates’ usual place at the Gryffindor table. The exclamation caught the attention of many, and dozens of eyes shifted in their direction. Rose rolled her eyes, dearly hoping that her cheeks were not turning too pink.

“Oh you remembered,” she said in a tone somewhere between appreciation and sarcasm. She sat down in the empty space to Harry’s left.

“Well, it’s not that hard to forget,” Ron sniggered across the table. “I mean, c’mon. What’s easier to remember than the fifteenth of March?”

“Probably a lot of dates if you haven’t read Shakespeare,” replied Rose, cocking her light brow in a way most sarcastic, which garnered a small laugh from Harry. This was one of those moments where everyone could tell who was Muggle-raised because they kept straight faces while others around them grimaced with puzzlement. And surprisingly, Ron was among the relatively unfazed.

“No need to remind me of that longwinded rubbish.” He turned his head to his left, where Hermione sat rolling her eyes. “It’s wonderful culture, she said. It’ll broaden your mind, she said.”

“Ron Weasley, you just haven’t been exposed to enough classic theatre. And at least you made it through the entire play,” Hermione rebuked. Now it was Ron’s turn to roll his eyes. “The longest four hours of my life!”

“That’s probably the only time we’ll hear the words Ron Weasley and theatre in the same sentence,” said Dean, and Parvati giggled on his shoulder. “So Rose, how does it feel to be nineteen?”

“It’s only eight o’clock in the morning, Dean. It’s a bit early to make that judgment. But if you must know, it doesn’t feel any different than being eighteen.”

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” said Lavender, her flirty, impish personality taking over. “Wait until we get back to the common room after classes are over for the day.”

“Ai, right,” Seamus grinned. “I’ve got a few bottles of the good stuff for the lot of us. Merlin, I love it when it’s someone’s birthday.”

“Don’t make us sound like a bunch of party animals,” said Rose. “It’s just another day.” She reached for a nice helping of toast and pulled the strawberry jam closer to her plate. She was bringing a slice up to her mouth when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small velvet pouch sitting by her goblet of pumpkin juice, and her brow twitched. “What’s this?”

“It’s from the three of us,” said Harry, gesturing to Ron and Hermione. “I thought we ought to give it to you before we all get caught up in classes.” Rose gave Harry a weak, sarcastic glare, but she put down her jam-covered toast and picked up the little black bag. She carefully untied the string keeping it closed, and she tipped the contents into the palm of her hand. She smiled at the little silver cauldron charm adorned with an aquamarine stone.

“I saw that in town, and I knew it would be perfect,” Hermione explained as she helped to attach the charm to Rose’s bracelet.

“You three are too generous,” said Rose. “You’re starting to make me look bad.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Harry, touching his housemate’s arm. “Think of it as making up for the last seven years.”

Rose wanted to smack the Head Boy, but the sentiment in the gesture triggered her natural female response to blush. She had often spoken about how much she disliked her birthday; being born on such a historically ominous date did have its tendencies to attract some unneeded and ill-conceived humor. But just as Natasha and Jonny had done in years past, Harry and Hermione made it their duty to negate that annoyance and make the day as enjoyable as possible. And Rose had all the confidence in the world that they would do just that, even if she already knew that turning nineteen would be her best birthday yet. She glanced up at Severus at the head table, and she smiled with anticipation.

“So Rose, is there anything else you’d like?” asked Ron. Hermione’s eyes glittered at her boyfriend’s generosity, and she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder.

“Like what?” Rose asked in return. Her attention was drawn away by the mail owls that were flooding in from the rafters.

“I don’t know,” Ron shrugged his shoulders. “I can push Dean down the stairs so you could play in the game against Ravenclaw this weekend.”  Rose almost choked on a mouthful of jam and toast when she got a glimpse of the positively dumbfounded look on Dean’s face, and she and Harry laughed in spite of themselves.

“I’ve asked for many things for my birthday, but violence was never one of them. Just keep to the simple things, Ron. I’m easy to please.” Rose moved her plate the inch it required for her mail to be dropped on the table in front of her, and she flipped through the envelopes at a leisurely pace. There were three letters from home, which Rose quite expected, but she was almost taken aback when she noticed the envelope addressed from Moscow, and then another from New York City. Even from thousands of miles away, Natasha and Jonny still held on to the good old times.

This day just seemed to be getting better by the minute.

**~HP~**

Severus didn’t have very high expectations when he asked for Draco to stop by his office. In the few days since the revelation of the baby’s paternity and the ensuing disaster with Rose, the younger Slytherin had been rather quiet around his Head of House, and if talk was to be believed, he was keeping his distance from mostly everyone. Though he had kept a certain amount of gravity in his request, Severus assumed that his godson would be slow to follow professors’ orders, if he didn’t ignore them all together. But it had to happen. Deep down, they both knew that they couldn’t avoid each other forever. And Severus, fully worn out and fed up with the conflict, knew how he had to end it.

It was the first morning break, and Severus was only a few pages into the pile of unnecessarily arduous Head of House paperwork when he was interrupted by a steady knock on his office door. He looked at his desk clock with a slight wrinkle in his brow; he wasn’t expecting anyone this early in the day, not even Rose. Erring to the side of caution, the pregnant wizard slowly hoisted himself out of his desk chair, resting a hand on the side of his stomach as he walked across the room. Before he touched the doorknob, he made sure his wand-hand was ready for quick action, and after positioning himself so that his bump was out of view, he open the door a crack to look out. He exhaled his relief to see the young blonde man standing there with his hands shoved into his robe pockets.

“Come in, Draco,” he said, stepping to the side to allow the younger wizard in. “Have a seat.” Draco glanced at Severus out of the corner of his eye, almost like he wasn’t used to hospitality. But he did come in quietly, and he did make himself comfortable in a wingchair. Once the door was double-locked and charm-protected, Severus too settled down into the opposite chair, and he rested his hands atop his belly.

“So what’s going on?” asked Draco, thumbs twiddling in his lap. “Why did you want me to come down here so suddenly?”

“I just needed to talk to you,” replied Severus. “I have been thinking quite lot about the last few days, and about how much you factored into them. I don’t believe you have had much opportunity to actually talk about what happened. Actually, we probably should have had this discussion a long time ago.”

“Like when you decided to lean on Rose Beckett even after she attacked me and forced you to humiliate yourself and me at the same time?”

Severus gave a weak sigh, slowly chewing the inside of his cheek. They had all made shameful mistakes lately, and that little gem was something Rose had already come to regret. But this wasn’t about her, and Draco knew it just as well as Severus. He wanted the Potions master to feel the indignity of his own faults, and for once, Severus felt that Draco was within his limits.

“You’re right,” he said, speaking with complete honesty whilst maintaining his stern composure. “I haven’t given you enough attention when I really should have. But let me explain. What happened with Rose is something I am not proud of, but I have also found it in my heart to forgive, and I forgave her for the things she said. I only recently realized that I was wrong to forgive her so quickly. Draco, you have seen and heard things that were obviously devastating to you. You have been hurt just as much as the rest of us, if not more, and yet Rose came first. My real regret is that I did not seek you out sooner, that I didn’t give you the comfort you needed.”

“You’re bloody right, you didn’t,” Draco sneered weakly. “I find out that my father is a psychotic sexual deviant, that I’m about to have a half-sibling, and that my godfather is sleeping with my classmate. I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and what did you do? You wave to me as you pass by with Beckett on your arm. Clearly you were more concerned about her than you were about me.”

Again, Severus sighed, and his hands came up to steeple under his chin. “I probably was. I worry about both of you more than I could ever explain. But I need to know, Draco. Do you feel threatened by Rose?”

Draco paused; he clearly looked like he didn’t want to answer such a question, and the reason for it was pretty obvious. The younger Slytherin hated to admit weakness as it was, but it only got worse when he was being forced to yield to someone of impure blood, a headstrong Gryffindor, and to top it all off, _a woman_. But like Severus, Draco didn’t have any more fight in him, and he shook his head as his gray eyes drifted to the floor.

“It was bad enough when I thought I was competing against a baby,” he told his godfather. “I know how the world works, Severus. When a man gets a girlfriend, she becomes the center of the universe. And don’t you deny it. I could see it in your eyes when you looked at her, and in how you were so quick to defend her against me.”

“Well, that was because you threatened her with physical violence,” said Severus. “I would die before I let any harm come to her, and I know that even you are above hurting women. And you do have a point; she is a high priority of mine. I love her, but that doesn’t mean that I feel any less for you. Draco, I meant it when I said that you were like my son. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and Rose could never take your place in my life.”

Leaning back against his chair, Draco felt a little bit ill with tension as he thought back to that stupid detention, and that unexpected discussion that had tugged at his memories for much of the time after. “I just don’t understand her. I’ve tried, for you, but I just can’t.”

“You didn’t expect her to show you kindness, did you?” Severus said, leaning on the arm of his own chair. “I certainly didn’t expect to find you two talking to each other during detention, much less in the middle of a deep discussion.”

“That’s what I mean,” said Draco. “She tries to blow me to bits one minute, and the next, she’s telling me to chin up. Who does something like that?”

“Well, how do you think she got my attention?” Severus gave a certain smirk at that. “As much as she despises you and your housemates, Rose doesn’t mean any harm. And she has wisdom that not many your age would. If I know anything about Rose Beckett, it’s this. She wouldn’t have said those things to you if she didn’t want to help you. She might have a deadly temper, but she’s not that cold.”

“But she doesn’t know what it’s like to be me, especially now.” Draco folded his arms over his chest, and he turned his face away with a frown. There it was, Severus thought to himself. It was that silent plea for help that had been clinging to Draco’s lips for days, begging for release but held back with chains of his own making. In just one look, Severus could plainly see how distraught Draco was, so much that he had to deflect that tension onto Rose. But as said, he was way within his limits.

“I need to apologize, Draco,” said Severus. “Not just for myself, but also for Rose. I never intended for you to find out about your father, especially in that way.”

Evidently, that subject was still very sore because Draco flinched, though he honestly tried to prevent it. He then started shaking his head as his already pale face blanched with disgust. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he said. “He’s not even gay, for fuck’s sake! How could he have done something so sick?”

“Oh Draco, you have always known what Lucius was capable of,” Severus bluntly stated. “I really hate to say this, but even you had to have seen that there was such madness and brutality in him.”

“But he wasn’t mad,” Draco defended. “He wasn’t. He had to have been drunk when it happened. The only times he leaves the manor is to go on pub crawls with those lowlifes from _Borgin and Burkes_.”

Severus sighed deeply, cradling his head in his hand. It was a good thing that he had gotten used to actually speaking about the night he was raped. Otherwise this conversation would never have happened. The memory still hurt, even more now that there was a face attached to the images. But there was a consolation this time; he wasn’t talking about it for his benefit, but for Draco’s.

“I know a drunken man when I see one, and I saw nothing of the sort that night. Listen Draco, I cannot say whether Lucius was in his right mind or not, but he still did it. He spoke to me the entire time he was attacking me, and he kept saying over and over again that I brought it upon myself. He raped me for revenge, Draco. He raped me because in his mind, the Dark Lord’s defeat was my doing.”

“He never said anything like that at home,” said Draco. “Now that I think of it, he never talked about you at all…oh gods. He was trying to hide what he did. He had raped his friend, and he was just carrying on like nothing happened. He raped another man, and he was climbing in bed with my mother every night!”

“Draco…”

“That sick bastard! That sick, twisted, _revolting_ bastard! I say it again, Severus, how could he have done that?!”

“I don’t know,” said Severus. “Perhaps there was always some lingering madness in Lucius, and something just made him snap. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. But none of that matters anymore.”

“Wait a second, you don’t mean you’re going to let him get away with this, do you?” Draco was genuinely appalled by that thought. As conflicted as his feelings for his father were, he couldn’t understand why Severus would want to hush this up. Hell, if it had been him, he would want to murder his rapist with his bare hands. “Severus, this is my father we’re talking about. You want me to pretend like I don’t know anything, keep this from my mother. She deserves to know about this.”

The pregnant Potions master shook his head. “It just isn’t safe, Draco. We don’t know what would happen if we exposed Lucius for what he did, but I just can’t risk it. He’s still a dangerous man, and he knows some dangerous people. As much as we all would want to see him locked up again, the reality is that he left me with a child. I just cannot bear the idea of Lucius getting his hands on my baby.” Severus stroked his hand over the curve of his rounded stomach, his instincts driving him to protect the tiny life he carried despite there being no imminent danger.

“I think he would be horrified if he knew you got pregnant,” said Draco, a little too frankly for comfort. “I could just hear the nasty things he would say. He would say the Malfoy line is forever ruined, and the fact that his child would be born of another wizard would just destroy him. Who am I kidding? He would call it an embarrassment of both nature and magic.”

“But what do you think of this, Draco?” asked Severus. “Do you think your family line is ruined?”

“No,” Draco replied. “You’re my godfather, and that’s my sibling…that’s my sibling.”

“Still adjusting to that idea, aren’t you?” Severus mused aloud, which attracted Draco’s attention towards his abdomen. His lips suddenly twitched unpleasantly, to which Severus had to cock a dark brow. “You know, Draco, there’s nothing you can say that would offend me now. If you have a problem with this or with me, I want to know.”

“But I don’t,” said Draco. “I mean, I don’t think I do. After all these years, I never thought I would have a brother or sister. Then suddenly my dad shags you, knocks you up, and – _boom_ – I’m not an only child anymore. Really, how the hell am I supposed to react to something like that?”

“It’s alright to be scared, boy,” replied Severus. “How do you think I felt when I found out that I was pregnant?”

At that thought, Draco rolled his eyes dramatically, and he snarled behind his teeth. “Oh don’t go pulling that one again. You’ve had almost seven months to adjust to the idea of having a baby, never mind it being my dad’s baby. I’ve had a week and a half at most!”

“That is true, but you don’t need to drive yourself mad just yet. You don’t need to thrust yourself into anything.”

“What do you mean?” asked Draco. Severus shifted in his chair to a more comfortable position, taking the weight of his belly off his lower back. But then he looked back at Draco with a calm face and said, “I am not expecting anything from you, Draco. I always knew that I wanted you to be a part of my child’s life, but I don’t want you to feel obligated just because this baby is your blood relative. The last thing I want is for you to help raise a child you cannot look at and feel any sense of love for.”

“Every time I look at it, I’ll think of my father.”

“So will I. But I will still raise this child to the best of my ability because it will be my child, not Lucius’. He will never have any involvement, and if I would have things my way, the child would never know about any of this. They are as innocent as you were when you came into this world, but the difference is that they will not be brought up the way you were.”

“They won’t be raised to be a Death Eater,” Draco spoke, thinking out loud. “But Severus, would you really want me to interact with the baby when I’m as fucked up as they come? When I was a kid, my father was all I had to look up to. And now we see where that’s gotten us! What kind of a role model am I?”

Severus sighed. “Personally, I think you are a fine example for a child to look up to. After all, you grew up in a very dark place, but you are slowly finding your way back, no matter what you think of yourself. Give it a few more years, and you will be well off to the life I know you really want. But the choice is still yours. I gave Rose the same choice months ago; she could have walked away from everything we had together. But she chose to stand by me, and though I know you don’t want to hear it, she’s become the mother figure I’ve wanted for this child.”

“She did say that this was a good thing for me,” said Draco. “But what does she know? My godfather is sleeping around with Gryffindor bitches, and as far as I can see, my relationship with my father is practically over. I can never look at him the same way after this. It’s not her life that’s been so uprooted that you have no ground to stand on.”

“She knows what it’s like to lose a father,” said Severus. “You saw what sort of a relationship Rose has with Alistair Beckett. She hasn’t always known of his involvement with the Dark Lord. And that isn’t the half of it. It’s not my place to say, but Rose has been through more than you would care to acknowledge. To have you bashing her about is just pouring salt on the wound.”

“You’re defending her again. Why must you keep taking her side, Severus? She’s not some kind of miracle worker.”

“I know she’s not, but I owe her so much.” Severus’s eyes fell down toward his belly; the baby was starting to shift around inside, and it got him thinking again. “You need to understand, Draco. I don’t know where I would be today if I had not met Rose. She was the one who helped me to see that I could be a good father, and by god, I might not have grown to love this baby so much if she had not reminded me of what it was like to love.”

“Severus, please, just stop.” Whatever control that Draco had been trying to maintain finally started to slip away, and he pressed a hand to his lips as his eyes glossed over with frustration. Severus had to actually pause at the sight, and he sat up straighter as his brow furrowed with concern. His lips parted to speak, but Draco cut him off with a tightly clenched fist on the arm of his chair. “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take you forcing Beckett down my throat like that; I don’t care if she is your bloody girlfriend. It’s bad enough that you’ve been shagging her for weeks, and now I have to keep my mouth shut about it. Just because you like her doesn’t mean that I’m going to fawn over her, not by a fucking longshot!”

“But I’m not asking you to,” said Severus. “I didn’t bring you here to coerce you into accepting Rose. I brought you here to help you. Even Rose felt enough pity for you that she tried to help you the other night. But you are so blinded by your anger over our relationship that you cannot comprehend that. Even now, you don’t realize what you are doing.”

“Oh yeah, what am I doing?” Draco asked with a tight voice.

“You are projecting all of your anger towards your family onto us. You are allowing all of the bad your father has done to consume you. You are angry at your mother because she can’t comfort you anymore. Draco, you are letting yourself fall apart, and I just can’t allow that to happen. Wasn’t there a moment when you were talking with Rose you might have actually believed what she was saying?”

“I was vulnerable…”

“So was she, and so was I. But you admit that you did hear what she was saying. What she was trying to tell you is that no matter how bad it seems now, it will pass. You are not bound by Lucius’s madness; you won’t fall victim to it yourself. In fact, you should strive to show him who the better man is. And you will be a good brother for my child, no matter what they ultimately call you. They will simply be lucky to have you around.”

“I just have to deal with Rose Beckett,” Draco mumbled, pressing his eyes shut. Severus had to be honest; the look on the younger wizard’s face looked like he was being forced to have sex with a warty, old hag, or like he was being strapped to a chair in a Muggle brothel. Anything other than the simple task of associating with Rose.

“If your relationship with me means anything, you will,” he told Draco. “As I said, I’m not asking you to love her, or even like her. All I’m asking is that you give her a chance, and maybe you won’t have to bear such a burden. Make it about you, not Rose. Better yet, make it about you and the baby.”

Draco pondered hard, his gray eyes drawn inward. He wanted to be angry, furious even. After all, his father had failed him his entire life, and he sealed their fate by taking his stupid revenge out on Severus, hurting him, molesting him. And what scared Draco most of all as how much he idolized Lucius in the past. Who was to say that he didn’t also have that potential to rape? But then he thought about that little baby, yet to be born. Could he really turn his back on his own flesh and blood? Could he make up for all his family’s mistakes with one innocent life?

He looked up at Severus longingly, pleading some unknown question. But despite the ambiguity, Severus heard him, and he understood. “Draco, come here,” he asked quietly and calmly.  The blonde Slytherin was unsure of what the Potions master was asking of him, but slowly, he rose from his seat, and he inched his way over to Severus’s side. Without saying a word, Severus took hold of Draco’s wrist, and he laid the boy’s hand over the curve of his round bump. Within seconds, the baby pushed back against the unfamiliar palm. In spite of himself, Draco let out a breathy gasp, and the tears welled up as he tried to resist the smile.

“So how about it, Draco?” said Severus. “Can we all just start again?” Draco looked into Severus deep, dark eyes, catching that sense of familial longing that had him so tormented there. Then he looked down to where his hand rested, astounded by the feeling of the unborn baby’s kicking. And there, with so small a touch, Draco felt a connection unlike any other in his life. He was now bound to the baby as wanted family, and to Severus likewise. At last it hit him properly; he wasn’t being replaced, and he wasn’t being forgotten.

Wiping away the tear that ran down his pale cheek, Draco fell to his knees, letting go of all the pain and anguish, leaning on Severus’s chair and moving his hand along to follow the baby’s kicks around his professor’s belly. And Severus, greatly relieved to see the lift in tension from Draco’s shoulders, gently rested his hand over the crown of the latter’s head, just the way he had with a little blonde boy who sat at his feet so many years ago.

**~HP~**

For most of the day, Rose battled with a fleeting thought to throttle Lavender, or at least give her a good Silencing Spell. In every class, she got some sort of smirk from her more friendly classmates, as well as sneers from the not so friendly ones. It was easier to enjoy her birthday when her embarrassment was confined to her close friends and family. But attention like this just made her want to blend into the wall. If she hadn’t had an obligation to show her face eight times a day, she might have tempted Harry to lend her his invisibility cloak. But since that wasn’t an option, Rose had to resort to her old fallback, which was the attention-starved reputation of Gryffindor house. She made no comment on the embarrassing interest, nor did she try and deter it. She simply let it be, which ended up aiding her in her pursuit to maintain composure and sanity.

As she had predicted, the day’s lessons were a breeze. Rose considered herself lucky that her birthday fell on a date when they weren’t being particularly challenged by their professors, especially in the slacker haven of the Muggle Studies classroom. To her surprise, as they sat back to enjoy their viewing of _All Quiet on the Western Front_ , she was presented with a tiny cake by Professor Wicker, who liked to make a habit of acknowledging her students’ special days. Some people might have been turned off by the idea of eating while watching a war movie, but Rose was not one of them. To her, it just made it all the better for her, so she ought to enjoy it. People knew she was Wicker’s favorite anyway, so why fight it?

Harry met her outside Wicker’s classroom to run up to the library during their morning break. They had barely gotten a yard away from the door when a low voice called out Rose’s name. The two Gryffindors looked back carefully at Draco Malfoy as he approached them from the other end of the corridor.

“Leave her alone, Malfoy,” Harry commanded. Like everyone else, he had heard the story of his nemesis’s duel with Rose in the dungeons, and he took it upon himself to make sure the little rat didn’t come anywhere near his friend. “I can take house points from you, and I’m not afraid to do it.”

“Save your breath, Potter,” said Draco, with not as much cynicism as he could have utilized. “I need to have a word with Beckett, if you don’t mind.”

“You expect me to believe that?” asked Harry, but Rose touched his arm gently. The Head Boy looked to her, and he was a little stunned by the calm expression on her face.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she said. “I can handle this.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t need to go getting detention today.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Rose stepped forward toward the Slytherin. “You go on, I’ll catch up later.” Harry was obviously quite hesitant, as anyone would be after their kind of history. But Harry had also learned a thing or two about Rose, especially when it came to trusting her instinct. If Rose didn’t trust the situation, she wouldn’t leap right into it. Dearly hoping that she knew what she was doing, Harry gave his head a nod and he slowly went on his way. Rose didn’t make another move until he was gone.

“So, you here for a rematch?” she asked Draco with a weak sarcasm.

“Just follow me,” said Draco, and he turned to head back the way he came. Rose was a bit skeptical, but she showed no fear, and she started off after him.

As Draco led the way to one of the more remote stairwells, Rose tried to keep her eyes on the back of his blonde head. It must have been an odd sight to see these two walking together so soon after a violent duel, but Rose was not interested in seeing people’s reactions. At this point, she just wanted to see what Draco wanted with her so she could carry on with her day.

Just when Rose started debating whether or not she could slip away unnoticed, they came to a rot-eaten door in a neglected corner of the dungeons, and Draco pushed it open with a rattling creak. Rose could have been knocked over by the stench of dust and decay, and she resisted the urge to use her jumper to cover her nose. Draco nodded for her to enter, which Rose did without concern, and when she was inside the little abandoned storeroom, Draco shut the door behind them.

“Must we talk in here, Draco?” asked Rose. “You haven’t lured me down here to kill me, have you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco sneered. He kicked over a pair of old wooden crates from the side of the room. “Sit down.” Looking very skeptical with a significant arch in her brow, Rose lowered herself down onto the old wooden box, resting her books on her lap. Draco allowed her a moment to settle before he sat down on the crate beside her.

“Alright, so what do you want?” asked Rose.

“Well,” Draco began, almost like he wasn’t sure how to begin. “I just wanted to talk to you about what happened the other day…you know…between us.”

“You mean the duel or the detention?”

“A little of both, but mostly the detention.” The Slytherin smeared his hand over his face from his forehead to his chin. “I’ve been thinking about the things you said to me that night.”

Rose flinched ever so slightly, twitching her eyes to glance at Draco from the side. “Yes?”

“Did you actually mean what you said?” asked Draco, and Rose’s face relaxed with surprise.

“I did,” she said. “I know I can be as nasty as the next witch when I want to be, but I also know when to put that contempt aside. What else could I have said to you after hearing the things you admitted?”

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” said Draco, shaking his head. But Rose simply pointed a finger at his pale face. “Right mind or not, you still said it. Frankly, I wondered if you were being genuine that night.”

“I couldn’t lie like that. I didn’t have it in me after everything that happened. You better not have told anyone else about what I said.”

“No,” said Rose. “Before Severus and I were together, whenever we spoke of private matters, it was always under terms of complete secrecy. And given what you’ve been through, I thought I should extend that gesture to you.”

“I appreciate it,” said Draco. “But anyway, about you and Severus. I thought about the things you said the other day, and I thought back on the last few months. He’s been so much more peaceful since the beginning of the year.”

“So you have noticed,” Rose mused aloud, and Draco nodded. “I’m not as blind as you think I am. But I honestly thought it was because of the baby. It didn’t really dawn on me until recently that it was because of you.”

“It wasn’t all because of me,” said Rose. “He’s not exactly dreading becoming a father. It’s just the right things happening to him at the right time.”

“I still don’t think he would have been nearly as content if he hadn’t gotten himself laid along the way,” Draco muttered, and Rose glared at him. “Before you start jumping down my throat about how in love you are, I want you to listen. I’ve known Severus my entire life, and I know how difficult it is for him to relate to people. I would be a fool to think that he could hook up with just any girl. I still have no idea what he sees in you –,”

“You know, you’re not really helping yourself there,” Rose commented with her cocked flaxen brow. She started twisting the ends of her red hair around the tips of her fingers.

“Just hear me out,” said Draco. “I still have no idea what he sees in you, but you must be doing something right if he’s this happy with you.”

Rose let out a soft sigh, still twisting her hair. “I can’t take all the credit, Draco. Severus has waited a long time to find someone that he could call his own. A year ago, he thought his chances at love were as good as gone. And yet here we are. Severus didn’t fall in love because of something I did. He fell in love because he saw something that he wanted and needed in a partner. And it’s the same reason why I fell in love with him.”

“You’re actually serious about this,” murmured Draco. “He has so much to lose.”

“And so do I,” replied Rose. “What are you going to do about it?”

Draco was quiet for a moment, sending a shiver up Rose’s spine. When it came to this guy, she had no real idea what silence meant, or whether it was good or not. But before she could swallow her nerves, Draco turned his head to her and said, “I’m going to make sure that no one else hears about this.”

“Really?” Rose gasped softly.

“I’m not going to take away something that has made my godfather so happy. You’re right, Rose. He’s waited far too long for something like this, and for me to interfere…well, it would be selfish.”

“But it’s me. You would let this continue even if it’s me of all people?”

Draco sighed. “On many occasions, I wished to see you get what you deserved. But the other night, I kind of got an idea about why those good-for-nothing Gryffindors like you so much. You didn’t have to show me that kindness, not after nearly blasting you into the walls.”

“I have enough grudges to hold without adding you to the list,” said Rose.

“I can imagine,” Draco remarked. “But anyway, for Severus’s sake, I am willing to work with you.”

“I am too, but only if you treat me with proper respect. I won’t stand being insulted for something as innocuous as my blood status.”

“I can try,” said Draco, making Rose’s eyes roll to the dungeon ceiling. “At this point, I’m willing to try anything. It seems that neither of us are going anywhere any time soon. And I mean, we both want to be there when that baby comes, don’t we?”

“That we do,” Rose nodded.

“Then we’ve got to do what we have to in order to make this work.” Draco’s knuckles paled slightly as they rested on his knees. “Severus’s child is also my half-sibling, and I want to be a part of his or her life. If associating with you is what I have to do to get to see him or her, then so be it.”

 The corners of Rose’s mouth irked up into a small smile. “That’s very honorable of you, Draco. It may be a bit early to say, but I think you’ll make a good big brother.”

“Now hold on a second,” said Draco, pointing his finger at Rose’s face. “Before you start getting all mushy on me, I want to make something clear. I am not your friend.”

“Yeah, and I’m not your friend,” said Rose. “We’re just two people who have a pregnant Potions master in common, and nothing more.”

“Good,” Draco nodded. “The last thing I need is for my housemates to think I’ve abandoned them for a Gryffindor.” The Slytherin then hauled himself up to his feet, and he pressed his ear against the door. “You should probably go back the way we came.”

“Why? It’s completely out of the way,” Rose commented. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I just walked to the main stairwell?”

“Well, let me explain something to you, Rose,” said Draco. “Since we broke up, Pansy has been following me around. She’s completely convinced that I dumped her for someone else, and she won’t rest until she finds out who it is. If she sees you following me out of here, she’ll be on us faster than a Manticore on its wounded prey.”

“Good point,” said Rose. She gripped her things to her chest as she heaved herself up off her crate, pausing only to be sure of her balance. “One more thing?”

“Yes?” asked Draco, his own brow starting to twitch up.

“Does Severus know that you’re talking to me now?”

Draco shook his head, his gray eyes closing in reflection. “No, he doesn’t, and I have no intention of telling him either.”

“Good, because I wasn’t going to say anything either.” Rose relaxed her stance and she approached the storeroom door. “I suppose I should expect to see more of you.”

“When Severus needs me, I’ll be there,” said Draco. He turned the old rusty door handle, and he stepped to the side of the open arch. “Now go, get out of here.”

“Have a nice day to you too,” said Rose with a whiff of sarcasm. She was about to make her quickly getaway when Draco cleared his throat suddenly. Assuming he had more to say, she turned around calmly to her Slytherin classmate.

“I should probably say something…I heard today’s your birthday. I guess I hope you have a decent day.”

Rose’s jaw dropped open, and her fair brow arched up in surprise. “Uh…thanks…that’s nice of you. I’m going to go tell my housemates to shut up now.”

“You might want to start with that Brown girl. She’s giggling nonsense to just about everyone in our year.”

“For once Draco, you and I both have the right idea.” Rose tittered to herself, which prompted Draco to do the same. Feeling satisfied with herself and the situation, the Gryffindor then turned to make the long trek back up to the higher floors. In spite of the fact that she had to walk up five flights of stairs, Rose walked at a fairly lively pace. She and Draco weren’t friends. They likely never would be. But Severus could take comfort in the effort they were both giving, and in the alliance that was slowly forming between them.

**~HP~**

For the remainder of her classes, Rose might as well have had her hand glued to the side of her face. Try as she may, she could not contain Lavender’s giddiness, which progressively spread to Parvati, and then to her sister Padma. This led to unprecedented levels of unneeded attention that Rose neither wanted nor needed on her nineteenth birthday. That of course led to the aforementioned hand on her face, shielding her eyes and reddening cheeks from view. At this point, Rose could not possibly wait for classes to be over so she could escape to Gryffindor tower. Sure, there would be some more ridiculous celebrating waiting for her there, but at least it would only be her housemates, not to mention the lovely fact that she had her and Hermione’s private room to duck into.

Divination proved to be the biggest test of the day. Rose thought it would be a difficult feat to annoy her any more than usual, and yet this particular class passed with nauseating colors. Leaning heavily with her elbow propped on the tabletop, she drummed her fingers on the overly embroidered cloth, keeping only one ear open to the lesson. Frankly, she had better things to think about, mostly about what would happen once she got down to Severus’s quarters after nightfall. All she had to do was get through the next thirty minutes without pulling her hair out.

“As you know, my children, time and space are all interconnected through the great cosmos,” Trelawney lamented, floating amongst the Seventh year class. As usual, her bracelet-laden hands and wrists were hovering in the air, the focus point for many of the students. “The future may be seen all around you, but no matter which way it is determined, it always has its roots in time.”

Rose rolled her eyes, right along with a half-dozing collection of students. That was a concept as old as time itself, and they all knew it before they set foot in Trelawney’s tower. At this point, it was enough to convince Rose that the old bat had absolutely no idea what she was doing, and she resorted to repeating the scraps of lessons long ago.

Trelawney continued in her fluttery tone. “As some of you have already learned from Professor Vector, there is meaning in every number. They can tell you everything there is to know about an individual. Likewise, there is individual meaning for everyone in calendar days. But what is often left unknown is that some calendar days bind us all together into a single fortune, gives us all a reason to be wary. And today happens to be one such day.”

_‘Oh no, here we go…’_ Rose thought to herself, and she turned her gaze down to the rug beneath her feet.

“In the year 44 B.C., a Roman seer foresaw a great travesty that would befall Julius Caesar, the great ruler of the ancient Muggle empire. He attempted to pass warning, but Caesar was a proud man and dismissed it. On this very day, over two thousand ago, Caesar was stabbed to death at the hands of his fellow Romans. To this day, the fifteenth of March has remained synonymous with great misfortune, forever becoming an omen that has stirred fear and caution into the hearts of many. Dynasties have ended, governments have disintegrated, wars have erupted, and catastrophes have claimed lives. Not much can explain these occurrences, except the fact that they all happened on the same day. Because of this, we must all be careful. Some of us already have troubles waiting for us in the future, but that number could grow by the end of this evening. Already, I see some grim things in your futures.”

Lavender and Parvati looked to their right, and they frowned to see Rose hiding her mouth behind her folded fingers as she supported her chin under her thumbs, clearly ignoring all that was being said.

“Mister Corner,” exclaimed Trelawney, making people jump. She calmly walked over to the Ravenclaw’s table. “You will be quite ill tomorrow, so mind what you eat tonight. And Mister Boot, beware of your Quidditch teammates.” Leaving their side, the professor slunk to the other side of the room, and there was a collective inhale in the room. “Miss Abbot, a past experience will come back to haunt you by the end of this month. I wouldn’t look so relieved if I were you, Mister Macmillan. That counts for you as well.”

Rose suppressed the urge to growl in her throat. Now this class was just plain unbearable. Going from a history lesson to random, aimless predictions that had nothing to do with the lesson’s premise, it was driving her to madness! She now started wondering what would happen if she simply got up and left. What’s a few lost house points compared to a birthday ruined by your own rotten mood? But not wanting to draw attention to herself, Rose tried her best to at least appear like she was paying attention. She tilted her head up to follow Trelawney with her eyes, keeping her ears open to Parvati’s ticking wristwatch.

Suddenly, Trelawney’s wispy pacing stopped, and she paused in the middle of the floor. She stared off into the distance, as though looking at something only she could see, and her expression fell. The eyes behind the huge glasses shut, and Trelawney shook her head. Rose felt her stomach drop as her professor turned to face her.

“Miss Beckett,” she whispered. “Your aura is very dark this day, and Mars will be so bright tonight. Dark things await you at every turn, my dear. Your days will come under attack, and you shall lose what you cherish most to your greatest fear. Oh…oh, the horrors I see.”

There was a piercing pain in Rose’s chest as her heart froze over.

The last bell of the day rang through Hogwarts, seemingly snapping Trelawney out of whatever level of crazy she had wondered into. Finally free of this rambling rubbish, the class moved for the exit like a gigantic herd of cattle. Lavender and Parvati also gathered their things together, though they were slow to follow their classmates, especially when they noticed that Rose hadn’t moved to rise from her seat.

“Are you alright, Rose?” asked Lavender. Rose’s already fair face had paled, draining the color from her cheeks. And her once rapping fingers sat still on top of the embroidered cloth on the table. The ginger witch stared down into space, and she swallowed subtly. “Rose?”

The mention of her name jogged Rose back to the present, and she shook her senses back into her mind. “Yeah – yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Let’s just get out of here.” Rose grabbed her bag and books and dashed past her two girlfriends toward the exit.

“Are you sure?” said Parvati. “You look a little peaky.”

“I said I’m fine, girls,” Rose repeated, a little more firmly. “Come on, let’s go. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to get pissed.” Lavender flinched slightly, and she looked around to see if anyone heard that. Thankfully, Trelawney had already disappeared into her quarters. She and Parvati exchanged concerned looks, and they followed Rose out into the hallways toward their common room.

**~HP~**

“You know, you really shouldn’t be getting so flustered,” Ron said, sitting cross-legged on his bed. “It’s not like you haven’t gotten predictions from the old loon before. Don’t you remember that time she said you would be drowned by the Grindylows in the lake?”

Rose sat on the floor, cradling her knees close to her body, and her face was still etched with the long, distant expression she had finished classes with. Harry sat comfortably at her side as he leaned his back against the bedpost. The instant the Head Boy saw the look on Rose’s face when she walked in that afternoon, he ganged up on her with his two favorite wingmen, and he ushered her up to his private dormitory for what looked to be a much-needed talk.

“It isn’t the same thing, Ron,” said Rose. “Those stupid predictions I’ve gotten over the years were nothing to me. It was as though Trelawney said those things just to get a reaction out of me. And it wasn’t like I actually believed any of it. I mean come on, when was the last time I went swimming in the lake? But today it was just different.”

“Did Trelawney seem to be acting strange?” asked Harry, an arch inching up his brow. Rose glanced bewilderedly at him out of the corner of her eye. “No more strange than usual.”

“I think we should look at this a different way,” said Hermione, who was straddling Ron’s shoulders from behind, her cheek resting on his upper back. “Trelawney said that danger awaits you at every turn. She could have been referring to you and Severus. You two are always running the risk of people finding out about your relationship. The danger could be to your romantic life, as opposed to your physical life.”

“That wasn’t what bothered me,” Rose said with a short shake of the head.

“Then what was?” asked Ron.

“It was the way she said it. The way she spoke to me, it didn’t feel like it was as much of a threat, not to me personally.” Rose let out a soft sigh, gripping her knees a little tighter. “She said I would lose what I cherish most to my worst fear.”

“That’s Severus, isn’t it?” said Hermione, and Rose nodded as her eyes shut slowly.

“I value his life more than my own,” she said. “I love all my friends deeply, but if something were to happen to him…I…I don’t know what I would do.” Feeling the emptiness growing in her stomach, Rose leaned to the side to rest her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You don’t think this has got something to do with his pregnancy, do you?” asked Ron.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s what Rose fears the most,” Harry mused out loud. He then paused for a second’s thought before turning his head to the one resting against him. “Is it?”

“No, it’s not,” said Rose. She then pursed her lips into a heavy silence, letting her friends know that there would be no further explanation. As close as she was to these three people, she couldn’t bring herself to discuss that particular matter with them. She was already showing them enough weakness by getting so unnerved by such a vague statement. Besides, everyone was in a good mood that day, and Rose didn’t want to do anything to drag that down.

“You know Rose, you shouldn’t get too worked up,” said Hermione, gently scratching at Ron’s chest and receiving a low purr in response. “Professor Trelawney has been completely right probably only twice in her life. This prediction is no more credible than any of the others she has given you. And besides, thinking back on what you have told us, each of those previous predictions were preventable. If you’re worried about something happening to Severus, then you should do everything in your power to make sure that doesn’t happen. You do that enough already.”

“Hermione’s right,” said Harry. “You were willing to fight us for Snape, and you actually gave Malfoy a piece of your mind. As long as you’re around, the old bat should have nothing to worry about.”

_‘There’s only so much I can do,’_ Rose silently lamented. Harry of all people should know that some things in life were just out of your hands. Some fates were preordained, with nothing that could alter them. She would protect Severus as well as she could, but what would happen when she reached the limit of her abilities? Rose knew her friends were trying to be encouraging, but Rose didn’t feel any better than she did when she walked in the common room.

A hearty knock beat against the door, and Harry called out for them to enter. Seamus leaned in, hanging onto the door handle with one hand while the other gripped a bottle of Fire Whiskey. “So here you all are,” he said with a sneaky grin. “Lavender’s been twitching waiting for Rose to come down. She and Parvati have got a chocolate cake for us, and she won’t let Dean and I take any until Rose has her share.”

Harry’s eyebrow perked up, and he gently knocked Rose in the shoulder. The fatigued witch shook her head with a smile, and she stumbled to her feet, offering a hand to Harry. She was about to step toward the door when she noticed that Hermione and Ron hadn’t moved. In fact, Hermione was a little busy nuzzling the side of her boyfriend’s freckled face.

“Are you two coming?” asked Rose, cocking her head to the side.

“Uh…you go on ahead,” said Ron as his cheeks flushed. “We’ll catch up later.”

Both Harry and Rose were skeptical, impishly so even. But they both nodded their understanding and made for the door. However, just before she left, Rose turned to the couple and threw them a sly smirk. The meek expression she got from Ron told her that her point got across just fine. She knew how long it took to do anything of an intimate nature. And when it came to having your romantic life aired out for the world to hear, Rose was not the person to do it.

Hermione assured them that they would be along shortly, and both Harry and Rose agreed trusted her word more than Ron’s. They left them alone in the dormitory room and went down to the sitting area where the cake and liquor waited for them.

**~HP~**

And so it was that all of Gryffindor’s Seventh years forwent any dinner plans in favor of their well-mannered frivolity. Birthday parties tended to be more intimate affairs in that particular common room, but they were no less fun than the wildest Quidditch celebration. They indulged in the house-elves’ best chocolate cake, and they drank themselves into a happy mood to last them the weekend. Rose for her part took it all in stride; it was nice that her housemates appreciated her this much, and they were generous to give her this little party. But no amount of sweets or liquor could keep her away from the only place she really wanted to be on her special day. Material gifts were nice, but love’s perfect company was the best.

When she arrived at the pregnant Potions master’s chambers after darkness had fallen, she was greeted by the sight of a bubbling bath and the scent of rose petals. Of course, Rose thought to herself. Leave it to Severus to go above and beyond to make this night better than she expected. Needless to say, he was rewarded with a deep snog as Rose struggled to unsnap her bra.

“I had hoped you would come to me earlier,” said Severus, leaning back against the warm porcelain, water gently lapping all around. The bathtub was big enough for two, and Rose had insisted that she would not enjoy her soak without him. She now lay comfortably tucked into his side, her legs straddled between his under the water’s surface.

“You know my friends,” Rose replied, her head resting on her lover’s broad chest. “They wouldn’t let me forget my birthday, and they wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I’m sure,” Severus nodded. “But I sense that it had less to do with that than other things in your day.”

“Everything’s fine, Sev,” said Rose. Her hand surfaced above the bubbles and it gently rested on the curve of Severus’s rounded middle. “Aside from overexcited housemates, I’ve had no trouble.”

“That’s not what I heard,” said Severus, and Rose shifted her head to meet his eye. “Draco told me about Trelawney’s prediction.”

Rose shook her head. “It was nothing.”

“He said that you looked unnerved as you left.”

“Draco doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Rose replied, shaking her head gently. In her heart, she was actually touched that Draco cared enough to even notice. But that was of very little concern to her at the moment.

“Rosie, you rather underestimate Draco,” Severus told her. “If he did not know what he was doing, would he have walked all the way down here to explain why I had not seen my girlfriend on her birthday?”

“I suppose not.” The baby kicked under Rose’s hand, and Severus winced slightly. Rose moved her fingertips over the spot in a gentle circle. “I’m over it, Sev. I talked about it enough with my friends. I don’t need to talk about it anymore.”

“If you say so,” said Severus. He softly kissed the top of Rose’s head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Rose shifted closer, and Severus brought his arm up to cradle her at his side. “You know I only ask because I love you.”

“I know you do,” said Rose, and she tilted her head up and kissed Severus down his jawline. The expectant wizard’s eyes drifted closed, and he hummed his satisfaction. “A girl couldn’t ask for more. You know, I’ve always wanted to have sex in a bath.” Rose slowly slipped out of Severus’s grasp. Very carefully, she mounted herself over her pregnant lover to straddle his hips between her legs.

“Oh Rosie, you mustn’t,” Severus pleaded, though both his face and his tone of voice betrayed the sarcasm riling up to help stir the mood.

“Oh don’t worry, Professor Snape,” Rose tittered in excitement. “I’ll be gentle.” A white hand rose up out of the water, and the fragrant bubbles were rubbed over the witch’s naked body. Rose arched her back and leaned in for the consuming snog.

Just under thirty minutes and a reached peak later, Rose and Severus emerged from the bath dripping wet and pleasantly exhausted. With their sexual romp out of the way, the couple retired to the comfort of Severus’s bed. It was a weeknight, and they wanted to make the most out of Rose’s limited time in the dungeons before she had to return to her tower.

“That was clever of you,” said Severus, pulling his oversized nightshirt on over his head, a heap of wet towels at his feet.

“What was?” asked Rose, who was in the middle of brushing her long red hair.

“Using sex to distract me from a discussion.”

Rose paused only briefly before turning her head to Severus. “That’s a very creative thought, love. I wish it was true.”

“Rose,” Severus sternly said as he shifted closer to her side, struggling slightly under his heavy pregnant body. “If you think you can lie to me now after all this time, you are sadly mistaken. I know your mind is heavy, and I am not letting you leave until you tell me why.”

“Then you’ll have to explain three days from now why no one has seen me in a while.”

“Rose…” Severus cocked his head at Rose, giving her his best teacher’s glare. Though Rose had often considered herself immune from this look, she felt a shiver in her stomach that was not unlike the one that used to run up her spine when she was a First year.

“Why is this so important to you?” she asked.

“It’s simple,” said Severus. He wrapped his arm around Rose’s shoulder, and the young witch reached up for his hand. “Your troubles are my troubles. You have enough concern for myself and the baby that it seems prudent to return the favor.”

Rose gripped her lover’s hand as she glanced at him from the corner of her blue eye. She knew that Severus could very easily see into her thoughts; she had no means of defense against it. But he had sworn to her that he had enough trust in her that he would never do that to her. But it still amazed her that she was so easy to read when she thought she was being discrete. With a short glance down at the bed sheets, Rose breathed in and let out a soft sigh.

“It just gave me a bad feeling, Sev,” she said quietly. “I can’t explain why, but…but it was different from the other predictions Trelawney has given me over the years.”

“How so?” asked Severus.

“It wasn’t my welfare that was being threatened.” Though Rose had not repeated Trelawney’s words, Severus knew exactly what she meant. He hugged her closer, gently rubbing her arm, though he could not coax her to look up at him.

“You would lose what you cherish most,” he said, recalling what Draco had told him that afternoon. “You mean me.”

“Yes,” said Rose. “Trelawney has prophesied about my death three times before. As asinine as it may be, I wish she had done it again today. I no longer fear death, Severus. I would lay down my own life if it would protect you from harm.”

“Rose, calm yourself,” said Severus, pressing a kiss to the young witch’s pale forehead. “There is nothing to fear with me. Pomfrey assures that both the baby and I are safe and well, and though I believe I am perfectly capable of defending myself, I am well protected. After all, I have four reckless Gryffindors in my inner circle.”

“Severus,” Rose mumbled. “Though the thought of something happening to you makes me sick, that wasn’t what really bothered me.”

“Then what was?”

“If something did happen to you, it would be because of my weakness.”

Severus’s grasp went lithe, and his hand drifted off Rose’s shoulder to the bed. Of all the people in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds, only he could have known such a deeply held secret of Rose’s. She had experienced loss in her life, grave loss that would follow her for the rest of her life. Dante Macleod’s death was a wound that would never heal. But no matter what anyone could say to Rose, she would never be able to take comfort in his eternal peace, and it was for only one reason. She blamed herself for his death.

“You cannot let yourself think that way,” he told Rose. “Fear is a self-fulfilling prophesy, and if you do not overcome fear, you become it.”

“That might work for other girls, but not for me,” Rose said very grimly. “I’ve made too many mistakes in my life, Severus. I can’t let one more take you from me.”

“That won’t happen, Rose.” Severus took Rose’s face in both hands, gazing right into those blue eyes that even in despair enchanted him. “You are not some abysmal failure. You are a skilled witch and a strong woman. If I had to trust my life in the hands of anyone, it would be yours.”

“But I’m only human,” said Rose, her voice almost at its breaking point. “I can only do so much.”

“And I have the faith that you would exhaust all of your efforts for me…for us.” Severus guided Rose’s soft hand to his swollen middle, and the young witch let out a breath. “As long as we have each other, nothing will happen.”

Rose wanted to believe her boyfriend. She so wanted to believe him. But he couldn’t tell her that everything would be fine when it hadn’t been in the very recent past. She couldn’t protect Dante from his untimely death. She could barely protect her family from the dangers of Voldemort’s regime. Rose knew she was not a divine figure. She had her limits both physically and magically. Though Severus believed in her and her abilities, Rose could not rule out the chance of history repeating itself.

Severus cupped her face again, and he placed another kiss to her forehead. This time however, Rose smiled, sheepishly as it was. The pregnant wizard then started to move to the other side of the bed. “I have something for you, love.”

“Oh Sev,” Rose hummed. “You didn’t!”

“You didn’t think that great sex was all you were getting for your birthday, did you?” Severus opened up his bedside drawer, and out came the familiar red box that wooed Rose in the fall. Carefully, he held it out for Rose to take. Rose gave him an impish sort of grin, and her cheeks flushed pink. The small box sitting in her palm, he simply looked at Severus, who gave her a gentle nod. Rose pried open the box, and the gasp caused her jaw to drop.

“Of all the things you’ve gotten today, I thought you deserved this the most,” said Severus. Rose was speechless as she looked down at the jewel box. The ring was a solid silver band, encrusted with tiny diamonds. And set in amongst the little stones was a row of colored gems; green peridot, amber, rose quartz, and aquamarine. Rose brought her hand up to her mouth, and her eyes glistened.

“I’m afraid that it isn’t anything too official,” said Severus, quickly nixing any suspicions of a proposal. “But I did want to show you that I am committed to you. A girl as wonderful as you deserves to have something to show for in her relationship.”

Severus had barely stopped speaking when Rose lunged forward and ensnared his lips with hers. Thin arms wrapped over his shoulders, holding him tightly. Very much a practiced man, Severus fell into their romantic rhythm, and once they broke apart, he saw the trail of a tear that ran down Rose’s face.

“It’s beautiful, Sev,” said Rose, trying to keep control of her tone. Severus took the ring out of its box, and he easily slipped it onto Rose’s right hand.

“Just so no one goes getting the wrong idea,” he explained, to which Rose just giggled.

“You think I care about that?” she said. She leaned downward and spoke to the unborn child in her lover’s belly. “Your daddy knows how to treat a lady. You’ll be lucky if you’re a girl.” Severus brought her back up with a finger under her chin, and Rose leaned in for another generous snog. At the end of the day, this couple could do without words, just as long as the passion was good and strong.

**~HP~**

Though the night could have stretched on forever, the clock did still strike the eleven o’clock hour, and it came all too soon for Severus and Rose. Wrapped in each other’s arms, the only place they wanted to be was there on that bed. As the bells of Rose’s Time-detection charm chimed, Severus looked forlornly over his shoulder at the time.

“You should be going,” he said, looking down at the witch snuggled beside him.

“Oh Sev,” Rose groaned in a slightly childish way. “Do I have to?”

“It’s a weeknight, Rose,” reminded Severus. “I don’t want you to leave either, but you know you have to mind your curfew.”

Rose groaned again, but the adult part of her brain overruled the child, and she realized that Severus was right. As though some invisible crowbar was wedging its way between their bodies, Rose slowly pried herself away from Severus, stumbling slightly on her overly rested feet. She took a short moment to make sure she looked presentable, flicking her hair and adjusting her clothes. But before she could take one more step, she sat back down on the bed and grabbed Severus’s shoulder for one more kiss.

“Happy birthday, Rosie,” said Severus, chuckling in his throat. Giggling in response, Rose thanked him, and with a smile on her face and a ring on her right finger, she left him in the darkness of his bedchamber and slunk away into the dungeon halls.

Getting to Gryffindor tower proved to be quite difficult on this night. Rose hadn’t gotten very far when she had a near encounter with the Bloody Baron, which kept her behind a corner for quite some time. Holding her breath, she dashed through the dark halls to the stairs, amazing herself that she could move so quietly on two inch heels. On the third floor, she nearly tripped over Mrs. Norris in the middle of the floor, and resisting the overwhelming urge to kick the old dust rag over the stair railing, she quickly made for her alternate route so as to avoid Filch, who was no doubt not far behind. And just when Rose thought that it couldn’t get any worse, she came across Sinistra prowling around in Severus’s absence. As ironic as it was, Rose couldn’t have been more relieved when she finally arrived at her common room.

On the tips of her toes, Rose silently made her way up the stairs of the girls’ dormitories. She kept an ear open as she passed each door, all of which were as quiet as she was. When she approached her dormitory door, the only sound she could hear was her own breath. Without a care, Rose leaned on the door handle and pushed her tired form through the archway and into the room. She was about to move toward her bed when a sudden rustling stopped her in her tracks.

Ron Weasley’s head surfaced above the rumpled red duvet, sweaty and squinty-eyed. He let out a disoriented grunt, and he toppled over onto his left side. Hermione then popped up to stare wide-eyed at her roommate.

Rose’s eyebrows met her hairline at the sight. She knew that Hermione and Ron were no more innocent than any other couple, but nothing could have prepared her to see them huddled together, gripping the sheets to their bodies. Rose didn’t even have the mind to wonder how the hell Ron got up there in the first place. All she could do was stand there like a confused child who had just walked in on her parents.

“I’m going to go back down to the dungeons,” she finally muttered, pointing down the stairs. “Let’s just keep this between us, okay?”

“Okay,” meeped Hermione with a short, breathless nod. Before she or Ron could say anything else, Rose shuffled out, shutting the door behind her. She allowed the odd shiver to run down her spine before setting off down the steps. Just when Rose thought she was immune to anything life had to throw at her, she had to be smacked upside the head with a weirdness that was just too weird for words.

**~HP~**

Severus was in the midst of a light sleep when he suddenly felt a breath of wind against his back as the blankets were lifted, to be swiftly replaced by a warm mass. Drowsily, he shifted his body so that he could glance over his shoulder and peer into the darkness of his bedroom.

“Rose?” he whispered, noticing the pale hand that rested on his arm. “What are you doing back here?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” mumbled Rose.

“Try me…”

“I just walked in on Hermione and Ron.”

“What?” rasped Severus, jolted by the unsavory image that invaded his mind.

“Oh, no need to sound so dramatic. They weren’t swinging from the bedposts or anything.” Rose relaxed her body and spooned behind her lover, conforming to his shape. Her hand rested naturally on the curve of his belly. “I think they just wanted a little more alone time.”

“So you walked all the way back down here?” asked Severus, laying his hand on top of Rose’s.

“I don’t mind,” said Rose. “I don’t mind waking up early either. I manage, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.”

Rose’s nuzzled her nose into the crook of Severus’s neck, humming softly to herself. “Don’t you think we could get used to this?” she asked. “I always sleep better here than I do in Gryffindor tower.”

“You would have to get up before dawn every morning,” said Severus. His words were extended by a yawn that suddenly crept up on him.

“I can manage that,” replied Rose. “We all make some sacrifices for love. What’s extra sleep compared to being with you?”

Had he been more awake, Severus might have been able to make a decent argument. But the late hour combined with Rose’s calming presence made the Gryffindor’s proposition look better by the minute. They had been spending weekends together for nearly two months by then, and Rose never been caught out of bed once. If she could maintain the same caution, as before, then they could potentially make this work. That however, Severus sleepily thought to himself, was a discussion for another time. He settled back down into bed, Rose still caressing him from behind.

She deserved to spend the last few minutes of her birthday exactly how she wanted.


	71. Shadows in the moonlight

To his own surprise, Severus adjusted to his and Rose’s new living arrangements remarkably well. After living alone for virtually his entire life, the Potions master had his doubts about having an almost live-in girlfriend. But Rose was an easy person to board with. Every evening after supper, she would help Severus attend to any remaining duties he had before retiring to his quarters together. Free of the curfews at last, they were finally able to enjoy each other’s company to their hearts’ content, make love at their leisure, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. In a word, it was bliss. The only thing that Severus wasn’t prepared for was just how quickly Rose would claim his territory as her own. Within a day after her birthday, Severus discovered that one of his drawers had been cleaned out, and it now contained a piece of every sort of clothing Rose owned short of her school uniform. One of her bras kept appearing on the back of the bedroom door. And Severus got the jolt of his life when he went into the washroom medicine cabinet and found a small supply of feminine hygiene products. But all in all, it was a pleasant little life. There was no real change to their relationship. Rose had simply taken on a more wifely role, and she glowed like the expectant mother she considered herself to be. Severus couldn’t help but wonder how he got so lucky, and in those fleeting moments when he lay with a sleeping Rose on his shoulder, Severus let his thoughts wander to their future.

Could the two of them live this way forever? Could it even get better?

**~HP~**

Severus tried as much as he could not to collapse as he sat down on a hallway bench. He cursed himself for being foolish enough to walk up all those flights of stairs and knocking the wind out of himself. He also just resisted the urge to growl as his burdened back twinged. At the moment, the only good thing about glamour magic seemed to be that it allowed him to see his own shoes. Even though a simple Feather-weight Charm took away much of the heaviness centered around his seven-months-pregnant belly, it did not fully rid him of the strain of his gravid condition. True, he did say that he wanted to work for as long as his body allowed. But didn’t those meddling colleagues of his say that they would do anything to help? If they couldn’t or wouldn’t fly right to his side for any reason other than an emergency, then couldn’t they at least move office to somewhere closer to the ground floor? Severus thought rather bitterly of how natural a thought that should have been to a certain headmaster, and he rolled his eyes as he remembered the reason for his overexerted upward climb. The things he had to do for his work! Where was Draco or another one of those bumbling brats when you really needed them?

After giving himself a moment to regain proper breath, Severus carefully pushed himself to his feet, and he shuffled the short distance to where Dumbledore’s sentinel gargoyle stood stoically at the end of the hall. It took him a moment to think up this week’s password, but the words eventually found their way back to the forefront of his mind, and the ancient stone figure moved to reveal the winding staircase.

“Severus, dear boy!” Albus gasped as Severus stepped through his office door. Seeing the slightly breathless expression in the younger wizard’s face, he instantly gestured toward a nearby chair. “Please, come sit down. What were you thinking, walking all the way up here? Don’t you know what that could do to someone in your condition? You must be exhausted.”

“Don’t patronize me, Albus,” said Severus, slumping down into the chair. “I wouldn’t have bothered at all if it wasn’t necessary.”

“You could have sent me a message.” The elderly headmaster noticed the slow intake of breath as Severus winced, and how he shifted in his place, the tell-tale signs of the magical discomforts on his already uncomfortable body. “Here, allow me to take those pesky charms off you.”

“I am perfectly capable of doing it myself, and it is my experience that messages cannot be trusted in this castle.” Severus took his time in retrieving his wand from the folds of black robes, casually lifting his crafty spells with a flick of his wrist. The Potions master then set his wand down on Albus’s desk, and leaned back into his chair. The baby kicked him in the ribs, and both hands went to his stomach.

“Very well, Severus,” said Albus, and he sat down in the chair next to his expectant colleague. “It is almost hard to believe that in just under three months, you will be a father.”

“Indeed,” muttered Severus. He had to admit that even after all this time, that was a concept that he still could not quite grasp. Fatherhood was something he could definitely see, and it was much more appealing now that he had built a life with Rose, albeit in secret. But even if he had more confidence than he did when this began, there was no way he could be sure until his child arrived. It was a fact that Albus knew and understood, and the old wizard nodded with a subtle smile.

“Now, my boy,” Albus began, folding his arms across his chest. “What is it that you wish to speak to me about? It must be important if you saw to it yourself and came all the way up here.”

“I’m completely out of Fluxweed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” said the headmaster, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He had rather expected something of a more pressing urgency than a missing Potions ingredient, but the seriousness in Severus’s face was too funny to resist. “Yes, the Seventh year transfiguring brew lecture is coming up, isn’t it? Well Severus, I’m sure we could get a new supply sent to us in time for the lesson.”

“We could do that if we wanted the class not to have an example potion,” said Severus. “Albus, the potions they are being shown all require Fluxweed that has been picked at midnight under the full moon. If we simply order more stock from an apothecary, there is no real way we can be sure of the quality of the herb. Why would we do with that when there are perfectly good specimens in the forest? Come on Albus, you know this as well as I do.”

Albus chuckled as he shook his head. “Sometimes, you think too much like a Potions master. So what you are trying to tell me is that you wish to have someone collect a sample, correct?”

“Not exactly,” Severus shook his head. “If it is going into my stores and my potions, then it will be me to gather the samples. You would honestly expect me to trust someone else with the task? I think not!”

By the look on old Dumbledore’s face, Severus might as well have just declared intention to build a Muggle atomic bomb. Albus’s eyes opened painfully behind his half-moon glasses, and his wrinkled hands gripped the length of his periwinkle robes. “Severus, forgive me, but are you out of your mind? You can’t go into the forest! It’s much too dangerous!”

“I have done it many times before, Albus, and nothing has happened,” said Severus, his dark brow already hitching into an arch. “The fact that I’m pregnant does not change that in my view.”

“It does in mine,” said Albus. “My boy, I don’t mean to impugn your abilities, but I think you are overestimating yourself in your condition. You might be as magically capable as you ever were, but your pregnancy has slowed you down.”

Severus had just about had enough of people treating him like he was made of glass, even after seven months without major incident. At the rate he worried, Albus could probably use a good lecture from Poppy. At least she was able to work with them. “I thought that was the reason for the charms that keep me trim and graceful out in the open hall,” he said, his tone was slightly warped by a bitter sarcasm.

“Yes, but even with those spells, you are still tired from your walk up here. Don’t look at me like that, Severus. I could see it when you walked in. My concern is that the chore itself will wear you out, going out there into a dangerous wood in the middle of the night when you should be resting. Severus, you are seven months pregnant. You are not the man you used to be. I don’t want you to go putting yourself in harm’s way when you are this close to the birth of your child.”

Frustrated and grinding his teeth together, Severus blew out a hard breath through his nose. “Then what do you want me to do? You agreed that I was the one who would be making the decisions around here when it was within my capacity. Would you go back on that promise, Headmaster?”

Albus did not flinch at the snide, insulting use of his proper title. Severus was a stubborn man, and never very agreeable, but no matter how many times he snapped and sneered, it still hurt to hear it, especially now since it hardly matched his plump, pregnant persona. But Albus did promise Severus that he would be in control of his own life leading up to the birth of his child, and unless there were stern warnings from Poppy, he wouldn’t go back on his word.

“Have you spoken to Poppy about this?” he asked, stroking his beard, already thinking.

“I wanted to hear what you had to say first,” said Severus. “I have found that Poppy is much easier to negotiate with.”

“Well, I don’t want you to go into that forest alone,” replied Albus. “If you insist that you must fetch your own ingredients, I want you to take someone else with you for your safety.”

“Well Albus, I would not have an issue with that if there was not a distinct problem with that.” Severus straightened back in his chair, his hand still gently rubbing over his abdomen. “Had it been any other time, I would have Remus accompany me into the forest. But the Fluxweed must be collected on the night of a full moon, which happens to be tomorrow night, if it’s missed you. Call me mad, but I have a feeling that Remus will be a little incapacitated.”

“Yes, quite right.” Albus turned his head downward and scratched his chin through white hair. There had to be another way, at least he hoped there was. He certainly didn’t want to upset Severus this far into his pregnancy, and he knew he would have to be careful in his suggestions. “Would you have a problem with a student going with you?”

“I suppose not,” Severus said with a short shake of his head. “I assume you are referring to one of our five troublemaking Seventh years.”

“I am indeed, and I already have a fine idea about which one.”

“No!” snapped Severus before the headmaster had a chance to continue. Albus however did not appear fazed in the slightest. After dealing with Severus and his fluctuating moods for not only months, but for years, he was already prepared for a reaction like that.

“Now Severus,” he said. “Harry is a very skilled young lad, and he has proven himself to be a fine defenseman. And need I remind you that if it hadn’t been for Harry, you would not be here right now.”

“That might be true, but if it also hadn’t been for Potter, there wouldn’t be five teenagers watching me for signs of labour. You expect me to trust that incompetent fool with my safety, and that of my child?”

“He might have made his share of blunders, but that does not distract from his defense abilities,” Albus needlessly explained. “Severus, this boy could one day be one of the greatest Aurors we’ve ever seen. Out of the five, he is the most qualified to aid you. I know you still don’t like him much, but come on Severus. If not for yourself, then do it for me. I would feel a lot safer if Harry was with you.”

Severus growled in his throat, realizing that he was quickly losing this argument. Whenever Potter and Dumbledore were involved in the same situation, it always ended the way they would have it. And Severus had to admit it to himself. If those five Seventh years were lined up against the wall, and any random person was asked to choose one to act as a guard, Boy-Wonder Potter would be chosen every single time. It was moments like this that Severus wished he had killed Potter when he had the chance, preferably right after the insufferable brat stumbled upon his delicate condition.

“Fine,” he finally grumbled. “I’ll take Potter, but only on one condition.”

“What is that?” asked Albus.

“If I’m bringing one student of your choosing, then I want to take two more of mine.”

“Two?”

“To counterbalance with Potter’s annoyance,” explained Severus. “You can’t expect me to go into the woods with that boy and keep myself sane. Remember, I agree to this only for you.”

“Very well,” Albus sighed. “Which two did you have in mind?”

“I would like to recruit Mister Malfoy and Miss Beckett, if you find that acceptable. Malfoy would be some additional protection, and Beckett is another set of hands to aid in the gathering. Of the three of them, she best understands the importance of herbal quality.”

“I have no problems with that at all,” said the headmaster as he rose from his chair. He offered a firm hand to help Severus up to his feet. “Now, I want you to go right back to the dungeons and get off your feet. I will go explain the situation to Poppy, and I will have Minerva call Potter, Beckett, and Malfoy up here after dinner.”

“Can you not let me do my own negotiating for once?” asked Severus as he recast his arsenal of glamour charms. “I might not be the same man physically, but I have not changed mentally.”

“Oh no, my dear boy,” said Albus, holding the door open for the younger wizard. “The last few weeks of pregnancy are a tricky business. We have been lucky thus far, and we wouldn’t want to jinx that now.”

“This is Hogwarts, Albus,” Severus said plainly. “Hardly anything goes as planned on these grounds.”

**~HP~**

The following night, long after most Hogwarts denizens had gone off to bed, Severus stood calmly at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The air was dank and chilled, as though a rain would fall with the next breath of wind. But there was not a cloud in the dark sky, and the moon illuminated the valley with its haunting glow. He listened to the sounds of the night, picking up the faint rustlings beyond the trees. He felt not one nip of anxiety, but his unborn baby shifted uncomfortably inside him. That however did not detour him. He sensed no danger that he hadn’t encountered before. And bugger on the headmaster! He was perfectly capable of defending himself. After all, it wasn’t his safety he was most preoccupied with. Perhaps it was good idea to cast those extra protective charms around the baby like Poppy suggested.

Behind him, he could hear a few unmistakable grumbles of discontent shuffle through the grass. In retrospect, it was a much better idea for Albus to talk the kids into this little field trip. Rose was easy enough to persuade, no worries about that. Even Draco and Harry were willing to do their part when Dumbledore told them of the importance of the mission. Both were ready to protect him in the forest, but that was before they found out that they would be doing it together. The response was almost pitiful, it was so overblown. So far, Severus had locked Draco from both his office and his quarters, and Rose swore she would start pulling her hair out if she heard one more word out of Harry.

“You’ll have to keep your eye on them,” Severus said to Rose, who was standing just at his side. The young witch was clad in her thick tweed coat, and her ebony wand was tucked into the belt of her jeans. “I have a feeling that they will be more trouble that they’re worth.”

“I’ll do what I can,” said Rose. “To be honest, I’m glad we’ll have them watching our backs.”

“Are you alright, Rose?” asked Severus, noticing the skittish sort of nature to his secret girlfriend’s demeanor that night. “You seem uneasy.”

“I’ve heard too many things about this forest to not be.” Rose’s eyes travelled up the tall trees, and her face irked at the pale full orb above. “I don’t know, Sev. Couldn’t we have just slapped a leash on Remus and taken him with us?”

“Ooh, sounds like Little Miss Beckett is scared,” Draco teasingly jeered as he stepped up to the couple.

“I’m not scared,” Rose quickly rebutted. “I would just feel more comfortable if we had a transformed werewolf with us. It’s not like he’s wild with that Wolfsbane Potion. I should know, I make the bloody stuff.”

“Settle down, Rose,” said Severus. “Remember that we have a job to do tonight, and I can’t afford to have any of you getting jumpy on me.”

“Not to worry, sir,” said Harry, who was for some reason kicking his feet into the dirt like he was preparing for a duel. “That’s what I’m here for. There’s nothing in there that can faze me anymore.”

“I do not dispute that, Potter, but do kindly keep comments like that to yourself. It’s enough that the headmaster continues to remind me of your heroism.”

“Severus, be nice,” whispered Rose, and it seemed that it was enough to get the Potions master to back off. Severus really only had his task in mind, mostly because he wanted to get both the Fluxweed and his lover back to his quarters as quickly as possible. And provoking Potter would just waste time.

Before anyone else could speak, there was another rustle of footsteps behind them, and they turned to see Dumbledore strolling up to them with Filch not far behind. The kids all instantly straightened their backs somewhat, and Severus cocked a brow at this mostly false display of obedience. The elderly wizard stopped a bare few feet in front of them, his face lit up by the light of Filch’s oil lantern. He then dismissed the crotchety caretaker, and once the yellow glow had disappeared back behind the castle walls, he brought forth his wand to produce his own light.

“Alright everyone,” he said quietly. “You have at least an hour to gather the Fluxweed, and the sooner we get this done, the better. Severus, are you quite ready?”

“Yes Headmaster, I’m ready,” said Severus. “Don’t get your wand in a knot, for Prospero’s sake.”

“Yes, yes,” muttered Dumbledore, who then turned to face the three young adults. “I greatly appreciate that the three of you agreed to do this. It makes me feel so much better knowing that Severus wasn’t going in there alone.”

“It’s no trouble, sir,” said Harry, apparently taking the leader’s role once again. “Anything we can do to help.”

“Yeah Potter, it’s not like we need the sleep,” Draco sneered, but Rose quickly got herself between the two boys with a deep pitched, “Hey…”

“Thank you, Miss Beckett,” said Dumbledore with a quick smile. “I know I made myself plain when I first spoke to you yesterday, but I want you three to understand the importance of this. I’m counting on you to keep Professor Snape and his child safe.”

“Sweet Merlin, I’m not carrying the heir to this nation’s throne!” Severus weakly exclaimed, trying his best to keep his voice low.

“Easy sir,” said Rose. The restrained pretense in her simple use of that title not only irked Severus, but also the two younger wizards on either side of her. “He just wants to be sure that we’ll do our jobs.”

“And we will,” Harry affirmed to the headmaster. “You can rest easy, Professor. We have things under control.”

“Excellent,” said Dumbledore. “Now, I am not ordering you, but I would prefer that you be back before the bell tolls one. I told Argus to wait by the courtyard door for you to return, and he will send me a message to let me know that you got back safely.”

“You know Albus, a man your age really shouldn’t fret this much,” Severus said as he shook his head, and Rose hid a giggle behind her fingertips. Dumbledore brushed off the comment with ease, and he bid the little group good night and good luck. He then turned and walked his way back up the hill. Severus waited until the little light of the old wizard’s wand diminished into the darkness. He then turned to the forest without a word, and he stepped forward into the dark wood. The three students stood unsure for almost half a minute, their respective thoughts jumbling around in their heads.

In all the hubbub going on between Severus and Dumbledore, none of them were entirely sure how they should really treat this nighttime adventure. For Rose, it was a just another night of potions and romance. To Harry, it was an important mission handed down from his superior, feeling as though his honor and dignity rested on his performance. And as for Draco, being stuck with Potter was practically worse than any detention assignment.

Severus abruptly stopped in the center of the path, and he looked around him to notice how nobody flanked him. “Come on, brats. Move it!” he called out, and he continued on his way. Rose rolled her eyes and dashed off after her man. Before they followed her example, Harry and Draco exchanged a cautious, foreboding look. They then trudged off into the woods with their wands firmly gripped in their hands.

**~HP~**

Moving like ancient spirits through the catacombs, the group of four walked in a solemn line through the darkness of the trees. The glow of their wands lit their way, the only source of light to be seen for miles, except of course for the moon. These woods were eerie to begin with, as anyone who had been at Hogwarts knew. But the pale gleam from above seemed to make a ghost out of the trees and the mist around them. The forest was unusually quiet that night, save for the rustlings of small animals through the leaves. Their footsteps, as quiet as they were, might as well have been tiny explosions going off. To the unwary, it would seem that they had no reason to fret. But all of them knew that an unseen threat was still a threat.

In spite of himself and his very loud objections, Severus started feeling Rose’s uneasiness shifting to him. It occurred to him that she would never be nervous without reason, and he suddenly realized how foolish his behavior in Albus’s office was. He swallowed hard as he concentrated on keeping his breath steady and silent, which incidentally was not as easy as it should have been. The baby was making him pay dearly for the increasing dose of adrenaline. Every time he was kicked in the ribs or had his intestines punched, Severus winched hard, once or twice hissing with the pain. But that was the only amount of distress he allowed himself to show. He didn’t want to give the kids any reason to worry, knowing that heightened emotions would only make an already tense situation worse.

Since it was determined that they would not be able to cooperate and work together without sniping at each other, Harry and Draco were spilt up rather quickly. Harry took it upon himself to lead their little troupe, jumping through the branches and roots with great ease, while Draco was content to keep up the rear. And just to be sure, Rose kept herself firmly between the two of them. The wand-lit glare the boys saw every time they looked at her alerted them to the fact that as badly as they wanted to childishly provoke each other, they had more important things to attend to.

Rose on her part was managing quite well, given the circumstances. Even if Harry was trudging about like it was no big deal, the Forbidden Forest was just as menacing and anxiety-inducing as she had imagined over the years. Her surroundings were almost the makings of her childhood horror stories, and if her friends were to be believed, every snapping twig could have been the signal of some terrible beast approaching. But even if she felt like jumping out of her skin every time a chipmunk scurried across the path, Rose tried to stay composed for Severus’s sake. He already appeared to be in discomfort, and she rushed to his side at each sharp intake of breath. It had to be so difficult to get beaten up from the inside, she thought to herself, and by such little feet. Dumbledore was right; the sooner she got this man to bed would be all the better.

**~HP~**

“Hold up,” Severus called as they stepped into a small clearing, stopping so abruptly that Rose almost ran into his back as she stumbled out of a thicket. Harry was already across the dirt patch and was about to disappear behind the trees when he heard the command.

“You want to stop here, sir?” he asked, fingering his lighted wand. “Is your back bothering you again, or do you want to keep going? We can go further if you like.”

“No, here is quite alright,” the Potions master replied. He flicked his wand forward, and walked further out of the dry, leafy glade.

“This is a strange place,” said Rose. “Are there many clearings in this forest?”

“There are when there is a profit to be had,” said Severus. “Right here is where the finest the best examples of Fluxweed have grown for nearly six centuries. Generations of Hogwarts Potions masters have utilized it in their brewing, thus cutting the cost of having herbs imported.”

“You just have to risk your skin to get it,” grumbled Draco. After a mile or so of tramping through the dirt and plants, he was not a very happy lad, and his tiredness was tensing him up. “Severus, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You are mental to come out here.”

“Silence Draco,” sneered Severus. “You are lucky that I even agreed to one of you coming with me, let alone three.”

“Suit yourself, but this place still gives me the creeps.”

A branch suddenly snapped behind the bushes, and all three of the kids flinched hard. Draco and Harry thrust their wands forward with wide eyes, and Rose yelped as she grabbed for Severus’s arm. Severus however was unmoved. The Potions master looked at his young companions and scoffed when he motioned to the rabbit that came bounding out of the bushes.

“You see why I wanted to do this alone?” he asked with a smirk. “The three of you are jumpier than a yearling unicorn. And to think that Dumbledore fancies you a great Auror, Potter.”

“Hey,” Harry ground through his teeth. “You don’t know the half of what I’ve seen in these woods. Shall we take a stroll over to the Acromantula colony?” In his right ear, Severus heard Rose whine in her throat, and her hold around his arm tightened.

They could have carried on with that same sort of banter, but Severus always had their time constraint gnawing away at the back of his mind. Seeing that the moon was high in the sky, the midnight hour ticking nearer, the elder wizard reorganized his students, and he allowed them to claim their duties. Harry was to continue onward into the woods, and Draco would go back the way they came, both keeping watch for anything lurking nearby. Their wands lax but at the ready, the boys set off into the darkness, leaving Severus alone with Rose in the glade. They knew that truthfully, they were not wanted there.

At the first strike of midnight, Severus set himself and his young lover to the task at hand. He would inspect the ground for suitable sprigs of Fluxweed, gathering what he could reach. But when he found that the weight of his concealed belly just wouldn’t let him get any lower to the earth than one knee, Rose would quickly swoop in to help. Nimbly and swiftly, she clipped through the stalk of the plant with her pocket knife and stowed it away without rumpling one leaf. She also showed no reluctance to crawl around in the dirt and under bushes, not minding for a moment that her nice coat was getting quite filthy. Severus looked down on her with swelling pride; she really was a fine potioneer, taking care of every little detail from a potion’s prep, to its brewing. He had taught her so well.

As Rose snipped away at the ripe greens, she often found her attention drawn to the pale glow of the moon. It was a peculiar spell that enchanted her every time she laid eyes on that full orb, a spell that no wizard could replicate, especially on nights like this. The wind blew the high branches just so that the clearing was filled with the low light, and the stars festooned the sky in a way that reminded Rose of every happy night she had lived to see.

“It’s beautiful,” she mumbled, half to herself. She turned to look up at Severus, who was coming up behind her with a relaxed expression. “If only every full moon could be like this one.”

“I’m sure Lupin would like to hear you say that,” said Severus. “I confess, of the numerous times I have been out here gathering herbs, I cannot remember a night quite like this.”

“You don’t say,” Rose smiled. In spite of her situation, she felt that romantic jitter inside, and she slowly rose to her feet. “And why is that?”

“Well,” Severus purred in his low, enticing voice. “Every other time, I was alone out here.”

“Oh, stop it. You liked it that way.” Rose stepped up to Severus and rested her hands on his shoulders.

“I did until now,” crooned Severus, and he slipped a finger under Rose’s chin to bring her lips closer. Initial contact swiftly became a slow snog, and Rose’s arms wound their way around Severus’s neck. Severus looked at Rose’s face, entranced by the star field reflected in her eyes. “It’s a shame that not many get to see you on nights like this. I might just have to fight off every wizard in Britain.”

“Stop it, Sev,” said Rose with a giggle. “Harry and Draco aren’t far away. Don’t you think we should –,”

“Ignore them, my love,” said Severus, shaking his head ever so slightly, black hair drifting over his eyes. “I didn’t bring you out here at this hour just to gather plants.”

“Oh, you devil,” Rose purred in her throat, nuzzling into the Potions master’s neck.

“Ah Rosie, you didn’t think I would be able to resist you, did you? The full moon does peculiar things to people, and not just people like Lupin.”

The stars flashed in Rose’s eyes, and she leaned up for another kiss. In the months that she and Severus had been together, she had never felt so free out in the open. The woods were fearsome, but the woods were secretive. In the eeriness lay a romanticism that could be easily found when sought. To Rose, filled with youth and idealism, this was a moment of fantasy, something that she only read about. And this fantasy was something Severus had long yearned for. In the silence of the forest night, their magic joined in an ancient dance.

A rustling in the branches caught Severus’s attention. He was too consumed in Rose to pull away, but he was still mindful of their surroundings. Breaking the kiss and nuzzling into soft red hair, a single ebony eye cracked open.

He almost didn’t see the flash of red light headed right for them.

Grabbing Rose’s arms in barely the nick of time, Severus threw himself and his girlfriend to the rough ground, both of them landing with a grunting cry. Just behind the spot where they previously stood, the bark of the nearest tree burst off in a great blast. Severus shook off the chunks of wood, and he forced himself up onto his knees, whipping his wand out of his robes.

“Who’s there?!” he shouted as Rose scrambled out of the dirt and up to her feet. She planted herself firmly in front of Severus, her face red with anger, and she screamed out, “Show yourself!”

“ _Stupify!_ ” an angry voice ground out, and a red bolt shot at them from another direction. This time however, Rose was ready for it. She turned on a dime, and she forcefully deflected the spell. Her breath was forced upward with the effort, and she panted hard as the adrenaline rushed through her limbs.

“Severus, get out of here!” she cried, turning erratically, looking for the attacker behind the blasts. But Severus grabbed the sleeve of her coat and growled, “Not without you! Go!” He pushed Rose through the brush, starting her in a fumbled, but hasty run. He then took off after her, running as fast as he could.

The couple didn’t get very far into the woods when another failed attack blasted a tree in a larger dirt clearing, and Severus and Rose were knocked down into the dirt. Severus tried to position his upper body on top of Rose, but the witch pushed him off ferociously. She leaped up in the path of an oncoming bolt of white.

“ _Protego!_ ” she yelled, and the spells flew all around. Rose’s quick reflexes gave Severus just enough time to stand, and as soon as he was upright, he pressed himself against a large tree. Instinctively, Rose backed up to shield him with her body, especially his vulnerable abdomen. Snarling like some kind of animal, she swung her wand hand around the edges of the clearing, waiting for another attack.

“Come out, you cowards!” she roared. “You’re no match for us!”

“Is that so, Poppet?” said a low, disgusting snarl. Severus stood behind Rose as a dark figure stepped out from behind the tree. The moonlight reflected off of the leather adorning his robes, gloves, and boots. Even in the darkness, he looked filthy from top to bottom, like he had spent weeks roaming the forest. Rose’s nose curled at his horrendous odor.

“Who are you?” she demanded, stepping forward, wand at the ready. “What do you want?”

“Rose, don’t,” Severus said, reaching out to pull her back.

“Yes dearie, mind your manners,” came another sinister voice, and a second wizard emerged from the trees. He chortled with a sneer. “Nice to see that you’re still looking out for the little ones, Severus.”

“You know these guys?” asked Rose, talking through clenched teeth.

“Oh, of course he knows us, dear,” the second wizard, the shorter of the two, replied menacingly. “We go way back, don’t we Snape? We were schoolmates, we were. And he’s looked after quite a number of our babes, he has.” He pulled down his muddied hood, revealing his face in the pale glare of the moon.

“Eugene Crabbe,” said Severus in a low voice, looking just beyond Rose’s head to where the other man stood. He too dropped his hood to reveal a mess of scraggly blond hair. “And Thorfinn Rowle.” Upon remembering where she had heard those names before, Rose shoved herself and Severus further back into the tree, this time reaching around his torso, to further block him.

“Merlin, they’re Death Eaters!” she cried, a bit redundantly for the current danger. “The ones that escaped!”

“Wonderful Child,” jeered Crabbe. “Aren’t you the clever one? Dumbledore has taught you so well. Hell, if I didn’t see that snogging, I would have taken you for a bodyguard, Rosie.”

Rose snarled loudly, and Severus grabbed her arms before she could charge forward. “You call me that again, and I’ll hex out your filthy innards!”

“Ooh, feisty!” barked Rowle. “I knew I could smell a Gryffindor a mile away, and a little bitch to boot!”

“Leave her out of this!” snarled Severus, pushing Rose out of his way. “What do you want with me?”

“You don’t know?” asked Crabbe. “I thought it would be obvious. We’ve come for our revenge.”

“What have I done to cross you? I only betrayed one man, and his body was burned a long time ago.”

“Betray one, you betray all.” Crabbe reached into his tattered robes and brought forth his wand, pointing it at Severus’s chest. “I lost my son.”

“I did not kill him,” Severus objected, but Crabbe just shoved his wand forward. “You might as well have! There might not have been a battle if you had not intervened. The Dark Lord would have taken the world, and these last eighteen years would not have happened had it not been for you. My boy’s blood is on your hands, and now you’re going to pay for it!”

“ _No!_ ” Rose shrieked, and she again jumped in front of Severus, ready for a fight.

“Oh look, she’s going to defend her lover!” a dark, scruffy-haired man with pointed facial hair said as he stepped out of the shadows. “A valiant one, isn’t she boys?”

“Lestrange,” Severus growled. Rose instantly whirled around and stared down at the last surviving member of the infamous family. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her wand with all the strength she had. Rabastan Lestrange looked more ragged than any street rat Rose had ever seen, dirty and disheveled after living on the run for nearly a year. But the pure malice that radiated from his dark, ominous eyes showed that he was as much the same man as he was the last time he entered these woods. And the way he smirked at Rose with a slit-eye glare sent shudders down her spine. Rose put herself between the mad wizard and her older lover.

“Step aside, little girl,” said Lestrange. “You wouldn’t want to get caught up in this nasty business.”

“No!” Rose barked. “If you want to get to Severus, you’ll have to go through me first.”

“Oh, this is too much!” laughed Rowle. “Snape being protected by his little whore! This will be easier than I thought!”

“You don’t know me,” warned Rose, swinging her wand over the three dark faces in front of her. “And you don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“I think they do.”

The fourth voice very nearly caught Rose off-guard. The familiarity of that specific tone made her stomach churn, but her stance did not falter. Not dropping her wand, she snapped her head to the left, readying herself for ambush. But when the tall dark figure stepped out from behind the trees, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Severus stuck his arm out in front of Rose’s chest protectively.

When they last saw him the month before, they had thought that would be the last time they would see Alistair Beckett. And if they ever heard of him again, it would be the way that he would want it to be; the Beckett family heir traipsing around with Wizarding aristocracy, flaunting his wealth for the common folk to envy. And for all his objections and denials, they thought he would never be seen with even slightly dodgy company ever again. But neither of them could have foreseen this. A wizard who denied his past crimes with the very men he was convicted of serving.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” asked Severus, his deep voice rumbling in his throat. He thrust his own dark wand out at Rose’s father, acting on behalf of the witch who stood frozen in the clearing.

Alistair stood stoically for a moment, his chest rising and falling with his breath. To Severus, there was something oddly different about him that night. Gone was the overstuffed, self-centered prat that degraded Rose in front of the entire Hogwarts population. Instead, he seemed strangely limp, like his tall form was just hanging there, and he stood with a certain fragility that made him seem half the pitiful wizard he was.

“I don’t know, Severus,” he replied in a slightly deflated tone. “I believe that is a question that I should be asking you.”

“Fuck off, Beckett! I know what these sods want with me, but what reason brings you here?”

Alistair shook his head, as though the Potions master were a raving idiot in a madhouse. “We all have a common past, and we all have a common goal. But what I am really interested in knowing is why you are out here with her.”

“That’s none of your concern,” said Severus. “How did you know I would be here?”

“I might not have excelled in Potions as a boy, but I do remember that Fluxweed must be harvested under a full moon for it to be any good. And if you are as neurotic as your reputation suggests, an Apothecary’s choice would never do. It was only a matter of time before you had to come out to these parts.”

“ _You!!_ ” Rose roared, charging forward suddenly and jabbing her wand into her father’s face. “You went through his stores when you were inspecting the castle! You were spying on him for these bastards!”

“They cannot prove that I was looking for anything in particular,” said Alistair. “But even so, very clever of you, Rose.”

“Don’t patronize me, you miserable git.” Rose ground her teeth together almost painfully as she positioned her wand tip at Alistair’s neck.

“Oh, so this is your daughter,” heckled Crabbe, suddenly reminding Rose and Severus of the three other men’s presence. “Hey Beckett, not too shabby for a half-blood. Now I kind of understand why you went after that Muggle broad.”

“My daughter’s mother is irrelevant,” said Alistair. He stiffened slightly at the loaded wooden weapon at his throat, but he straightened his back to look past the ebony wood into Rose’s eyes. “Explain yourself, young lady.”

“I don’t know why I should,” Rose seethed. “Why don’t you explain why you’re walking around the forest in the middle of the night with three fugitive Death Eaters?”

Alistair sighed, pressing his eyes shut. “I am not stupid, Rose. I know what it was I saw, what we all saw.”

“You didn’t see anything,” denied Rose. “You’re all mad!”

“Not likely.” Alistair suddenly got an arm up, and he shoved Rose to the ground without any effort, or a passing glance. She hit the dirt with a muffled yelp. Severus moved to rush to her, but was stopped when he found himself staring down the shaft of Alistair’s wand. Feeling the threat, the Potions master slowly backed up, his free hand moving toward his hidden baby bump. Alistair snidely cocked his head to the side. “Now, what the hell are you doing with my daughter?”

“Like you care, Beckett,” Severus spat at his lover’s father.

“Ah Severus, I think I have the right to know why my child is whoring herself out to her professor. Of course, not having any children yourself, I doubt you would understand the concern.”

Severus felt that shoot him right through the heart, and the baby squirmed inside him. “You have no concern for her,” he said. “How can you if you push her into the dirt without looking twice? You said it yourself when you came here to humiliate her.”

“You are right,” said Alistair with a short nod. “And I might not have cared if she were with someone else. To see her with you…you of all people.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Severus hissed, his black eyes narrowing. Alistair’s jaw clenched, his own glare hardening in intensity. And after a deep breath through his thin nostrils, he said, “I would have her lay with a Mudblood before a traitor.”

“Enough talk, Beckett!” Lestrange abruptly snapped. “I’ve waited a year for this day to come, and I won’t have you taking any more of my time. Deal with the brat later, let’s kill him!”

“It’s not our place to do that,” muttered Alistair, keeping Severus backed into that tree. Lestrange however growled like a rabid wolf. “I’m done taking orders! We came here to do a job, so let’s fucking do it!”

The three Death Eaters stormed forward, wands and fists pulsating with power. But before they could pass Alistair, there was a sudden, horrid noise of people being caught around the neck, and then grotesque thuds. Alistair and Lestrange looked back to see Crabbe and Rowle tied down to the trees with rope, struggling at the tight restraint. Rose scrambled up out of the dirt, and she interjected herself between her father and her lover. “Step aside, Rosella,” demanded Alistair, his tone unexpectedly becoming very cold and sinister. “This is between us and Snape.”

“No!” yelled Rose. “I won’t listen to you, and I never will. I meant what I said, Dad. If you want to kill Severus, then kill me first!”

“Gladly!” barked Lestrange, but Alistair stopped him before he could so much as jinx her.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he told the young witch. “As I said before, just because you fancy yourself a great witch does not make it true.”

“Just try me,” Rose challenged. Severus grabbed her coat sleeve from behind, hissing, “Rose, no!”

“Shut up, Severus. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life, and I’m not running away anymore.”

“So that’s what this is about,” mused Alistair. “Not a whore protecting her lover, but a failure defending her worth. You choose to duel to the death in a last effort to claim honor that you never had. Rose, I swear, you are as stupid as you are stubborn. There is no need for you to fight a battle that you know you will lose. No need to bring more shame on our name when you don’t have to.”

Rose’s face flushed a terrible shade, and to Severus’s shock and despair, sparks shot out from the tip of her wand. Though he could not see her face, he knew she was barely clinging to control. Though she fought to suppress it, Rose’s violent rage was brimming over, and Alistair was about to push her over the edge.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Father,” she finally muttered. “But this isn’t about you. I’ll stand up to anything for Severus…even if it’s you.”

“That’s it! Someone just get her out of the way!” Lestrange raised his wand, and Rose caught the movement at the corner of her eye.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

The Death Eater’s wand went flying. Almost instantly, Alistair turned on her and started firing off a series of silent hexes. Rose blocked them as best she could, moving faster than she ever thought possible. Not even when sparks singed her skin and clothes did she stop. The forest was soon lit up by the attacks of both father and daughter.

“Take cover!!” Rose shrieked at Severus. While his first instinct was to stand and fight like the man he knew he was, he had to protect his unborn child. Severus dashed out from behind Rose, and he made a break for a grouping of taller, denser trees. Once behind the relative safety of a thick trunk, he gasped for breath, clutching at his stomach.

Bloody murder, Rose screamed Harry’s name, her voice carrying on the wind. Even as she cried out for help, she did not break away from this duel. But as each spell flew past her face, the panic crushed her chest. Alistair was challenging enough, but it was almost overwhelming when Lestrange jumped into the fray. She wasn’t made for fighting like this, but Severus and the baby were in danger. What other choice did she have?

There was a sickening snap on the air, and Rose looked up. Somehow Lestrange had tossed a hasty Severing Charm in his trapped comrades’ direction, and he managed to slice through the ropes restraining Thorfinn Rowle. The massive bulk of wizard forced his way out of the ropes and moved toward her. Rose screamed, both in fear and exasperation, and adrenaline rushed to her heart, preparing her for either escape or impact. But just before he could take a swing at her, out of nowhere, Rose heard Severus yell out, “ _Stupify!_ ” Rowle was shoved back and crashed against the tree trunk. A sharp swish of a wand, and he was lashed back down. Rose looked just in time to see Severus duck back behind his tree. He had to show everyone that he wasn’t totally helpless.

“You can still surrender,” snarled Alistair. “Give up now, and you can go free.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Rose hissed. “You only brought this on yourself, Dad!”

Alistair bared his teeth and growled like a rabid dog. “Why must you force me into this?!”

“Let me finish this!” barked Lestrange. Alistair faltered in his attacks, and he stepped to the side to let the Death Eater come closer. “I’ll make short work of this.”

All of a sudden, there was a thunderous crash of footsteps, and Harry burst though the bushes into the clearing. He was visibly sweating, and he looked to be slightly out of breath, but as he came skidding to a halt, he stood taller than any soldier, and he brandished his wand without a touch of fear. In that moment, he was the hero Rose had grown up admiring, and the savior she had cried out to.

“What the hell happened?!” he yelped, backing up into Rose’s back, forming a sort of protective circle between them.

Rose took in a great breath, her wand hand trembling slightly. “I’ll explain later. Just make with the magic, Boy-wonder!”

Harry obviously didn’t need to be told twice. He looked right at Lestrange and stared him down with flaring green eyes. It seemed that this was a match he had been waiting for. Even Alistair stopped and turned his attention to the boy hero. Rose took advantage of the situation by moving closer to where Severus was hiding. The standoff lasted all of two minutes before Lestrange fired the first hasty curse, and Harry threw himself into the voracious duel.

For several long moments, the forest glowed with the light of a thousand spells. Harry and Lestrange locked in a fierce fight that never ceased for even a second, while the estranged father and daughter focused on blocking each other’s shots. Several attempts were made at stunning in all directions, nearly all swiftly blocked. And even though many nasty spells flew in Severus’s direction, the Potions master always skillfully blocked each of them before ducking back behind trees and rocks. Rose felt his movements, so badly wanting to be by his side, and knowing how much he wanted to be by hers. But seeing the sneer on Lestrange’s face and feeling the angry power coming from Alistair drove her need to protect her lover and the child he carried. With every spell she cast, Rose felt her power increasing in strength and in rage.

Harry thrust his wand out with a loud incantation, and suddenly Lestrange stopped moving. Face frozen in his rage, the filthy wizard collapsed back like a stone statue. Harry then turned to help Rose. However, the aid was unneeded because Rose finally managed to shoot Alistair’s wand from his grasp, and with a hard swipe upward, he tumbled over onto his back. Rose pinned her father down on the ground with a foot on his chest, and she positioned the tip of her wand at his chin.

“Well done, Rose,” said Harry, out of breath and panting. “Quickly, petrify him so we can get Snape out of here.”

Rose neither looked up nor moved her hand. Standing above her miserable father, she seethed in her incredible fury, and her eyes burned, but she did not shed a tear. “I want to have this, Harry,” she said. “I want this bastard to know what it’s like to really be under someone else’s foot.”

“You pathetic sod,” grimaced Alistair. “You just can’t finish the job.”

“That won’t work anymore,” replied Rose, and she pressed her foot down harder. Alistair winced as he bared his teeth under the force. “Those days of cowering like a little girl are over. And believe me, if I hadn’t given up on you weeks ago, I could do far worse to you. But I just don’t have any more time to waste on you.”

It was then that Severus stepped back out into the clearing. Already feeling defeated an almost complete inability to defend himself, he wasn’t sure what to make of the sight in front of him. He wanted to be proud of Rose in her victory over Alistair, that she had finally been able to overcome him in the best way possible. But he knew deep down that it was a hollow victory at best. He didn’t need to see Rose’s face to know that was happening inside her head, and her raw emotions were betrayed by the trembling of her wand hand. As far as he was concerned, Severus wanted Rose to get out of the forest as soon as she could. Not because of the still imminent danger surrounding them in the form of variably incapacitated Death Eaters, but because he did not want her to put herself through the pain of actually finishing that job.

He knew Rose could do it, but it was beyond her to inflict that kind of harm on anyone, no matter how much they deserved it.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” said Harry. He pointed to the two struggling wizards against the trees, and then down the dark forest path. He and Rose had to get Severus back to the safety of the Hogwarts, and if they wanted a chance of outrunning these slick gits, they would have to get a good head start.

“Rose,” Severus said carefully, reaching out to touch her arm. “Come on, leave him. Potter will take care of him.”

“If you touch her, you slimy bastard –,” Alistair tried to say, but was cut off by Rose’s foot on his sternum. His eyes crossed as he looked down the dark shaft of Rose’s wand. The riled witch laughed, albeit weakly, but just enough to coax a sneer out of her.

“You have no more right to command him than you do with me. You probably just want to stop us from embarrassing you again. Severus was right about you being a pitiful fighter. Imagine the looks on the inmates’ faces when you get back to prison and explain that you were beaten by a useless half-blood.”

“Rose, look out –!”

Rose barely had enough time to look up before the curse came zooming past her head and exploded in midair, knocking both her and Severus to the ground. Her guard completely down, she cried out, and she crawled over to where Severus lay conscious. Rose managed to get herself over his upper body, acting as a living shield for the Potions master. Severus returned the favor by wrapping his arm around Rose’s shoulder, holding her as close as he could without straggling her. Swallowing his own fears, he then turned his attention to what was happening behind them while Rose breathed into his chest.

Harry took the new aggressor head-on, shooting a series of tricky hexes to throw his opponent off. But all of these spells were either blocked or missed all together, and the Head Boy focused his attention into protecting himself. He kept it going for as long as it could, but it wasn’t too long before the Boy-who-lived was overcome. Rose yelped as she heard the sound of Harry crashing back into a tree with enough force possibly topple it over, fearing it might have killed him, and only when she heard his pained groan did she relax. She looked down at Severus, hoping to see the same relief that Harry was still alive. But the color drained from her face when she beheld the wide-eyed, stricken expression that was etched into Severus’s face like stone. Not knowing what was going on, Rose moved to stroke her older lover’s pale cheek.

Her body and her breath froze when she felt the tip of a wand at the back of her head.

“Well, well, well…what have we here?”

The voice was as sly as it was seedy, and Rose felt a terrible shudder run up her spine. She had heard some menacing tones in her day, but something about this man’s voice was strangely unique. It had pretentious flair, and it had brooding danger. In fact, if she had not known better, Rose might have thought that she was being threatened by the soulless body of Voldemort himself. She dreaded turning around, but if this man meant to do harm, she at least had the right to see his face. Closing her eyes apologetically at Severus, Rose slowly craned her neck around to look up behind her. Her heart turned to ice when she saw that she was face to wand with Lucius Malfoy.

“You…” Rose gasped, now clinging to Severus tighter than ever. Pressure again started to build up in her chest, and her blue eyes flared with rage.

“Oh, is it really so surprising?” asked Lucius, terribly sarcastic. The steely Death Eater looked as put together as ever he was, his pristine robes adorned with the same leather as his cohorts. His silver-blonde hair was sleekly pulled back from his harsh pale face. The most notable feature about the elder Malfoy however was his demeanor. To shock and surprise, despite the late hour, he was as sober as a judge. “I do believe that any good Gryffindor would have expected this, Miss Beckett. Your daughter is not quite what I expected, Alistair.” In the middle of the clearing, Alistair slowly got back on his feet, not saying a word as he stepped back away from them.

Severus didn’t hear anything that was said, and he couldn’t really see anyone else around. He almost didn’t even feel the weight of Rose’s body on top of his. The only thing that rushed through his mind with barely a second to ponder was the dark wizard standing over him.

He had returned…

Overwhelmed by incredible panic, Severus went rigid, the fear sitting in his stomach like a stone. The vast forest became a small black hole, and the silence became denser than rock. Staring up into those horrid gray eyes, Severus was under attack. It was those eyes that watched him in Knockturn Alley, those hands that beat his body into brick and stone, and that wand that tortured his mangled form. He had yet to be touched, but Severus felt that cold, filthy grip on him. And the pain…oh the lasting phantom pain of that long ago night! Severus heard every angry grunt, felt every agonizing thrust, every throbbing spasm that created his child all those months ago.

Lucius had taken his honor and his dignity in one perverted, violent act. He forced his maddened revenge on him in a way worse than death. And now he was back to finish what he had started.

The fear exploded in his chest, and Severus dug his nails into the rough earth. He scrambled across the ground, crawling backwards in a pitiful attempt to escape. Part of that was the fact that Rose still clung to his outer robes, and she drug along the dirt and grass terrain. Severus ended up grabbing the collar of her coat, tugging her with him, but it was a faint protective instinct at best. He had to get away from Lucius, and he had to get away now!

“Not so fast, Severus,” Lucius sneered in a way so vile, it was almost polite. With every inch Severus moved, he took a step closer, his wand still poised to strike Rose’s head, backing them into a corner. “No need to strangle the poor dear. And besides, you know cannot possibly get away from me if you tried.”

“Get away from me, Malfoy!” Severus’s voice cracked with the heightened tension, not helping his defenses one bit. He crawled faster, but stopped when he felt a hard blow to his back and shoulders. He had hit a tree, and Lucius was too close, and Rose too heavy on him for Severus to divert direction. He tried as he may to press himself into the bark as much as he could, looking for any dip in the trunk, any crevice.

“Oh, why so frightened?” asked the blonde Death Eater. “I’m just a humble old mate.”

“Bollocks, you’re here to kill him!” Rose snapped loudly and violently. “You brought all these men out here to avenge your precious master!”

“Oh yes,” Lucius sighed. “Nothing escapes the noble house of Gryffindor. Come to think of it, that may well be the reason you and Potter are here to begin with. Of course, it is not as though that would be a problem for us, wouldn’t you say, Potter?” At the far side of the glade, Harry let out a low groan as his world slowly came back into focus.

Rose pushed herself onto her knees, and she flung her wand out at the imposing Death Eater as she crouched over Severus’s torso. “You want Severus, then take me first!” she bit out. “I beat these guys, I can take you, you drunken bastard!” Lucius cocked his brow at her, and his tipped his head slightly to the side. But after a while, he shook that tipped head with a low sigh.

“I don’t have time for this childish impudence.”

There was a harsh swipe of wood on the wind, and Rose was suddenly thrown off of Severus by an invisible force. She flew a short distance before crashing into a tall elm. Harry cried out Rose’s name, and he swiftly, though shakily crawled over to help her to her knees. Severus tried to move to her side, but he was pinned into the tree by Lucius’s wand in his face. Lucius himself was looking upon the two young adults with a vicious little smirk, like he was watching two mice being stalked by a cat. And standing to the side without a word, Alistair just watched with hardly an expression.

“Beckett,” Lucius abruptly said in a commanding tone. “Free the others and restrain the little pests before they cause any more trouble.”

Rose and Harry didn’t stand a chance because Alistair moved faster than they could think. In a pair of quick swipes of his wand, Crabbe and Rowle were released from their ropes, and Lestrange gained control of his newly unfrozen body. The Gryffindors looked for their wands, both lying discarded in the dirt, and they made a mad dash for them. But before they could even get close, Harry was caught around the legs by a hex from Crabbe, and he was dragged back to the stocky dark wizard. Crabbe grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him up into a standing position, holding him there. Rose was about to come to his aid when suddenly, Lestrange came up behind and grabbed ahold of her. Clasping the length of her red hair, he yanked Rose’s head back painfully to look to the moonlit sky, and he held his wand to her neck, ready to strike should she move one muscle. Their job done, Alistair nodded silently to Lucius, who in turn looked back down at the recoiling Potions master.

“Get up, Snape,” he said. Severus didn’t move at all, except for the slow turn of his head from the other wizard. Lucius growled in his throat, not fond of his orders going unanswered. “You pathetic sod, you listen to me when I speak to you. I said get up!”

Severus lurched, yelping in pain, and every muscle fought against the spell that was forcing him to his feet. It had been so long since he had been dealt the Imperius Curse that he couldn’t resist it. Harry recognized what was happening, and he fought against the strong arms – two sets now – that were holding him still. And Rose cried out through clenched teeth, all she was able to do.

“That’s better,” Lucius commented once Severus was up and leaning against the tree. The Potions master let his face fall to the ground, refusing to look the Death Eater in his gray eye. Lucius clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “It’s a shame really. A wizard once reputed to be great and powerful reduced to a pitiful fraidy-cat who needs to be protected by children. What has become of you, Severus?”

“I haven’t fallen as far as you have,” said Severus. “I thought at this hour, you would be wasting away in a pub somewhere.”

Lucius tipped his head back slightly and laughed through closed lips, his wickedness not suppressed by the muffled quiet. “Oh Severus, how flattering! It warms my heart to hear someone commend my acting abilities. If a man like you bought into that rubbish, I must be better than I thought. It’s rather interesting, actually. When I needed to find a place and time to meet with my associates to discuss our plans, especially our plans for this very evening, it needed to be in a place that no one would expect. And now I see that I made a pretty good gamble. Honestly, a man of my stature, a drunk? Don’t make me laugh!”

The shock of the realization felt like being shot. Severus pressed harder into the tree, gripping at the rough bark, trying to breathe past the knot in his chest and throat. Across the way, the same realization was starting to sink in for Rose and Harry. Harry struggled in his captors’ grasp, fighting like a wild animal in chains, and Rose lunged forward, only to be pulled back by another hard tug on her hair from Lestrange. Lucius briefly looked back at his two younger prisoners and smirked maliciously.

“Hmm, seems you weren’t the only one to believe my little act.”

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” snapped Severus, his face turning white in alarm. “You take your cronies and get out of here before I make you regret the decision to step on these grounds.”

Again, Lucius sighed, shaking his head as he said, “As clever as you are, Severus, you are very foolish.” He stalked closer to the Potions master, his steps barely making a sound. “You see, I have no intention of leaving, not until I get what I came here for.”

“You have no business with me,” Severus tried to respond. “If you think I have wronged you, you are out of your mind.”

“Is that so?” asked Lucius. “Given what I have seen from you in the last year, I would have said the same about you.”

“I wasn’t the one masquerading as an alcoholic for the last nine months.”

“Ah, but everything has its reason, my friend.”

Suddenly, a ragged scream rang through the air. Lucius turned with a start, but Severus remained still. The remaining Death Eaters looked just in time to see Lestrange topple over onto the ground, grasping his upper leg. Alistair turned his wand to see what had happened, and he paled slightly at the sight. Blood was spurting out of Lestrange’s thigh, seeping through his trousers and soaking his hand. Free of her restraints, Rose stepped away from the grunting, wounded wizard, holding her now bloody pocket knife in her hand.

Rose grabbed her wand out of the grass, and she made a mad dash for Severus, easily putting herself between him and Lucius’s wand. “You monster!” she shouted. “You lay one finger on him, and I’ll make you wish you had never been born.” Her hands twitched, signaling an attack. But to the surprise of many, her wand went down, and the knife came up. Behind Lucius, Alistair’s wand also fell, his face etched harshly with disgust.

“What is this?” he hissed. “You put down your wand in a fight? Has that mental bitch trained you to defend yourself without magic? You’re becoming more and more like them with each passing day!”

“It just goes to show you that the Muggle-raised are just as shameful as the Muggle-born,” said Lucius. He looked Rose right in the eye with not even a touch of distress. “They are also just as hopeless.”

“Don’t you dare underestimate me,” Rose ground out. “What my father has told you is a crock of shit! I am more an opponent to you than Crabbe or Rowle there.”

“Rose, stop this,” Severus muttered. “You don’t know what you are up against.”

“You should listen to your Potions master, dear,” Lucius sneered quietly. “I’m sure he has your best interests at heart, although I believe mostly that he doesn’t want any harm to come to his shag-toy.”

“You watch your mouth,” Rose snarled, but Lucius kept encroaching on her and the man she guarded. “I often imagined Alistair Beckett’s daughter to be many things, but a whore never once crossed my mind. Very risky of you, Severus, taking up with a randy student. But then again, you never were able to get your priorities straight.”

Rose let out a high shout and charged at the blonde wizard, but Lucius quickly whipped his wand at her. The Gryffindor suddenly stopped, and a short gasp escaped as she fell to her knees. Harry called out to her, but Rose couldn’t answer. Lucius stood emotionless over her, and he flourished his wand a second time. Severus watched in horror as Rose’s body floated up into midair, her arms and legs limp as she hung there, her hips suspended by some invisible rope.

Lucius could not have been crueler; suspending Rose the same way Voldemort had done to Charity Burbage in the last hours of her life. Severus swallowed hard at the sight, feeling the anxious heat washing over him. Inside, the baby kicked him hard, but Severus could not react as Lucius turned back to him.

“You only brought this upon yourself,” the Death Eater told him. “Once again, someone else has to suffer because of your mistakes.”

“What do you know of my mistakes?” moaned Severus, trying desperately to hold back the tears as Rose slowly spun around to him, showing him her desperate face. “It is not my fault alone that the war ended the way that it did. I did not defeat the Dark Lord and destroy his regime. And even if I had, even you would have been grateful after the way he treated you and your family.”

“You just do not understand, Severus,” said Lucius, now beginning to pace slowly between Severus and Rose’s floating form. “Yes, it was displeasing for us in those last few months, but it was not the Dark Lord’s respect that I truly wanted. What I wanted was the world he promised us. From the day I was born, I was told that one day, the pure of our kind would rise up and take their rightful place as rulers of the Wizarding world. We finally had our chance to get that, Severus. We would have been living gods amongst lowly mortals. People like these two worthless children would have been our slaves. And the Dark Lord couldn’t have done it all himself, could he? That could have been _our_ world, Severus! But you…if I had known then that you had double-crossed us, I would have taken just as much pleasure in your unrelenting suffering as I do now.”

“You wouldn’t have lasted under the Dark Lord,” hissed Severus. “All of us were expendable, even you! He would have done away with you if you took one step out of line. He would have killed your family!”

“At least I didn’t run away with my tail tucked between my legs,” said Lucius. “The only thing that sickens me more is to think of why you abandoned our ranks in the first place.” He looked at Rose, pausing beside her head. He reached up slowly, and he stroked a finger down her pale neck, making Rose cringe. He tittered to see the appalled look on Severus’s face.

“I never imagined that you would give up endless power for a girl, especially for useless trash like Lily Potter. Why don’t you just admit it, Severus? You couldn’t have saved her if you had tried. She would have met her doom at the hands of the Dark Lord sometime, just like the rest of those sods in that battle. And even if she had lived, she never would have loved you in return. It was a valiant effort, but it was a failure. Nothing good ever comes out of love, Severus. I’m surprised you haven’t learned that already. It would have done you some good before taking up with this broad. What has become of you? What happened to the boy who once told me that Slytherin women were the only women worth noticing? What happened to the boy who called out Muggle-borns for what they are? What does it take for you to realize that girls like this one are just no good?”

“She can do everything you can and more!” Severus choked out, and Lucius just sniggered.

“You know, I might have believed that if Alistair had given me reason to be wary of his daughter. But he has never seen anything more than a mediocre performance from her. Isn’t that right, Alistair?”

“Yes,” mumbled the elder Beckett, his eyes following Rose’s floating body. He didn’t seem to be paying a great deal of attention to his motley gang’s leader, but Lucius didn’t appear to mind.

“You see my point then,” he said to Severus. “In light of this past year’s revelations, I have now come to realize that you were never on our side. We could have been something great, Snape. You could have been something great. And yet you chose to throw all of that away. What more, you threw it away for something as worthless as a silly, sobbing schoolgirl.” Lucius flicked his wand to his right, and Rose fell heavily to the ground, her body crumbling under her weight.

Severus clenched his teeth as he cried out to her. Lucius quickly rushed in to block his way, his wand out in front of him. And just behind him, Alistair stepped out to stand over his daughter with his own wand aimed at her back. Severus looked up at Lucius; the malicious sarcasm had suddenly gone from his face, replaced by the most horrid, stone-like anger Severus had yet to see. Overwhelmed with fear and overactive emotions, he fought to hold back the tears of desperation as he watched Rose struggle to get up.

“Lucius, please,” he pleaded. “Let them go. Potter and Beckett have done nothing to wrong you. If you have any amount of decency left in you, you will show them mercy.”

“You say them, but you really mean her,” said Lucius. His mates laughed maliciously, and he sighed. “It’s such a pity, Severus. You had it coming to you anyway, and now you lay down your life for love. Honestly, don’t you ever learn? It wasn’t worth it twenty years ago, and it is not worth it now. No, I do not intend to release Potter and your little Beckett slut. I came here to get revenge for my fallen world. It was just my luck to have a couple of unwilling witnesses.”

“You touch him, and I’ll kill you!”

The wizards turned to face Rose as she slowly and painfully lifted herself off the ground. Once she had a good footing, she tightly gripped the handle of her wand, and she pointed at the imposing Malfoy head. Lucius, a bit taken by the sight, stared for a moment before letting out a raucous laugh.

“You…you would kill me?” he said, arching a pale eyebrow. “I think you misjudge yourself, Miss Beckett. From what I hear, you have never successfully claimed a life. Too weak to finish the job, aren’t you, dear?”

“She has never had reason, Malfoy!” roared Severus, jerking forward slightly in his anger. “Unlike some, she has a conscience! If there’s anyone who is too weak to kill, it’s her father!”

“Agreed,” Rose growled viciously. “And who said it was weakness stopping me? I prefer to think of it as waiting for the most deserving little bastard to come along.”

“You tell ‘em, Rose!” shouted Harry, which caused Alistair to let out a harsh snarl, and he said, “Rosella Beckett, you stop this at once!”

“Or what? You’ll put me in time out? If that’s the way you want to go, then Malfoy here should follow your lead. Draco’s somewhere in these woods, you know. And I’m sure he would appreciate a demonstration of your ultimate power.”

“You insolent bitch!” Lucius yelled. He lunged toward her, and fire exploded from the tip of his wand. The forest glowed and Severus’s eyes flared. But Rose was quick; she magically took hold of the flames and manipulated them away from her. Sweat glistened off her forehead under the heat. Lucius put more power into the spell, and the flames collected in a ring around Rose. At last, the pressure became too much, and Rose let out a shout as she forced out her hands. The ring of fire blew out in all directions, catching the first foliage it touched.

“ _Severus, run!_ ” shrieked Rose, whirling around to stun Crabbe, thus freeing Harry enough to summon his wand to his hand. He quickly blasted his way out of Rowle’s strong grip, and a fierce duel ensued. Severus almost didn’t move, but the powerful instinct to protect the baby convinced him otherwise, especially when he caught a glimpse of the fire in Lucius’s eyes as he and Alistair ganged up on Rose. The witch screamed again for him to run, and Severus took off away from the fight.

Dodging the burning shrubs with a hasty defensive spell, Severus rushed back to the Fluxweed patch where they had been ambushed. But it was there that his tired, wound-up body finally gave out on him, and he collapsed against a tree to catch his breath. Over yonder, he could hear the whistling of spells on the air, and the horrendous blasts as they hit their targets. What more, he could hear the shouts and cries of those casting them. He couldn’t look toward the lights, not when he could hear the high screams that separated Rose from the men around her.

Severus just hated himself. He knew he had a child to protect; even amongst this madness, the baby still reminded him of its presence with very sporadic strokes inside him. But he just could not make his escape if it meant leaving Rose behind. She only fought to protect him, but he couldn’t let her fight to the death. Severus didn’t want anyone to die for him, but he would never live with himself if he cost Rose her life, and at the hands of Lucius or even her own father. He just could not allow one more person he loved to be stolen away.

Rapidly, Severus wracked his brain for a solution to this. He couldn’t fight in his condition, but he had to do something! Would he be able to make it back to the castle in time? Or should he rush and find Draco? Could he even step outside these woods without those three kids? Would he be called a coward for abandoning them, or would pregnancy make him the helpless victim once again? But that didn’t matter right now. No matter what happened, Severus thought as he stepped out to start moving again, he just couldn’t sit idle. If anyone was going to take down Lucius, it was him.

He looked for the light at the forest’s edge, and Severus bolted.

_*Bam*_

Severus just managed to turn on his side as his feet were ripped out from underneath him. His hand flying to shield his abdomen, he landed hard in the dirt, unable to move his legs. Instant panic set in; images of Knockturn Alley hit like a bolt of lightning, the same pain of impact shooting through him. Severus dug his nails into the ground, but it was useless. He never would have the strength to stop his body from being dragged backwards.

“Did you actually think you could get away from me?” asked Lucius, attracting the Potions master’s horrified gaze. He stood over Severus like a great statue, digging the heels of his boots into the soil. “Haven’t you learned by now that running never works? Although, what is a coward to do when he cannot stand and fight.”

“Fuck off!” croaked Severus, throat closing in. “What have you done with Rose?!”

“Oh, I thought I would let Daddy put her in her place. My business is with you.” Lucius thrust his arm out, and Severus flew back into a tree trunk, crashing with a shout. The ailing wizard nearly shed a tear at the pain shooting through his back, making him grip his stomach harder.

“Lucius…please,” he pleaded, his voice constricted pathetically. Beads of sweat dripped down the sides of his face, unaided by the fire’s heat. “You’ve gone mad. You don’t need to do this.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Lucius hissed, stalking closer to Severus. “You ruined my life, Snape. I might have had to go through hell to get the power I wanted, but I was still so close to getting it. Now, I have nothing. My reputation is shattered, and my family has gone their separate ways. I don’t even have the loyalty of my own son! From what I hear, he prefers to be around you these days. I cannot – _will not_ – let you go when we all know you deserve to be punished.” He crouched down, barely a foot away from Severus, gray eyes meeting black. And to Severus’s horror, Lucius raised a hand to stroke long fingers down his pale cheek, creeping along his jawline and behind his ear. “You deserve it just as much now as you did back in Knockturn Alley. However, I realize that I was just too soft on you last time. Nasty though that was, it should be a life for a life. You were a traitor then, you are still a traitor now, and you always will be.”

Lucius gripped his fist together and slammed it into Severus’s face. The Potions master toppled over with a cry.

By some miracle, that was when Rose burst through the flaming bushes, her wand hand flailing about. Alistair was hot on her tail, even if he did pause to make sure he hadn’t caught on fire. He didn’t even bother to continue his duel, instead leaping forward and tackling his daughter. He gripped Rose’s arms tightly as they stood up together.

“What should I do?” he grunted at Lucius, struggling under Rose’s surprising strength.

“Hold on to her for now,” said Lucius. “Your daughter is still young and learning. She deserves to see what happens when you go back on your oaths. I hope you enjoy this one, Alistair. This is for befouling your baby.” He pointed his wand at Severus.

“Don’t hurt him!” screamed Rose. She ripped herself from Alistair’s hands and rushed forward. On the ground, Severus saw Lucius’s face flush a nasty red, his features contort, and turn violently to Rose.

“ _Crucio!_ ”

Severus watched in horror as Rose fell to the ground, writhing and screaming. Her agonizing cries could have broken down even the best Silencing Charms, and they echoed up to the sky. Rose thrashed around, desperately seeking relief from the pain that crushed her bones and tore her muscles. But she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless creature, unable to escape man’s cruelty. Tears streamed down her face like an endless river, reflecting pale in the weak evening light.

Malfoy released his hold on Rose after only a few, very long seconds. Instantly, Rose collapsed down onto the ground, and her cries became racking sobs. Severus tried to crawl on one arm to get to her, but before he could reach Rose, Lucius stepped in the middle of his path. But shockingly, instead of continuing with his threats, he kept looking down at Rose.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he said, a sneer creeping back into his pale face. “You poor baby, I regret that you had to learn this way what happens to traitors and Muggle lovers, from what your father has told me. I thought I told you to take care of her, Beckett.”

“Forgive me, Lucius, but I underestimated her speed,” said Alistair, his eyes also glued to Rose’s struggling form.

“That does seem to be a habit of yours,” Lucius commented with a roll of his eyes. “Of course, this likely would have happened to her anyway. We all receive the punishments we deserve, and a filthy half-blood is no different.”

Rose pulled her head up, and she looked up at the elder Beckett with blue eyes that burned with incredible rage, despite the tears that poured from them. “What does it take, Malfoy?” she croaked in an attempt to growl. “What in God’s name does someone have to do to get you to stop?! Severus didn’t ruin your life, Voldemort did! After all that he did to you and your family, after the Ministry let you go, why must you continue this madness?!”

“The Ministry is an assembly of bloody fools who have no concept of what is right,” said Lucius. “And what must be said to convince you of the obvious? If not for Severus’s betrayal all those years ago, the Dark Lord’s conquest would have gone as planned, and my family would not have been affected. Think about it for a moment, my dear, if you can. If your lover here hadn’t turned his back on us, you might not have lived to see the glory of a Wizarding world that was pure. You and the mongrel that bore you would have been extinguished.”

“Fuck you!” Rose wailed, and she turned painfully to Alistair. “Say something, you thick bastard!”

“I can’t, Rose,” replied Alistair, lowering his head. “This is out of my hands.”

“Indeed it is,” said Lucius. “Now Alistair, do as you’re told and restrain your daughter while I tend to the deserter. If you can, make sure the little slut can see every last blow her precious Potions master receives.”

All of a sudden, in an act of remarkable strength, Rose pushed up her hurting body, and she threw herself at Lucius’s back, making him stumble a short ways. But he did not fall, and he thrust back his broad shoulder to hurl Rose back down to the ground. He whirled around with an aggressive growl.

“You shut up, and stay back, bitch!” he shouted. “ _Crucio!_ ”

Rose collapsed back down onto the ground, screaming to shake the trees down to their roots. As her body violently convulsed, she lifted her head up to Severus, and she reached out her hand, crying out for him to save her. Lucius, apparently taking a sick pleasure in the young Gryffindor’s suffering, stalked closer to where Rose lay, gripping his wand as though to break it.

“ _STOP!!_ ” Severus screamed. Distracted, Lucius released the curse, leaving Rose gripping the dirt, trying to swallow the sobs. He coolly glanced back at Severus; he was unmoved by the contorted face and the hot tears that flowed freely. “Stop this, Malfoy! She never did anything to deserve this!”

“Oh, I’m sure that Beckett could come up with a few good reasons. His family name, after all, is forever tarnished by her existence.”

Severus looked at Alistair, whose face suddenly held an expression of reluctant surrender. “How could you, Beckett?! She’s your only child! How could you stand back and let this happen?!”

Multiple wands turned on him as Lucius grunted, “Alistair wishes that she wasn’t his. He told me so himself. She’s nothing more to him than a ball and chain, a curse thrown on him by one stupid mistake. I’m just doing what he didn’t have the guts to do a long time ago. And you can’t do anything about it. Mark my words, the last thing you will see is your little whore suffering –,”

“ _Reducto!_ ”

The blast sent Lucius flying back, crashing into a tree with a sickening crack. Severus cried out, but he fell silent when he saw Rose on her hands and knees, her wand trembling in her grasp. The couple both shot a weak glare at Alistair, who simply stood speechless in the Fluxweed patch. Rose let her wand fall limply to her side, and she turned to Severus with a sigh. Severus went to touch her, but his eyes shot open in rapid panic.

“Don’t turn your back on –!”

“ _CRUCIO!_ ”

Rose was only a finger’s touch away when she crumpled again under the Unforgivable Curse. This time however, she writhed in near silence, no longer possessing the strength or the voice to cry out. Lucius stumbled back over to her, and he reached down to grab Rose, lifting her up by her arms as though she weighed no more than parchment.

“You insufferable half-blood,” he hissed, his face and knuckles turning white. “I have had enough of your attempts at heroism. If only your father had set you straight when you were a child, taught you to see as we do. At least then, your days would have ended more pleasantly.”

“I’ll still end my life with more honor than you ever will have,” Rose whispered. Lucius’s eyes flared with the surrounding fire, and he roared loudly.

“That’s it!” He threw Rose forward, onto her knees. He fingered his wand, and he glanced over at Alistair, who was looking like he wanted to Disapparate out of there. “She’s gotten on my last nerve, Alistair. This has to end now.”

“I’m sorry, Lucius,” mumbled Alistair, avoiding the eyes of everyone. Lucius casually strolled over, and he held out the handle of his wand to the elder Beckett. “She’s your child, mate. You do the honors.”

“Lucius…”

“Kill her,” commanded the slightly older wizard. “She’s standing between us and our ultimate revenge. You do away with her like you should have a long time ago.” He then stepped back, and he folded his arms across this chest.

“No!” cried Severus. “Please, I beg you, let her go! Do what you want to me, but leave her!” He once again attempted to crawl toward Rose’s hunched form, but a sharp glare from steely gray eyes locked him up.

The fire in the bushes abruptly burst forth, and Harry came charging through the improvised path. He was dirty and bruised, but he was still soldiering on with great tenacity. The young hero’s eyes instantly went to Severus, but they popped open when he saw Rose’s ultimate predicament, on her knees execution style with Alistair and Malfoy’s wand turned to her. Harry exploded forward, roaring his frustration.

“Alistair, do you mind?” Lucius politely asked, and Alistair almost instantly stunned Harry, leaving him gasping for breath on the forest floor. “How nice of you to join us, Mister Potter. I do believe you are in time for the festivities.”

“Madman!” rasped Harry, feeling like a ten-ton boulder sat on his chest.

“Save your breath, Potter, we’ll get to you soon enough.” The tall, pale wizard’s thin lips twitched into a bizarre, sinister smirk, and his eyes turned back to his cohort. “Well, let’s have it, Beckett. Get on with it.”

Alistair paused for a dense moment, but after some hard, hesitant pondering, he turned his leader’s wand on his daughter and pointed. Knowing how weakened and powerless she was to beat them, Rose drove her nails into the soil, and she used the stillness to gather her thoughts together. She never imagined that it would really end this way, at the hands of her own father. But then, he wasn’t really her father at this point. There was nothing between them, nothing but hatred and rage. In a way, it was morbidly appropriate that she be put to death by the man who was responsible for her life’s miseries. As stubborn as Rose was, she knew when a battle had been lost, and after nineteen years, she had met her fate.

Rose turned to glance at a sob-torn Severus one last time, and then she bowed her head to the ground, closing her eyes to hide her own tears. She waited for the end to come.

Nothing happened.

Confused, Rose looked up with a watery stare. Alistair stared down at her with fraught dark eyes. His breath slowly became increasingly heavy pants, and Lucius’s wand quivered in his hand. He tried to speak, but words caught on the hard knot in his throat. At last, he snarled in his throat, rolled his eyes to the sky, and he turned back to Lucius, throwing the latter’s wand down at his feet.

“I can’t do it!” he declared.

“What?!” hissed Lucius. “Why not, Beckett?!”

“What does it matter why not? I just can’t do it.”

“Alistair,” Lucius suddenly growled. “I demand that you tell me why you disobey my orders!”

The elder Beckett gripped his hands together, his face suggesting that his head was about to explode. “I don’t have to tell you anything!”

“Maybe I should phrase it another way.” Lucius bent over and picked up his wand. “Tell me or I’ll curse you into the next century!”

“Because… _argh_ – because that’s my daughter, that’s why!”

The look on Lucius’s face looked like he had just been shot. That however paled in comparison to the shock in Rose’s red-stained eyes. Distraught though she already was, she could not find the words for this, if there were even any at all. In all her memorable life, Alistair had never recognized her as his offspring to another person in any way outside of a bare acknowledgement.

“Beckett, you are out of your mind!” barked Lucius. “You won’t kill your offspring? Is this not the same girl that you credit with the ruin of your family and your good Wizarding name, the same girl that you once called the greatest mistake you have ever made?”

Alistair puffed up his chest, as though he was preparing for one hell of a fight. “You just don’t understand, Lucius. She might have been a mistake – I still regret ever speaking to her mother outside that pub – but the fact remains that she is my child, and therefore, I have certain obligations to her.”

“Oh, for Prospero’s sake!” Lucius exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “You have no reason to fulfill any obligations. Did you honestly believe it was a better idea to honor a bloody custody agreement while forgoing your principles? Think of what you are compared to what she is. She is a Muggle-raised half-blood with no nobility, while you are a successful pure wizard from Ireland’s most astute family. You and I, we’re equals of sorts, and she’s below us. You don’t need that, and you never did. You have everything and nothing without her.”

“But she’s still my child,” said Alistair, quite frankly.

“Oh hardly! She is merely the result of a Muggle’s romp that went too far. You said it yourself, Beckett. She was never supposed to happen. You would have been a lot better off running off on that dirty broad after getting your leg over her. That way, you could have protected both your family, and your dignity.”

“That might be true, but _she’s still my child!!_ ” Alistair yelled back at Lucius, growling as he did so.

Taking advantage of the two arguing dark wizards’ diverted attention, Harry slowly stumbled over to where Rose was laying, and he helped her to sit up. Also finally getting up the courage to move out of place, Severus crawled over to the same spot. The weight of his body was supported under one arm, while the other remained firmly against his stomach. As soon as he was within reach, he gathered Rose up in his arms, and he held her close and tight, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. He felt more than slightly ill when he felt her weak hand grasp the taut fabric covering his midsection. He and Harry then turned to watch the chief Malfoy and the heir to the Irish Beckett estate continue in their rowing.

“I knew it, Beckett!” bellowed Lucius. “I knew that you didn’t have the guts to be one of us! If you really wanted to be a Death Eater, you would have killed her without even thinking about it. You would have killed her as a baby if it was demanded of you!”

“Lucius, will you just think for one bloody second about what you are asking me to do,” Alistair scowled. “You are demanding that I murder my daughter, my only child. If all else goes the way the rest of my life has, she may end up being all that’s left of my family line. Forgive my assumptions, but I have serious doubts that the rest of you would do the same. Just think about it, Lucius. If you stood before your son, and the Dark Lord himself told you to kill him, would you do it? Would you murder your boy?”

Lucius stood stoic and silent, but he did back away.

“I didn’t think so,” Alistair sneered.

“Draco was born to serve the Dark Lord,” Lucius bit back. “I raised him to aspire to follow our footsteps. What did you do with your daughter? Nothing!”

“I left her to be raised by Muggles.” Alistair finished the sentence with a sarcastic tip of his head. “If there’s one thing I know my ex-wife has done, it’s that she raised Rose to be tough. She could have been one of us. She could have been a proud Slytherin. Hell, I could have married her off to one of our sons when they were old enough!”

“All well and good, Alistair, but did that happen? No! You let your pride and dignity be reduced to this!” He pointed at Rose, who shrunk further into Severus’s chest. “A Gryffindor, a Muggle lover, a rebel against blood, and now, to top it all off, a whore!”

“It didn’t have to be this way.”

_‘Oh, now he admits to it?!’_ Severus angrily thought to himself. At this point, it was far too late for this sort of valor on Alistair’s part. Standing up to a high ranked Death Eater was one thing, but it was something else entirely to suddenly defend a child you claimed to hate. The frightening thing about it was the strange sincerity in Alistair’s words. He almost sounded like a parent when he talked like that, and it was not right in the slightest. And not least of all, Severus seethed over how it took life and death to push Alistair to this brink. Whatever was motivating him to do this, it couldn’t possibly have been Rose’s best interests.

“Oh bugger off!” Lucius sneered. “She’s just as much your fault as anyone else’s. Just look at what you’ve done now! I haven’t yet slaughtered this traitorous bastard because _your insufferable spawn_ keeps throwing herself in my way. I should be punishing _you_ for the fact that I’ve gone to so much trouble!”

“I have made my mistakes, and so have you.”

Lucius’s head reared back, and he let out an atrocious shout of anger and infuriation. “You spineless ingrate!” he bellowed. “You have no more honor than a sniveling rat! Why I ever put good faith in you, I’ll never know! You’ll be sorry you ever double-crossed me!” The furious Death Eater lashed out and grabbed Rose’s hair, ripping her out of Severus’s arms to the sound of her pained scream, and he threw her down to the ground. “If you care for your brat so much, then you can watch her die!” Lucius balled his fist and clobbered Rose in her cheek. He ignored her loud sobs as he wound up for another strike.

The punch came so quickly, he didn’t know what hit him.

Lucius toppled over across the clearing, landing directly on his face. Spitting out the dust and dirt, he pushed himself up, and he touched his throbbing face. He was briefly stunned when he saw the fresh blood on his fingertips, only then comprehending that it dripped from his pointed nose. He felt the surge of rage, seeing red all around him, and he turned his bloody face with a vexing stare.

Severus stood with a leg blocking Rose, who was now being cradled by Harry. Tears still ran down his face, but the eyes they poured from were as hard as stone. His body shook tensely, his white fists trembling with strength.

“You’re asking for it, Snape,” gnashed Lucius. “No one gets the better of Lucius Malfoy.”

“I believe the same should be said of you,” said Severus. He swallowed his tears, regaining his nature threatening tone. “What kind of bastard has the audacity to lay his hands on a woman like that? Is that what you have been teaching your boy? What would Narcissa think if she knew about this?”

“You’re just digging your own grave.” Lucius rose up to his feet, and he not so carefully tore the leather gloves from his hands.

“No Lucius,” Severus shook his head, bracing himself. “I’m taking something back. You wanted a fight, didn’t you? You came for me, well, here I am.”

Finally tasting the revenge he had come there for, Lucius roared and charged forward. He swung his fist toward Severus, but the Potions master hastily ducked to the side. Harry pulled Rose back further, and Severus took in a great breath. He could hear Harry shouting for him to stop as he rushed in toward Lucius.

It was almost unearthly to those around. Lucius was fast, not stopping to breathe as he thrust hard fists forward. But despite the fact that he had a little more bulk on him than the elder Malfoy, Severus had the grace and agility to dodge those punches, even if it was only by mere inches. He too struck and attempted to strike when opportunity arose, though he was always quick to turn his torso out of the line of fire. Lucius grabbed ahold of his collar to keep him still, but Severus grabbed his in return, using it as a distraction as he tried to kick the Death Eater’s legs out from underneath them. Lucius made a move for Severus’s abdomen, causing the latter to throw himself backwards to avoid impact. The Death Eater then widened his stance, becoming more and more animalistic with each attack.

Severus almost didn’t see his chance.

Feigning defeat, he dropped down to the ground. He ignored the shooting pain in his lower back, and his midsection was left unprotected. But if he wanted to gain advantage, he had to make Lucius think he had won.  The man wanted him dead, and he would not leave until he had finished the job. Smelling blood, Lucius moved in for the kill, fingers twitching to strangle the life out of his former comrade.

Then all of a sudden, Severus raised his foot with tremendous force, and he kicked Lucius right between the legs. The wind was knocked out of him instantly, not even allowing enough breath for Lucius to shout out in pain. Gripping at his family jewels, Lucius slunk over onto his side, his eyes pressed shut. Severus took a deep breath, and he groped around until he found Rose’s wand. He slowly stood up, and looked down at the whimpering wizard beneath him.

“You think that hurts?” he sneered. “You haven’t got a fucking clue.”

Using Rose’s ebony wand, Severus slowly levitated the barely conscious Lucius off the forest, and he immobilized his body as he hovered in midair. Severus prowled around Lucius’s floating form for a moment; there was probably a tremendous pun in this somewhere, and he wanted to relish the moment. But once he was done with his internal gloating, Severus clenched his fists together, and he laid into Lucius with all the strength he had left. He wanted the bastard to feel the same pain he had all that time ago. He wanted Lucius to know what atrocious things he had caused. Most of all, he wanted to return the violence that unwittingly created his unborn baby. He owed it to himself, and he owed it to the child who would hopefully never know of this madness.

Once he was out of breath and his hands were sore, Severus whipped Rose’s wand to the side, sending Lucius crashing back into a tree. The Death Eater slid down the trunk, too delirious to stand, and he shook his head to bring everything back into focus. Severus however didn’t want to give him the chance. He stormed up to him, unhindered by the concealed weight of his pregnancy, and he grabbed Lucius by his throat, pulling him up the tree, and forcing him to look upon his bruised and bloody face. A single rage-filled tear escaped as he stared into those empty gray eyes.

“If you ever come near me or my family ever again, I will have you begging for death before I’m through.”

Severus let go of Lucius, and he let him collapse to his knees. He raised a hand to wipe the rivulet of blood from the corner of his mouth, and he turned away. In the shadows, he could see Alistair’s shuddering form slinking back further into the darkness. He turned his head to offer a long glare. There were no words between them, but all understood all the same. If Alistair dared to speak out against Rose again, he would have to answer to Severus. Satisfied, Severus dropped down to his knees, and he opened his arms out to Rose. The wounded witch crawled out of Harry’s grasp and into Severus’s embrace.

“We need to get back to the castle,” gasped Harry. “Both of you have to get to Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible.” Harry stopped speaking abruptly when he saw Severus hunch slightly. He let out a weak, raspy groan as he gripped at his stomach. “Oh god – and quickly!”

“For once, Potter, you have stumbled upon a good idea,” Severus said in a worn-out voice. But as tired as he was, he still sat on edge, just barely clinging to control. He looked back to his defeated enemies, and then through the burnt-out shrubs where Lestrange groaned, clutching his bleeding leg, and Crabbe and Rowle struggled to overcome nasty hexes just to stand. “You keep an eye on these pests while I find Draco and get Rose out of here.”

“Sure thing, sir.” Harry gently nudged Rose in the shoulder, and he felt terrible when he noticed the definite flinch. “Hey, you did great.”

“Harry, don’t,” muttered Rose. Still so sore and weary from her triple exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, she barely had a voice, her desperation cracking her words. Severus gripped her tighter, and he slung a thin arm over his shoulder to help her up. But Rose pulled away, and with a last rush of power, she forced herself up onto one knee. Her red, swollen eyes met her father’s, which were looking down at her with a shame unlike any other she had seen.

“I hope you’re happy,” she said, and that was all. She bowed her head down, sniffing back the tears. Severus got to his feet again, and Rose took his hand. He whispered into her ear for her to come, and Rose obeyed without a second glance at Alistair

“Oh no!” Lucius suddenly roared, spitting away blood that dripped down his lips. Pushing himself off the tree, he scrambled across the ground until he found his wand in the Fluxweed. “ _No one gets away from Lucius Malfoy!!_ ”

At the snap of his elbow, a strange, golden mist exploded from the tip of Lucius’s wand. Opaque and almost powder-like, it seemed to catch the breeze, though not a breath of wind brushed past. Everyone watched as the mist floated toward the Potions master and his students. Severus braced himself, only to find it to miss. The spell circled around Rose’s head, thinning into a sinister spiral. Unarmed and drained, she made no move to defend herself, though her expression suggested that it was because she knew not what this was. Harry didn’t immediately move, but Severus kept a tight hold on his young lover’s upper body.

He felt his chest explode when, without warning, the gold mist forced its way into Rose’s mouth, through her nostrils, and down her throat. It dissipated as rapidly as it had materialized, and Rose collapsed down, grasping her thin neck.

“Rose!” cried Harry, rushing to her side. Rose tried to respond, but all she produced was a hard cough, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Harry instantly turned on Lucius, who was attempting to stand. “You monster, what have you done to her?!”

Severus crouched down lower to look Rose in the face, and his stomach dropped at what he saw. Rose’s blue eyes were bugging out intensely, and her mouth gaped wide. But no sound came from her, except for very hard, very short gasps, and weakening coughs. Severus felt his own breath stolen when he saw the color in her cheeks vanish, and her lips beginning to darken.

“She can’t breathe!” he shrieked. Already way ahead of his master’s orders, Harry whipped out his wand and began attempting to force fresh air down Rose’s trachea.

“You idiot!” Alistair suddenly growled, and he tackled Lucius to the ground, ripping the wand from his hands. “What the bloody fuck are you thinking?! It’s over, Malfoy! If she dies, we’re all going down!”

“Get off me!” yelled Lucius, flipping himself and the younger Slytherin over. He pinned Alistair down on the ground by his shoulders. “I’m the idiot, am I? I’ll show you who the idiot is!” Lucius’s knuckles cracked against Alistair’s jaw, and the latter responded by grabbing for those long blonde tresses. The ensuing brawl went unnoticed by Severus and Harry, who were still trying to stop Rose’s mysterious choking.

All of a sudden, there was a bolt of light, a bush blew to smithereens, and Lucius and Alistair toppled over like stone statues. Armed wizards stormed into the clearing, jolting Severus and springing Harry back into action. That however lasted only until they both got a look at these men and saw the moonlight shining off their Ministry badges. Any further confusion was resolved when the lumbering Hagrid came crashing through the trees, followed by a barrage of Hogwarts staff, led by a panicked and raging Dumbledore, running like a man a quarter of his age. Draco toddled in behind them, sweat dripping off his face and puffing for breath.

Dumbledore instantly fell to his knees before Severus, demanding to know if the younger wizard was injured. But Severus just couldn’t answer. It wasn’t the physical pain of the battle finally setting it. It was the paralyzing fear of what had just happened to his world. He could feel cramping in his abdomen, which was never good in pregnancy. And the only thing worse than worrying for the wellbeing of his child, it was the fact that he was watching Rose suffocate before his eyes. No longer in control of his emotions, Severus let out a low, racking sob.

The headmaster called for a stretcher to be transfigured, and he shouted out that they needed to get Severus back to the castle. But when he went to help Severus to his feet, the distraught Potions master pulled back and held tightly onto Rose, whose breath was becoming slower, and more desperate. Severus could feel her strength draining with every struggle to inhale, and he pleaded that they help her. Dumbledore recognized the emergency, and he assisted in magically resuscitating the young witch before Hagrid picked her up in his giant hands. Severus didn’t want to let her go, but he no longer had the strength to fight. His eyes were glued to Rose’s limp figure in Hagrid’s arms as he was shepherded over to the newly created stretcher, but he lost sight of her once Dumbledore started their little company down the path back towards the castle.

Tears burned his face the whole way.

**~HP~**

In the remote forest clearing, Draco paced back and forth in a slow, solemn manner. His breath was slow in an attempt to regain his stamina, and he was glad for at least this one moment of quiet. Just before they started off for the castle, Dumbledore requested that Draco and Harry stay behind with the Aurors to help tend to the detainees, who now leaned up against the trees like five imposing sculptures. But even after the others had gone to inspect the area for further evidence, Draco remained, glaring at the petrified figures while battling a wave of emotions.

Harry had told him everything. He told him why they were there, what was said, and what was ultimately done. And in doing so, Harry shattered what turned out to be the last great illusion of Draco’s life.

How could this have happened? How could his father have concocted such a devious scheme to do something so awful? Pretending to be an alcoholic to throw folks off your trail? Draco had a hard time believing the things that Harry reported back to him. And the more he thought, the more ill he felt. How could he have come from such madness?

“You said things would change,” he ground out, speaking face to face with his paralyzed father. “You said things would be different. You made me believe that you actually cared about us, but all you wanted was payback. You know, you actually had me fooled. You embarrassed me, the way you stumbled about town. But you couldn’t tell me what you were really up to, could you? I was too close to the enemy. I suppose I would have been the next to be punished after you were through with Severus and Rose.”

Draco turned his eyes rapidly to the right, where Alistair was immobilized. “And you – how could you possibly live with yourself? She was being tortured before you, and you did nothing. She could have died, and you stood idle. I may not understand you or your daughter, but what kind of spineless leech just stands there and watches their kid being killed? I suppose your only redeeming quality is that you were too much of a coward to do it yourself.” He then turned back to Lucius, and his eyes burned with anger.

“You were once my hero. I followed everywhere you led. But all that’s left me with is nothing! How can I look at you now and see any worth? He was your friend. He was your ally. And yet you resort to destroying him because you couldn’t have everything your way. You didn’t even kill him, and you’ve still ruined him. He’ll never recover from this. You’ve left Severus with a pain that nothing can ever take away. I should tell you that I know about the things you’ve done to him…and all I can say is that you disgust me. You really are raving mad if that is what you resort to. You couldn’t just pop him off. No, you had to draw it out. If only you could have seen what he’s gone through because of you, and he would have been a lot worse if he hadn’t met Rose. How could you have so little value for life, for anyone?”

Draco briefly turned away to let go of a hot teardrop, which he quickly wiped away with the sleeve of his jacket. He then turned back to Lucius’s stone stare. “You know…if you had succeeded tonight, you would have regretted it. You would have realized that you murdered a good man. You would have seen that killing Rose wasn’t worth it. And most of all, you would have destroyed the only truly good thing that has ever happened to Severus Snape.” He came closer, lowering his voice.

“You did more than just rape Severus back in August, far more. You probably didn’t know about some curses that the Dark Lord has used on us, including Severus. If you had succeeded in killing Severus, you would have also succeeded in taking an innocent life. He’s carrying your child, Father. Would you have been able to tolerate the idea of that? After all, this baby is of Malfoy blood. Would you so willingly destroy what little you have left?” In the distance he could hear rustling in the bushes. Suspecting that the Aurors would soon return, Draco stepped back again, this time pulling his wand out of his holster.

“All of you are going back to Azkaban, no doubts about that. But Potter tells me that there were some things seen and said tonight. I care about Severus, and by extension, that also includes Rose. I want them to see justice for what they have been through, but I cannot let that happen if it puts their lives in further peril.” He stared into Lucius’s eyes again, feeling his chest ache with each beat of his heart. “I’m sorry that our relationship had to end this way, Father, but I have to make my own way now. Severus, the baby, they’re my new family now. I’m going to protect what I have left with everything I’ve got.” Draco pointed his wand carefully, and he took in a deep breath of dewy evening air.

“ _Obliviate…_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know that there are parts of this chapter that don't entirely make sense, but it will all be resolved later on.


	72. Fading Memories

Thundering through the halls like a massive herd, students crowded around the hospital wing, where a nightgown-clad Madam Pomfrey already waited with a restless, worried expression chiseled into her brow. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, Hogwarts’ young residents moved with haste, and for an arguably good reason. Many of them had been awakened from their slumbers by the sound of a woman screaming outside their windows. Quite naturally, the response was for those students to wake up other students to ask if they had heard it too. Questions led to gossip, and gossip led to fretting. As they were living in a still recovering world, they were all aware of the possibility of random acts of violence, and that the possibility was very real. As a result, many of the older students decided the best thing was to break curfew and investigate. This of course made the underclassmen get antsy, overcome with nervousness and boredom, and it didn’t take long for them to follow suit, leading to an immense migration that converged on the third floor.

Ron and Hermione were among those first to venture out, leading the Seventh years like a duck leads its young. For them, the haste was even more urgent because not only did they recognize those screams in the distance, but they also saw the flashing lights from their dormitory windows. They were in such a hurry that they didn’t even stop to notice how Ron was shirtless and Hermione had on a barely-there pair of cotton shorts. Not caring one bit that they were barely dressed, they rushed down to the hospital wing, preparing themselves for what they might see. Their emotions instantly flared at the sight of Severus Snape on a floating stretcher, gripping at his stomach, and being shepherded by Dumbledore and McGonagall, who had just arrived in her dressing gown. But nothing in the world could have prepared them for what followed behind them. Hermione burst out into a cry when she saw Rose lying limply in Hagrid’s hands.

The rescue party rushed into the hospital wing as quickly as they had arrived, no one even glancing at the encroaching students. Riled into a panicked frenzy, Hermione and Ron pushed their way through the crowd, breaking the ranks just as Harry and Draco came jogging up to the hospital door.

“Harry, what happened?!” asked Hermione, gasping for breath. “What happened to them?!”

“We were attacked,” Harry rasped, pressing a hand against his ribs.

“What?!” barked Ron, making Hermione jump slightly. “By who?”

“Lucius Malfoy and his band of rogue Death Eaters.” Harry growled in his throat, though it was mostly due to the pain in his torso. The way the bruises were forming on him, it wouldn’t be surprising if he had a few broken bones. But, he kept repeating to himself, at least he was alive and he could still walk.

“Lucius Malf–,” Ron didn’t even finish the wizard’s name before he stormed up to Draco and pinned him against the wall. “You bastard! I knew I couldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. You’ve been working with your father all along! What did you do, send a rush owl to him to let him know you’d be out there?”

“Get a fucking grip, Weasley!” Draco ground out, his eyes glazed over. “If hadn’t been for me, we would all be dead right now!”

“Oh like I’m supposed to buy that!” growled Ron, balling up his fist as he swung his arm back.

“Whoa, Ron! He’s telling the truth!” Harry shouted, and he grabbed his best mate’s arm before he could actually sock Draco. “He was the one who ran up here to get help.”

“I discovered Alford Nott lurking around in the woods,” Draco explained quickly. “There wasn’t much talk. He shot at me, I shot at him – you get the idea. Once I had him disabled, I realized that if he was there, then there had to be others, and that’s when I heard the blasts. So I ran back to the castle and called for the Aurors that are carting them all off to Azkaban as we speak. I swear, I didn’t know my father was involved until I saw him for myself. Now let go of me, Weasley!” Ron reluctantly and abrasively released Draco’s collar, flexing his fingers in some sort of warning.

“Come on guys, we don’t have time for this!” Hermione wailed, and she grabbed Ron’s arm to pull him into the hospital wing. Harry and Draco followed close behind. They were met at the door by a worrisome Hagrid, who ushered them in with great ease while keeping any others out. The big doors then swung closed behind them.

“Oh Potter, Malfoy!” gasped McGonagall as she dashed up to them. “Come here, both of you need to be checked over.” Harry tried to assert that he was alright, but a twinge in his chest made him change his mind rather quickly. He limped his way over to a free bed, as did Draco, even though he was more tired than anything else.

Hermione could feel the tears welling up when she got a look at the shape Rose was in. There was no color in her face, except for the disturbing blue hue in her lips. A thin hand gripped her chest as she fought to breathe in, the attempts getting slower and weaker each time. The only thing that seemed to be keeping her conscious was periodic Renervating spells from Flitwick. At the side of the bed, Cassandra Wicker stood in her silk nightie, using her wand to force air into Rose’s lungs in an attempt to give her oxygen.

“How could have anyone have done this?” whispered Hermione, just barely containing herself.

“I dunno, Hermione,” mumbled Hagrid. “Ter think that we thought we’d seen the worst of it. Poor lass…a father who does that ter his kid doesn’t deserve ter be one.”

“Whoa, hold the fuck up!” snapped Ron, waving his hands. “Rose’s father was out there? He did that to her?!”

“Yah, the dirty bugger was there the entire time. Turns out he was spyin’ on us the las’ time he was here. Harry says Rose had ter put up a good fight ter get to that snake Malfoy. Didn’ even have the guts to look away while she was bein’ cursed.”

Ron clenched his fists together, and he made a move like he wanted to beat his chest like some kind of ape. “Argh, I could just kill him! I should have bludgeoned his brains when I had the chance!”

“What does it matter now, Ron?” whimpered Hermione. “No matter what we do, Rose and Snape are still in trouble. We can’t just stand here and complain about what happened when they could be dying!”

“Easy, Hermione,” said Hagrid. He stared across the long room to the bed where Rose lay, gasping with the puffs of involuntary air. “Yer friend is a strong one. If she can stand up ter the likes of Lucius Malfoy, she can get through this.”

At that moment, McGonagall came walking towards the little group, straight-backed as ever, but visibly distressed. “Hagrid, dear, thank you for your help tonight, but Albus and I can take it from here.” Hagrid understood the elder professor’s decision, and he bowed slightly to McGonagall as he bid her a good night. He rubbed the shoulders of both Hermione and Ron as he left.

“You two should head off as well,” said McGonagall, attracting their attention back. “Potter has got some broken ribs, and one of his vertebrae was cracked. It would better if you waited for him in your dormitories instead of staying here. It is close to half past two in the morning, and I can’t have students milling about. ”

“Professor, I can’t leave,” Hermione pleaded. “Our friends were attacked, and after all this time, I will not simply stand aside, even if it is the middle of the night.”

“The same goes for me,” said Ron, and he pulled his girlfriend closer to his side.

Just then, the door to Severus’s private room swung open, and Poppy rushed out. Albus jumped out of the chair he had been nervously occupying, and he gently grabbed hold of her arm. “Oh Poppy, how is he?” he asked very hurriedly.

“He’s faring better than I expected, but not as well as I hoped,” said the Mediwitch, a bit breathless. Without even glancing at the headmaster, she dashed over to Rose’s bed, and she began casting an arsenal of diagnostic charms on the struggling witch. “Severus doesn’t appear to have attained any serious injuries, but I had to give him a potion to stop the contractions. We would all be in trouble if he went into full-blown labour tonight. And it is clear that he has suffered emotional stress; he barely let me lay a hand on him. But other than that, he’s alright. He’s mostly just concerned for the baby.”

“Oh Merlin, is the baby alright?!” gasped Albus, and Ron had to hold Hermione back from running forward with the same response.

“I checked Severus over, and the baby still has a heartbeat. Actually, it doesn’t appear to have been affected much at all by the attack. However, we cannot be too sure just yet.”

“Why?” Albus rushed forward and grabbed Poppy’s arms, his eyes wide with tiredness and panic. “Why, Poppy, why?”

“Severus said that he hasn’t felt any movement from the baby since the attack, especially after he was hit with the Imperious Curse. I told him not to worry, but he’s afraid that there’s something wrong. Now if you don’t mind, I need to attend to Miss Beckett and see what’s causing these breathing problems!” Poppy pulled herself out of her headmaster’s grasp, and she went back to her frantic work.

Speechless, Dumbledore stood dumbstruck for about half a second before whipping his head in the direction of Severus’s room, and his heart dropped into his stomach. Poor Severus was hurt and upset, and he was all alone in there! Bypassing Harry and Draco, the surprisingly spry elderly wizard flew across the floor to the closed door. But while first instinct told him to bombard his way in, he didn’t want to make such a delicate, brittle situation any worse for the pregnant younger wizard. Containing his own worries and frets, Albus took a deep, cleansing breath before he pushed the door open with a low creak. But the terrible feeling inside did not improve when he looked in.

Severus was curled up on his side on the bed, stripped down to a simple nightshirt. Even at a distance, Albus could see the violent tremble that shook the ordinarily strong body, and he heard the horrible hiss of the Potions master’s rattled breathing. Very slowly, the old man approached the bed, his worn hands aching with the anxiety. He noticed that one of Severus’s hands gripped the pillow like a vice, while the other pawed at his swollen middle. The low lamplight reflected hauntingly off the trails of his tears.

Stepping up behind Severus’s turned back, Albus paused without a word, and he reached out a comforting hand to touch him. But at the slightest touch of his finger, Severus flinched hard, and he yelped through tightly clenched teeth. “Severus, it’s alright,” he gently said. “It’s only me here. You’re safe now.” To his dismay, Severus shifted further toward the opposite side of the bed. Albus swallowed hard, pressing his eyes shut as he listened to his dear friend fighting to hold back the sobs.

“Oh, you poor boy…what has that monster done to you?” he mumbled, more to himself than to Severus, but the Potions master surprised him when he hitched his breath.

“He came back…” he sniveled. “He came to finish what he started.”

“Yes, I was afraid that this might happen. Malfoy was a wandering madman, and he was a danger to us all. I just hoped that for once, I was just being a loony old man.”

Severus continued in his distraught rambling, getting more hysterical by the word. “He wanted to kill me. He came out there just to have his way with me. He tried to kill the kids – he hurt them! My baby…Albus, he hurt my baby!”

“No!” cried Albus, flying across the room to stand on the other side of the bed, allowing him to look the weeping wizard right in the eye. He crouched down beside Severus, cupping his cold, pale cheek in his hand. “No, Poppy has already checked you out, and she says that everything is just fine. The baby is alright, my boy.”

“I can’t feel it, Albus!” Severus wailed, knuckles turning white over his belly. “It’s not moving! How can it be alright if it hasn’t moved in over an hour?! My child could be paralyzed before it’s even born, and it’s my fault!”

“Severus –,”

“It’s my fault!” Severus buried his face into the pillow, letting go of those tightly wound sobs. “Oh god, it’s my fault. I’ve risked the life of an innocent child, and that girl is suffering in my place!”

“Severus, no,” Albus gently commanded. He softly tapped Severus’s wet cheek, coaxing him to open his eyes a touch. “There is no one more to blame for tonight than that sorry excuse for a wizard. It was he that deemed you worthy of such unjust punishment, and it was by no means based in reality. He’s a madman, Severus. You cannot blame yourself for the faults of another. Rest assured, my dear boy. He’s heading back to Azkaban tonight, and this time, we will see to it that he never again sees the light of day. You and the baby are safe.” He rested his hand on the curve of Severus’s abdomen. “Your child is alive tonight because of you. You fought to protect it, even as you fought for your own life. Severus, you were so brave out there, and those kids owe a lot to you.”

“Oh…Rose…” Severus moaned into the pillow. Albus suddenly saw a new fear rising up to the surface. “Rose…”

“She’ll be okay,” said Albus, though there wasn’t a great deal of confidence in those words. “She and Harry both would have been goners if you hadn’t taken out Malfoy. No, they’ll make it through this. Young people are a hardy bunch.”

He would have continued on if his words were not cut off by a hard, loud gasp, an atrocious sound that only made Severus cringe. Albus wanted to stay and comfort the wretched pregnant man, but the urgency of the situation brewing in the open hall was too much to ignore. The elderly wizard gave Severus’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and he quietly made his way out of the chamber, closing the door behind him to shut out the noise.

Poppy was now running around the wing, rummaging through drawers and cabinets in a desperate search. By now, many of the original company had gone, and Minerva had taken Filius’s place at keeping Rose conscious. Cassandra was holding the poor girl close to her body, supporting her exhausted form. Both women turned their eyes slightly, not wanting to look at the sickly paleness that only enhanced the air-deprived color of her lips.

“Hurry Poppy!” exclaimed Minerva. “I don’t think she can hold on much longer without oxygen!”

“I’m looking as fast as I can,” Poppy hurriedly said. “I know it’s around here somewhere.”

“I don’t understand, Poppy,” said Albus. “Why can’t she breathe properly? What has Malfoy done to her that is making her choke?”

“I can’t say for sure, Albus,” explained Poppy, still searching through her entire stock of bottles and jars. “Potter described the spell as best he could. I only know of one spell that is vaguely similar to that description. I saw it many years ago in my training in London. A wizard was brought into St. Mungo’s with identical symptoms, and no one could pin down why, only that he was cursed. All he managed to say before he succumbed was _Praefoco_. It wasn’t until years later that I learned what the curse did. It releases stifling particles that coat the lining of the lungs, and it prevents oxygen from absorbing, slowly smothering its victim to death.”

“Then what are we standing around for?!” snapped Ron. “You’ve got to save her! There’s a cure for this, isn’t there?”

“There is, Weasley, but it is new and still relatively experimental.” Poppy disappeared into her office momentarily, and it wasn’t too long before they heard her harried yelp. The Mediwitch reentered the ward, carrying a small bottle of obsidian black liquid. She then hastily yanked the cork out of the neck and she ran to Rose’s bedside. “No spell can clean out the lungs of this curse,” she explained. “However, she still has a chance if we act fast.”

“What will the potion do?” asked Minerva. “Will it help her breathing?”

“What it should do is loosen the spell matter in her lungs, which should provide some relief. But the only one who can actually bring it back up is Miss Beckett. That is why the potion also induces a severe cough.”

“She’s got to cough up all that crap?” Harry asked with a shudder.

“Unfortunately Potter, yes,” said Poppy. She turned to face Cassandra, who was still cradling Rose like a child. “Cassie, seeing that you have an attachment with Miss Beckett, I must advise you that this won’t be easy to watch. I would suggest that you step out. Perhaps you could go sit with Severus for a while.”

“No,” said Cassandra, shaking her head. She stroked Rose’s temples, biting her lip at the awful gasps she made. “Even if Severus would have me, I wouldn’t leave a student now.”

“Very well,” Poppy turned to the four remaining students. “Potter, you will have to stay a while longer, but the rest of you don’t need to be here.” She tried to put it across in her tone and in her face that this was _not_ going to be a pleasant experience, and it did seem that they understood. Both Ron and Draco shrugged and slowly walked toward the door, leaving in a disturbing silence. But even as she watched her boyfriend and her nemesis go out, Hermione made no move to join them, and though her frame wilted, she sat down on the end of Harry’s bed.

Poppy let out a sigh, and she let her eyes close as she shook her head. She then exchanged a nervous glance with Minerva, and she pulled a curtain around the bed.

**~HP~**

It truly was one of the most horrible sounds to be heard by anyone in the hospital wing. All had seen terrible forms of torture, and they had seen suffering of all kinds. But no matter how much pain they had witnessed in their lives, it did not dull the aches of seeing it again, especially when it happened to those they cared for,

As Rose was unable to swallow, Poppy spelled the thick, black potion directly into her system before quickly preparing the other two female staff members. Within minutes, Rose’s weak gasps became hard coughs, which got louder and harder with each passing second. It wasn’t long before she was hunched over in Cassandra’s arms, straining to bring up every raspy bark. To those around her, it sounded as though Rose was trying to hack up her entire lung, screaming with the effort. What made it worse was that it seemed to go on and on, not giving Rose a chance to rest. Not looking at the curtain, Harry and Hermione flinched hard, biting their lips to stay silent themselves.

Both Minerva and Cassandra whispered little words of solace to Rose, even though they both knew it likely went unheard. Minerva laid a comforting hand on her student’s shoulder, and she felt her stomach dropping as she held the folded handkerchief up to Rose’s mouth. The alarm worsened when she pulled her hand away to find red blotches on the white fabric. But the blood did not deter Poppy, as heavy of a decision it was. Rose had to expel that choking spell matter, even if it damaged her lungs further than they already were. Bloody handkerchiefs soon littered the floor, and Hermione shielded her eyes while Harry retched behind his hand. But still, it did not stop. Tears ran uncontrollably down Rose’s face, but the coughing just would not stop. Everyone there wished there was a way to give their strength to this young woman who was losing hers with every rattled breath.

All the while, unbeknownst to everyone there, Severus wept freely into his pillow, listening to his young love struggling outside his private chamber.

**~HP~**

Hermione jumped slightly in her seat as the door to Madam Pomfrey’s office creaked open. In an act of compassion and sympathy, Dumbledore made the decision to shuffle her and Harry into the smaller room, thus preventing them from seeing or hearing any more of their friend’s laborious fight. The young Gryffindors both felt like they were betraying Rose by leaving the open ward, but if they hadn’t, both of them risked becoming violently ill. Instead, they tried to keep themselves composed, Hermione twitching in her seat and Harry stretched out on a short sofa, both wishing themselves deaf against the dull noise outside.

The headmaster was sitting patiently at Poppy’s desk when the Mediwitch entered. He pivoted swiftly on the chair, and he laid his hands out on the wooden surface. “Oh Poppy, how is she?” he asked, inquiring about Rose before either of the two students had the chance. Poppy’s eyes fell to the floor, and she shook her head along with the deep breath she took in.

“It’s not good, Albus. It’s not good at all,” muttered Poppy. “We managed to clear Miss Beckett’s lungs and trachea, but the potion has left her with untold amounts of scarring. She is still bringing up some amounts of blood, and she’s barely getting enough oxygen as it is.”

“How is she now?” Harry spoke up, struggling against his broken ribs.

“She’s unconscious,” Poppy answered mutely, not meeting anyone in the eye. “The exertion of the coughing has completely exhausted her, and she was already so weak. It’s not often that I see someone who has been exposed to the Cruciatus Curse three times in the same encounter. Whatever strength she had left was spent on coughing. I will be very honest, Albus…I don’t know if she’ll survive the night.”

Hermione’s wet eyes burst open, and Harry’s jaw hit the floor. “She’s dying?!” exclaimed the Head Boy. “Can’t you do something?!”

“I’m afraid that all we can do is wait, Mister Potter. Miss Beckett’s condition is critical, but relatively stable for now, and I will be monitoring her throughout the night. But whether or not she’ll wake up, I just cannot say.”

All of a sudden, there was a terrible wail from outside the office. Dumbledore was on his feet and out the door before a single word could be said. Harry and Hermione swallowed hard; they thought they had heard awful things that night, but that was before they heard the cries of a distraught and hysterical Severus Snape. Now Harry was hunching over himself, keeping a hand firmly over his mouth. Poppy tapped Hermione on the shoulder, and she gently ushered her out of the office so that she could at last attend to Harry’s injuries.

The door was closed for barely a minute before Hermione heard Severus yell again. “Get out!” he howled. “ _GET OUT!!_ ”

Dumbledore stumbled over the hem of his robes as he backed out of Severus’s private room, closing the door behind him on the way. He seemed to silently debate his place as he stood in front of the old doorway. He actually looked very upset, and Hermione could understand why. He wanted to help Severus, but there was nothing that could help him through this. Hermione watched as the elderly wizard turned to head out, bidding a solemn farewell to McGonagall, who was still standing at Rose’s bedside.

Unable to process thought, Hermione leaned herself against the stone wall, and she slid down to the floor. For a witch so powerful, she felt so helpless. Once again, she was back in that world of suffering, and she could not do a thing about it. She wanted to cry, but even tears required effort. Staring at the curtain surrounding Rose’s bed, Hermione simply sat and waited for anything, anything at all to happen.

But then she heard Severus’s sobs again through the door, and she felt her heart tearing. Hermione realized that through all of this, Severus had heard every last bit of it. And after such a stressful attack, she imagined that all he wanted was for Rose to be there with him. The fact that she was in worse shape than he had to be gut-wrenching for the poor Potions master, and Hermione’s heart finally broke for him.

Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione found herself crawling along the floor, getting more to her feet as she went, until she finally stood before Severus’s door. She didn’t know what was propelling her forward, but she felt no hesitation in her body or her soul. Hermione looked over her shoulder to be sure that she wasn’t being watched, and she quietly pushed the door open, slipping in before she could be noticed.

“Get out, Granger,” groaned Severus, stopping Hermione in her tracks. She almost couldn’t believe how wretched and sickly he looked, hunched over his prominent bump on the edge of the full bed. His red, swollen eyes were almost unrecognizable after so many shed tears. And he held his hands to his face in a way not unlike Harry did that night. It was then that Hermione noticed the basin that lay at his feet.

“I’m just trying to help,” she said, stepping forward carefully. But Severus just rolled his eyes pitifully, muttering, “There is nothing you can do to help.” He lurched forward suddenly, and he swallowed hard behind pressed lips.

“Oh no, sir!” Hermione rushed, dashing forward to her professor’s side. “Try to calm down. If you get sick now, you’ll bring up your potion, and you’ll start having labour pains again. Please, just think of the baby. She’s not ready to come out just yet.” Hermione didn’t even realize that she was touching Severus until she looked down and saw her hand on his shoulder. But instead of ripping it out of its socket, Severus stared up at her mournfully.

“I don’t really see the point,” he mumbled. “I’ve already caused enough harm tonight.”

“No sir,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Your baby is fine. Madam Pomfrey said it herself –,”

“I can’t feel my baby, Granger!” Severus shouted at the young witch, and Hermione stumbled back slightly. “The life I have been nurturing all this time doesn’t feel like it’s even there anymore. I don’t care what Pomfrey says, something is wrong!” Fresh tears poured from his obsidian eyes, and Severus raised a hand to shield them from view.

Hermione quietly stepped up to the Potions master, and she again rested her hand on his shoulder, getting his attention. Very gently, she coaxed him to lean back a little bit, allowing him to support himself with his weak arms. She then pulled her wand out of the waistband of her cotton shorts, aiming at the round bump at Severus’s waist. Without telling him what she was doing, Hermione gave a slow, graceful flourish, and the room was filled with the soft, gentle sound of the baby’s steady heartbeat.

“You hear that?” she cooed. “I want you to concentrate on that sound. Your baby is alive, and it’s not in distress. Perhaps you aren’t feeling her kick because she was a little stunned by the excitement of the duel. Give it some time and rest, and she’ll liven up again.”

“I can’t rest until I know my child is safe,” said Severus, wiping the tears from his face with the cuff of his sleeve. “I cannot simply trust the words of others when it’s my body and my blood. It was my responsibility to keep my child safe, and if I lose it, I am the only one to blame.”

“Sir…Severus,” mumbled Hermione, taking a chance in her choice of words. “It wasn’t your fault that it happened. You were attacked by a bunch of guys who have long fallen off their rockers. Lucius Malfoy lost his mind, and you were a random target of his madness.”

“You foolish girl!” Severus moaned, and he stood up off the bed to uncomfortably pace around the room. “This was no random act of violence. If you had been out there, you would have known that before the first hex was fired off.”

Hermione swallowed, clutching her hands at her sides. “What do you mean?”

“Lucius went mad long ago, and his objective in this new world, with no dark regime to boost his status, was to make me pay for it. He had me pay in blood, in pain, and ultimately, he would make me pay with my life. He’s already done far worse to me than the Dark Lord ever did, and tonight was to be his crowning achievement.”

Hermione was silent for all of thirty seconds before a series of thoughts and memories came together in her head, and realization came crashing down on her distressed mind. “Oh sweet Merlin!” she gasped. “He’s the one that raped you, isn’t he? He’s the baby’s other father!”

Severus suddenly turned on his heels with remarkable speed, and he gripped at his heavy belly as he pointed fiercely at his student. “Who told you that?!” he snapped. “Answer me before hex you into the wall!”

“Rose told us. She said that you got pregnant because you were raped by another wizard. She had to say it to convince Harry and Ron that you weren’t fooling around on her. But she never told us who it was that did it to you. Oh Severus, I can’t believe I never thought of this! If it wasn’t You-know-who, then who else could be the father?”

“That monster is no father!” he snarled. “He doesn’t know that his first attack knocked me up, and it shall remain that way. And I swear it to you, Granger. If you so much as suggest that to anyone, I will personally make sure that you pay dearly for your stupidity.” He then turned away again to lean against the wall, and Hermione could hear the distinct sniveling of her professor’s tears. She choked back her own emotions with a hard swallow.

“It makes sense now,” she said. “That’s why the baby means so much to you and Rose. It’s the only good thing to come out of a horrible experience.”

“Don’t be silly,” croaked Severus. “You know nothing of my experiences.”

“I know that they were far too cruel for a man who’s been through so much, and not even you deserve what has happened. But…” Hermione paused briefly, hands trembling at her waist as she floated forward. “But none of that matters anymore. What matters is right now.” She took a deep breath through her nose, filling her tense chest. “Everything is going to be okay.”

With a great cry, Severus whirled around, gripping the wall to prevent the loss of balance. Tears now freely flowed down his pale face, and the wizard made no move to hide his emotions from Hermione. “You stupid bitch!” he moaned. “How can you say something like that when it’s right in front of you? No, nothing is okay! I was almost killed by the bastard who knocked me up! I might have caused irreversible harm to my unborn child! And because of me, others were hurt!”

He collapsed against the wall, and he sobbed into his sleeve. Hermione felt the burn of her own tears returning to her eyes, and her breath was sucked back with a high gasp. She knew that pregnancy had its ways with emotions, but no mood-swing in all of history could have compared to watching a man actually falling apart at the seams. Hermione’s heart ached; she always knew Severus as a strong, albeit stubborn man. She knew his condition had made him vulnerable, but she always thought that the course temperament was still there under the softened exterior. She never thought that she would ever see this ultimate emotional low. Hermione could taste her own sick as she struggled to fight off the urge to weep.

“Severus…I’m so sorry,” she tried to say, her voice tight and cracking.

“She took the curses that were meant for me,” said Severus. He dragged his hand across the wet trails on his pallid cheek. “I told her to save herself, but she wouldn’t listen. They tortured her just to get her out of their way!”

“She did it to save you,” said Hermione. “Rose wouldn’t put herself in such danger if she didn’t have a good reason. She only went out there to make sure that you and the baby were safe, because she loves you.”

“And once again, love has only brought pain.” Severus swallowed hard, and he moved to stand over the bucket by the bed. “I heard her out there, Granger. I felt every last bit of pain those fits caused her. I felt like I would be sick every time I heard her choke on her own breath. I could barely breathe for myself when I knew that she couldn’t. Granger, I could feel my strength draining with hers, and there was nothing I could do!”

“You were thinking of her.” Hermione bit her lip as she attempted to breathe away the fat tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t speak for Rose, but I know that she knew you were there for her, even if you were not by her side. If she drew strength from anything, it was you.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” said Severus with a slow shake of his head. “No one can endure the tortures of the Cruciatus Curse and then fight off that sort of dark magic. What did Pomfrey say to you out there?”

“Severus,” squeaked Hermione. It was frankly astounding how a man who was already in so much distress would risk himself by asking for answers that would make it all worse. Oh yes, Hermione knew that Severus knew it wasn’t good news, and yet he wanted to know anyway. “You need to relax, and I don’t want to say anything that would upset you.”

“I don’t care about my wellbeing anymore.” Severus spoke against a hard crack in his voice. “Rose is suffering because of me, and no one thinks to tell me what is going on. I know you know, Granger. All I ask of you is an answer.”

Hermione swallowed hard, choking on the knot in her throat. “You won’t like the answer I have. It’s not good out there.”

“I have been through enough in my life, and too many things have gone wrong. Rose is all I have left. A bad answer is better than knowing nothing.” Severus turned his head to the floor before turning to look Hermione in the equally teary eye. And it was this simple look that caused Hermione’s emotional wall to break down. Drops flowed down her cheek, and her hands trembled at her side.

“Rose is barely hanging on. The drain of the Cruciatus Curse and the coughing just took everything out of her, and she’s been without proper breath for too long. We don’t…we don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

The room plunged into silence as Hermione waited for Severus to respond. At first, it didn’t seem like it was registering, as Severus stood as still as he ever had. But just as Hermione parted her lips to speak, the words were stolen away when Severus’s face went a deathly white.

“No…” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. His whole body seemed to go rigid, and he deteriorated into shakes within seconds. Hunching over himself, Severus brought his quivering hands up, attempting to silence his increasingly hysterical breaths. But it was no use, and the distraught wizard fell to the floor, crumpling up on his knees as he sobbed into his knuckles. All the while, he kept repeating his desperate denial, his low whisper becoming a wretched howl.

“Severus!” Hermione rushed up behind and took hold of the Potions master’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. But she might as well have been air for Severus did not move from his place on the floor. He just kept on wailing into the stone beneath him.

“ _No!!_ ” he cried, “ _No, Rose!! Rose!!_ ”

Hermione tried as best she could, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t make all this better. She couldn’t take away her professor’s pain. She was as hopeless as she was helpless. And in no time, the same weakness that overtook him claimed her. She fell down to kneel behind Severus, her hand gripping his shoulder, weeping with him in their shared grief.

**~HP~**

The silence of the night performed its terrible song, and the hospital wing fell back into inky black. The chaos of the battle’s aftermath finally died down in the wee hours of the morning, and forlorn friends and colleagues made their way back to their beds. They all had their qualms about leaving, but waiting would not be made any easier by being there. Even Poppy had to take her leave for the night, though she was ready for any drastic changes in her patients’ conditions at a moment’s notice. She had exhausted all of her efforts, done everything she could do. Whatever happened from now on was in the hands of fate.

At a glance, it was as though nothing had happened. The castle was dark, the halls were quiet, and its denizens were asleep, as soundly as sound could be…all except for one.

Bathing in the moonlight flooding through the window, Severus curled over his swollen belly on the edge of the bed. His breath came in deep gasps through his nostrils, and clammy sweat covered just about every part of his body. Though the violent sobs had at last subsided, it was impossible for him to relax enough to fall asleep. Many had suggested that he take a Sleeping Draught, but Poppy informed them that it would not be completely safe at this stage of Severus’s pregnancy. That left the miserable Potions master to fight through the terrible storm blowing through his mind.

The nightmares would begin the instant his tired eyes closed, and this time, it wasn’t just an endless replay of the night’s events. No matter what he saw in his dreams, Lucius Malfoy was there. He was with him in the forest. He was in the dirty back alley. He was there in his unborn child’s nursery! He couldn’t escape the savage monster, and he couldn’t protect his family. Months of struggling to regain control of his life and mind, and it had all undone in a matter of hours. Dulled though it was, the horror of rape had returned.

It was as though his own emotions were attempting to kill him from the inside out. Sure, they had lightened up somewhat, especially after Granger was made to leave. But they were still wreaking havoc on him, and no potion in existence could take them away.

Three hours it had been since the attack, and Severus still had not felt any movement from the baby. His mind was forever replaying the sound of that quick little heartbeat, but he could not find any relief for this heavy worry. He would be worlds better if he felt one little kick, one soft stroke, just so he knew his unborn child was still okay, that he had nothing more to fear. If anything, he wished to be rid of this worry that was weighing down his already troubled mind. It wasn’t him or the child who was in the greatest danger.

Severus felt his heart drop at the bare thought, and he choked back another bout of tears.

This couldn’t be happening to him. Rose couldn’t be dying out there. His brave, strong Rosie, who had fought her way through the fires of Malfoy’s Hell to protect him, couldn’t be fading so quickly. Severus had always been aware of the fact that she was in trouble, and he had heard the frantic attempts to revive her. But it took Granger’s tearful revelation for the reality of it to hit like a bolt from the blue. Severus gripped at his chest, trying and failing to breathe away the pain in his heart.

He couldn’t take this anymore, he just couldn’t. Too many people had died as a result of his actions, and he couldn’t take one more. And why in the name of all that was magic did it have to be her? Losing Lily had devastated his past, and the pain of her death continued to haunt him. But Rose was all he had now. She was the flame that lit his way through the dark, his last chance for a complete, happy life. She was the blessing that he never thought he deserved, and she was the force that he couldn’t live without. If Severus lost her, it would all be over for him. Life as he had come to know it would end. He wouldn’t be able to go on without her, and Severus felt ill at the very thought.

But he was thinking of her.

Severus thought with tremendous sorrow of how Rose was lying out in the ward all alone. He wondered if in the midst of her struggling, she remembered him. A love as strong as theirs, she had to feel his presence behind the thick stone walls. But of course, thoughts and feelings were no substitute for a tight, loving embrace. And no amount of healing thoughts and prayers could truly be of any use, especially at a distance.

Severus had nothing more to give Rose, nothing except his love and support. But as he gazed up at the starry night sky, he remembered how Rose never asked for more. All she wanted was to be by his side. And even if it was the last thing he did, he was not going to abandon her now.

Very quietly, not to mention painfully, Severus eased up onto his feet, and he crept over to the door of his chamber on bare feet. Not even thinking about what he was doing, he turned the old door handle, and he pulled it open with the lowest of creaks. The pregnant wizard took a deep breath before stepping out into the ward. Briefly, Severus looked around just to be sure of his solitude. But it wasn’t long before those deep, forlorn eyes feel on the white façade that surrounded the lone occupied bed in the wing. Swallowing hard, Severus choked back a hard breath, and he slowly approached the small opening at the bed’s foot. He allowed himself one more moment’s preparation before he inhaled and poked his head inside.

To him, Rose looked worse than death itself. Her already pale skin was a pasty white, the only color to be seen being the black and blue blotches on her torso and exposed arms. Her bruised lips still gave her face a ghostly appearance, now aided by deep dark circles beneath her closed eyes. Severus was particularly unnerved by the rusty red smudges around the contours of her mouth, the remains of regurgitated blood. Her arms were draped across her abdomen, but neither they nor any other part of her body moved. Severus couldn’t even make out if her chest was rising and falling. She just lay there, like the figure of an ancient power laid to rest in the tomb.

The tears returned before Severus had a chance to stop them.

There was no chair for him to occupy, probably taken away when the others had left the wing. Instead, Severus slunk up to the side of the bed, and with a hand on his sore, burdened back, he eased down onto the edge of the mattress. It was nothing more than a feather-stuffed sack, and Severus winced at the noticeable lack of support it provided. If it was this bad for him, then it had to be hell on his lover’s broken body. But Rose showed no pain in her face, nothing that would disturb her from this deathlike stillness. Severus reached out a quivering hand, and with barely any pressure, he touched Rose’s lily white, freckle-dusted wrist. She was almost cold to the touch.

“You really are a right and proper Gryffindor,” he mumbled to the comatose girl. “I tell you to run, but you didn’t listen. You fight when you’re warned not to…you stand firm in the face of danger. I don’t know how anyone could doubt your bravery. I don’t know why you ever did.”

Somewhere deep inside, Severus hoped that his touch would help bring Rose back to consciousness. But he knew that he would have no such luck. No spell known to wizard kind could bring back the dead, and love could not stop death from happening.

“For god’s sake, why didn’t you listen to me? You had to know that they would try and kill you if you got in their way. And yet you did it anyway. You have seen the horrors of war, and yet you threw yourself right back into it. But was it worth this cost? My life is not that valuable, not as valuable as yours. Oh god, if only this had happened later. My child would have been born safely, and you would not have been caught up in this madness. Perhaps Malfoy should have just killed me after raping me, at least then you would have been spared any of this. Why is it that those who deserve the least suffer the most?”

It was true, Severus thought to himself. In all the time he had known her, Rose had not done one thing worthy of this, worthy of death itself. In eight years, he had watched her grow from an obedient little child into a dutiful, courageous young woman. He had seen her go through the trials of war and battle, and then return to civilian life with her head held high. Like so many Gryffindors before her, she seemed invincible.

But she was human. She was made of flesh and bone, easily broken. She had a heart and spirit, both fragile beyond understanding. She was born of mortal blood, and sooner or later, she would return to the ground. Severus knew that Rose, like all others, would run her course of life, and she would ultimately succumb to her mortality. But it couldn’t turn out like this. She had so much more to give in this world. She had a life outside these castle walls, a family, and friends. She would be leaving behind a trove of memories, and he had only seen a few years of them. Severus swallowed hard, holding back tears as his hand travelled up to caress her pale face.

He promised her that he would never betray her trust, never doubt her word. But as well as he knew and loved her, he only knew what she had become. And if he was ever to see Rosella Beckett at her fullest, if he was ever to know the woman he loved for all that she was, this might be his last chance. Begging forgiveness from Rose and every soul in the universe, Severus inhaled deeply as he concentrated on the unconscious mind beneath his hand.

He saw rolling green hills, and he saw a field of daisies under a cloudless sky. A small toddler was wobbling her way through the grass, the brightness of her yellow dress only outshined by her vivid red hair, tied up into short little pigtails. Grasping a flower in her chubby little fingers, she hobbled on stubby legs and then collapsed into the arms of a young woman with brown hair and bright eyes. Encased in this loving embrace, being showered with laughter and high-pitched praise, the little beauty let out the oh-too-familiar giggle that tugged at Severus’s insides.

He saw a crowd of children in front of a small school house, and the same red-haired child dashed across the yard in a pink pinafore. He watched as she ran up to meet a small grouping of her classmates, a few of which she shared a resemblance with. Together they laughed and screamed and fuddled about in their silly childhood games. A moment passed, and suddenly they were in a house, in a small sitting room, huddled together on the floor as they listened to the thrilling conversation of the adults around them. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light, and she leaned into the comforting hand of the family’s elderly patriarch. Rose might not have been overly fond of her Muggle family in maturity, but now Severus saw the reason why she returned to them each year.

He saw the grand halls of Hogwarts, and she was there in the midst of a sea of nervous smiles. With Jonny Cederman and Natasha Moschovitz, she made her own way in the magical world, creating an incredible identity for herself with the support of even better friends. He saw her growing up with Harry Potter and his mates, the Boy-who-lived as her idol. He saw the smile that graced her lips for each clever spell, every immaculate potion. There she was, a quiet, insecure schoolgirl blossoming into a strong witch, determined to surpass her name’s reputation in renown, and succeeding through the hardships of war. He saw her celebrating freedom with her friends, toasting to a life to come.

Basking in the light of a setting sun, he saw her wrapped in the comforting embrace of Dante Macleod, and he saw the untainted happiness in her sparkling eyes as she leaned into his broad chest. In those eyes was a love so innocent and pure that nothing could compare. It was painful to witness, but oh was it beautiful! And there, Severus saw what her future would have been if Voldemort’s war had not happened.

“Your life has been too good for it to end this way,” Severus croaked, choking on his tears. “For all you have been through, you have so much to be thankful for. And you have so much more to give. You just can’t give up now.” And with that, Severus felt the last of his control slip away, and the stream of tears once again rolled down his palled face.

“I know you can hear me, Rosie. I know you’re still with us. You have to hear me when I say this; you cannot leave us. You cannot let your father’s mistakes claim your life so needlessly, you’re stronger than that. Think of your mother. Think of your friends. They all need you, love. They would all be lost without you.  Think of…think of me.” The distraught wizard carefully lifted Rose’s limp hand off the bed covers, and he gave her a gentle squeeze. He shuddered to feel the cold silver of the promise ring that was still around her right finger.

“I’m nothing without you, Rose. My life wasn’t complete until I met you, and I can’t go back to the way I was. How am I supposed to get by without you by my side? How can I go a day without your support? How can I raise my child without you?” Not entirely aware of what he was doing, Severus lifted Rose’s hand just enough to rest it on the curve of his stomach, gently pressing it there with his own. “The baby needs its mother, and no one but you can take on that role. You have been there since the beginning, and we have to see this through together. Don’t make me do this, Rosie. Don’t leave me to bring up this baby alone. I’ve lost too much in my life, and I won’t let the best thing that’s ever happened to me slip away so easily. For god’s sake…just wake up…wake up.”

But no matter how much he begged, how desperate the plea, Rose did not stir. When the realization that nothing was going to help her now hit, Severus felt as though the castle was caving in around him. He couldn’t even feel life in his beloved anymore. Severus knew the pain of loss too well, but to see it before him was unbearable. And how weak and helpless he felt to be grasping for a soul that had slipped out of reach. Pain ripped through Severus’s chest; he had to come so far only to lose everything in one night.

Forgetting, or perhaps ignoring her fragility, Severus slipped his hands underneath the lithe weight of Rose’s torso, and he lifted her up to lay limply in his arms, cradling her head to his shoulder. He rocked her body gently, crying as he had only cried once before. Though a small part of him still hoped that Rose would come to right there, the pain of reality crushed it down. Rose’s life was out of his hands now. The only thing he could do now was to give his Rosie the one thing she would have wanted, and that was quiet and calm with those she loved.

**~HP~**

Poppy Pomfrey sank into an abandoned visitor’s chair with a deep sigh as the dawn finally broke over the mountains. Stirring her first cup of stiff morning tea, she massaged her sore temple with a tired hand. It had been a very long night of restless sleep and constant worry for her patients, and it ultimately proved rather fruitless as far as her abilities were concerned.

Severus had finally fallen asleep an hour before, when his body finally gave into his crushing exhaustion. The moment she looked into the dark chamber and saw his crumpled form under barely a sheet, the old Mediwitch felt that she had been right in not giving him a potion, because the near-comatose rest he was getting now was more than any potion could have offered. He would be out for most of the day, she reckoned, for which she was quite grateful. Now she had more time to devote to Rose.

The ailing Gryffindor’s condition had not improved since the night before, and now Poppy was losing hope for a complete recovery. With the lack of oxygen that Malfoy’s curse afflicted her with, there was no telling what sort of damage was done. She knew that there was a real possibility that if Rose woke up at all, she might not be the same girl that walked into the Forbidden Forest that night, and Poppy’s heart ached. She had seen the pain in Granger’s eyes, and she heard it in Potter’s voice. She even saw it in the dismay of a certain distraught Potions master, knowing how difficult it would be for him to lose one of his favorite students. But even if the odds were not in their favor, Poppy concentrated on her duties as a Healer, and after all that Hogwarts had seen, she was determined to make this a year that did not see the loss of one more student.

She was straightening up the pillows and bed sheets of the unoccupied cots when the doors to the hospital wing flung open, crashing against the wall with a great clatter. In through the archway with dressing gown flying, Remus rushed in like a bolt of lightning. His face was sweaty, and there were very dark circles under his weary eyes, clear signs of his monthly transformation to his natural human form. But to Poppy’s utter surprise, he moved with swift dexterity, showing no obvious aches or pains in his body. He came to a skidding halt in the middle of the ward, loafers scraping on the stone floor, and he promptly hunched over to catch his much needed breath.

“I came as quick as I could!” he puffed. “Cassandra slept outside my rooms – _pant_ – she told me what happened – _pant_ – where is he?! Is he alright?!”

“Take it easy, Remus,” said Poppy, instantly flying to the wizard’s side to take his arm. “Severus is alright, he just needs lots of rest. He’s been through the ringer these last few hours, the poor dear. I was so relieved when he fell asleep. And before you ask, I checked the baby’s condition, and it is unharmed. We’re just waiting for Severus to feel the little one kicking again.”

“Right,” Remus replied as he regained control of his breathing and straitened himself out, or at least attempted to. Poppy quickly summoned him a cane for him to lean on; his body was still weak from the previous night’s transformation after all. “And the kids, what happened to them?”

“Potter and Malfoy are alright, just a few minor injuries. But Miss Beckett…” Poppy trailed off as her eyes traveled to the screen surrounding the young witch’s bed, and Remus felt a shudder work its way down his spine.

“Cassandra wasn’t kidding when she said Rose was in a bad way,” he muttered. “Do you think she’ll recover?”

“I’m afraid that remains to be seen,” explained Poppy. “She has been unconscious all night, and she has shown no improvement. Right now, it’s all a matter of waiting and praying.” At that moment, Poppy looked at the clock against the wall and remembered that Rose was due for a Nourishment Draught. Remus could also do with a Restorative Potion, judging by the state of him. Apologizing to Remus for her inadequacy, she excused herself and walked into her office to prepare the brew, leaving the werewolf professor alone with the sleeping student.

Remus swallowed hard at the wave of sympathy that washed over him. Severus had suffered through pain and despair, and Rose fought for her life. Oh, how he wished that it hadn’t been a full moon! He wouldn’t have let those bloody bastards lay one ruddy finger on his dear friend and their brave pupil. Hell, he would have torn them to shreds if he had the chance. But what’s done is done, he told himself, and he cautiously made his way to the screened-in bed.

It took all he had not to gasp when he saw the state Rose was in, pale and barely breathing. Remus could feel his blood boil when he thought of what had to have happened to this poor girl at the hands of those monsters. He felt awful that a youthful prime could have been uselessly wasted. More than that, he felt awful that Severus would be losing the glue that held him together these days. Thinking of his friend in the other room, Remus strolled up to Rose’s side, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

‘ _Come on, you’re stronger than this,_ ’ he silently spoke to his student. ‘ _You’ve got a family to think about. What’ll they do without you? You’ve surprised us enough times before, and you can do it again.’_ Not wanting to make much of his bedside vigil – and rightfully so, he imagined – Remus turned and stuck out his cane to hobble out to visit with the devastated Potions master.

But suddenly, just before he could turn the corner of the screen, he was stopped by a soft noise. It was a quiet, rattled squeak, like a mouse had just scurried through. He quickly turned his head back, not caring for the twinge of pain in his neck. His eyes widened when he saw Rose’s breast rising with the difficult breath.

Remus shouted for Poppy, calling for her to come immediately, and he threw himself to his knees beside the bed. As the elderly witch came rushing through the screen, wand in hand, Remus placed a gentle hand on Rose’s cheek. His lips curved into a smile when two blue eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Hey,” he crooned. “There’s a good girl. Welcome back, Rose.” Rose opened her mouth as though to speak, but all she could manage was another painful peep, and she instinctively focused on taking as deep a breath as she could.

“Good gracious, she’s awake!” exclaimed Poppy. “Remus, watch her for a moment. I have to go Floo Minerva’s office!” The Mediwitch was gone before any questions could be asked, and Remus heard her office door slam against the wall in her hast. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Rose.

“Re…Remus,” she croaked, her eyes glistening over.

“Yes Rose, I’m right here,” replied Remus. “Don’t speak, dear. Save your voice.”

Rose shut her eyes for a short moment, concentrating on each agonizing inhale. But it wasn’t long at all before she looked back up again with a weak, but desperate stare. “Sev…Severus…”

“He’s alright,” said Remus, stroking Rose’s ragged red hair. “He and the baby are safe. You’ll see him soon enough. Just rest yourself, everything is going to be just fine.” Remus didn’t mind the tight grip Rose held around his wrist, nor did he protest to coaching Rose in her breathing. The only thing he could care about in that moment was that Rose was alive.

Death Eaters had come to take lives, but this time, they had claimed no victims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just need to nip this little fact in the bud before I go on: Hermione calls the baby a "she", but that does not confirm the baby's gender. It's just Hermione's opinion, and a way for her to avoid calling the baby an "it", which I always thought she would have a problem with.


	73. True Loyalty

The news that Rose was awake traveled up to Gryffindor tower faster than fire in a dry forest. As the morning broke over the valley, a floating silver cat appeared in the common room, bearing the message on behalf of Minerva McGonagall. Before they even had a chance to think, Hermione scrambled off the sofa where she had spent the night with Ron and Harry, and she dashed through the portrait hole faster than a Golden Snitch. The boys were hot on her heels, and together, they flew down the steps, their socks just barely clinging to the floor. They were in the hospital wing before the rest of their house could make it down to breakfast.

Rose was being administered a series of healing potions when they arrived. Propped up by pillows in her bed, she still looked bloody awful. Her hair was a ragged mess about her neck and shoulders, and the dark marks under her eyes gave her a rather skeletal appearance. But even if she looked like she had run the around the equator three times, the greatly relieved trio could not have been happier to see her not only conscious, but also responsive. After last night, all three of them were quite sure that they had no more worry left in them for their friends. One more night like that, and they all would be committed to St. Mungo’s mental ward.

“You gave us such a fright,” Hermione gasped with a smile. “I could barely sleep, I was so worried about you!”

“Yeah, and she kept us up as well,” said Ron, offering up a little bit of humor to bring them all back down to earth. Thankfully, his companions all giggled at the idea.

“Oh guys, I don’t know what to say,” Rose rasped weakly, relaxing into her pillow.

“You shouldn’t have to say anything,” said Harry, rubbing Rose’s shoulder. And it was true. After such a long fight to breathe and more coughs than she could handle, Rose’s voice had been reduced to a quiet whisper, with anything louder coming out as a painful squeak. If the trio hadn’t shown up so quickly, she might have been on strict orders not to talk at all. But the fact remained that Rose was a girl who could not remain silent for very long, and Pomfrey knew she would have been fighting an uphill battle that would have ended with a hefty Silencing Charm. After what the poor girl had been through, the Mediwitch wanted to refrain from using magical interventions when possible.

“Seriously Rose, we’re just glad that you’ll be okay,” said Hermione. “I mean, I know what pain feels like, but I can’t imagine going through what you did last night.”

“I’ve already blocked it from my mind,” mumbled Rose. “Pity really…I would have liked to remember bits of that duel with my father.”

“Well, all that matters is that they’re all in custody, and everyone will recover,” said Harry. Rose shifted her eyes up to where he stood to her left. “It’s probably just me, but I call that a battle won.”

Rose exhaled in the place of a giggle. “You’re too much, Harry.”

“So…” Hermione started to say. “Have you heard anything about Se – about Professor Snape?”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” whispered Rose. “Remus said he’s asleep, and he will be for a while.”

“All in good time,” Ron said. He looked as though he had some kind of snappy statement to add to that, but before he could get another word in edgewise, McGonagall suddenly turned the corner from Madam Pomfrey’s office, and she started waving her arms at the group of standing Gryffindors.

“Alright, you three,” she chirped, beginning to usher them toward the door. “It’s time that you left for now. Miss Beckett needs her rest, and you all have lessons to attend.” Harry and Ron jumped in their skins a bit before shuffling off, and Hermione managed a very rushed farewell with her roommate, promising to bring her some fresh clothes and sweets when she had the chance. Rose barely moved her head as she watched her friends go. She simply followed them with her eyes until they tuckered out, and she then relaxed into the bed.

Madam Pomfrey was setting up to give Rose a second dreadful round of healing potions when the two ladies suddenly heard another abrupt conversation going on just outside the hospital wing door. Evidently, McGonagall had taken it upon herself to guard her student and her colleague until classes began, and she had stopped someone else from meandering in to look upon the invalids.

“Mister Malfoy, if you are here to see Professor Snape, I’m afraid that he won’t be seeing any visitors today. As you can imagine, he had a tough night, and he needs the day to sleep.”

“Actually,” came Draco’s voice in a low mutter. “I was hoping that I could speak with Beckett. I heard she’s awake.”

“Miss Beckett? Why do you need to speak with her?”

“I just have to say a few things to her. I’d like to keep it private, if you don’t mind.”

There was a pregnant pause in the air, time which Madam Pomfrey used to dribble a few dewdrops of a green liquid into her patient’s mouth. Soon however, there was a familiar sigh, and McGonagall replied, “Very well, but don’t take too long. She’s still in a bad way and mustn’t be under any stress.” Rose heard Draco agree, and his footsteps started down the center of the ward.

Rose looked up at Madam Pomfrey, who was also aware of the approaching wizard. The Mediwitch glanced down with an odd glimmer in her eye, but then her lips eased into a smile. “I’ll let you two have a moment alone,” she said kindly, and she turned to retreat to her office just as Draco appeared at the end of Rose’s open bed curtain. The Slytherin waited until they heard the click of the door before pulling up the visitor’s chair.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want people thinking that we’re an item, you’re not doing a very good job,” said Rose, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Honestly, right now, I could care less,” Draco commented with a weak sneer. “Merlin, you sound awful!”

“It’s just temporary.” Rose raised a bruised hand to her neck, and her fingers dusted lightly over the pale skin.

“It just doesn’t seem fair,” mumbled Draco, half to himself. “You and Severus take the brunt of all this while I walked away without a scratch. If I had known my father was there, I would have taken him on myself.”

“There wasn’t much you could do,” said Rose. “Besides, if you hadn’t gotten help, we could have died out there.”

“I still feel like I should have been there. I mean…it was my father. He raped and knocked up Severus, and he nearly killed you. I should have at least taken his focus off you guys, even if for only a second.”

“I hate to tell you this, but it would have been useless.” Rose paused for a moment to catch her breath. “Your father was out of his mind, but he still wouldn’t have hurt you. My dad dared to ask if he would, and he he…hesitated.”

Draco started to open his mouth to respond, but after the thought hit him upside the head, he swallowed his words. “If he cared about me that much, he would have given me some indication of what he was planning to do. It just shows how much times have changed, I guess. I mean, I always knew what he was doing when I was younger. What did I do that he didn’t trust me anymore?”

“You’re too close to Severus,” said Rose. Her mood suddenly darkened, rather mirroring her physical state. “What does it matter anyway?”

“Rose, what are you talking about?” asked Draco, cocking his head to the side.

“They saw us, Draco. They saw Severus and I together. Don’t pretend you don’t know; I know Harry’s told you.”

“Rose…”

“As soon as they get the chance, those bastards will tell the world that Severus Snape is shagging his student… – _pant_ – … and it’ll be over for us.”

“Rose,” Draco tried again. “You don’t have the strength for this. How long have you been worrying about that?”

“Since I got my mind back after I woke up,” Rose muttered with an attempt at a shrug in her shoulders. Draco just shook his head as he said, “Saved from the bloody grave, and you still can’t work out your priorities.”

“This is my priority,” snapped Rose. That proved to be a mistake because the ailing witch dissolved into a fit of coughing. To her surprise, Draco moved to grab the glass of water sitting on Rose’s bedside table, positioning the straw to her lips. As soon as the hacking receded, he was back in his chair. “Severus and the baby are more important than I ever will be, and I will be damned to the seventh circle of Hell before I let my relationship with him be exposed. But like I said, why should it matter? They’ll probably have Severus sacked before the day is out.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Draco, but obviously, Rose was not much in the mood for feeble comforts.

“How do you know that?” she asked nastily, or as nastily as she could with barely a voice.

“Because they’re not going to tell anyone about it. I made sure of it myself.”

The lines in Rose’s forehead suddenly relaxed, and she sank back into her pillow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s the reason why I came to talk to you,” replied Draco. “I wanted to tell you what happened after you and Severus were taken away, what I did when I got those petrified bastards alone.”

“What did you do?” asked Rose, her brow furrowing.

“At that point I did the only thing I could do,” Draco explained. “I made damn sure that no one outside these walls would hear about you and Severus. I may not be the most skilled wizard to ever live – and I don’t say that lightly – but there are some things in this world that I know I can do well. One of which is making sure a secret stays a secret.”

“Draco, what are you on about?”

“I obliviated them, Rose, all of them. They will remember the battle, and they will remember why they were there. They’ll even remember how it all ended. But when it comes to anything to do with you and Severus, what they saw, what was said, their minds have been wiped clean. Your father won’t even remember half of what went on out there.”

Rose felt a weight fall in her stomach, and she swallowed hard against her aching throat. Of all the things that she once assumed Draco Malfoy to be half-decent at, memory magic was not one of them. But then, that might well have been how he got away with trouble all those years. And what was this about using memory magic to help her? When she had agreed to a working relationship with Draco for the sake of Severus, she didn’t think that he would actually go to such lengths to keep his word. After all, Rose had very little faith in Draco. It was only because he didn’t want to upset Severus that he even spoke to her.

“You did it for Severus,” she said. It wasn’t quite a statement, and yet it wasn’t much of a question either. Either way, it wasn’t long before Draco offered his response.

“Yeah…um…I mean, well, not entirely,” he stuttered, shrugging his shoulders. “I made that promise to Severus, yes. But he wasn’t the only one on my mind when I hexed those guys. You’ve been too considerate towards me in these last few weeks for me to ignore. I especially thought so when I was staring down your father, and I really saw how different you are. I used to be one of them, Rose. I used to believe what they said, and yet I was hardly ever treated with the dignity you have shown towards me. I might be losing my mind as much as those guys have, but I felt that I should repay you for that.”

Rose smiled, her tired eyes glassing over. “I knew there was a reason why Severus loved you,” she whispered quietly. “Glad to see you’re not as mindless as we once thought.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Draco, rolling his eyes slightly. He started to rise from his chair, but something stopped him. Odd, he thought to himself. He had said what he had come to say, and he got the reaction he had been hoping for. But it seemed wrong to leave Rose alone; Draco always thought her to be such a sociable person, and Gryffindors didn’t take lightly to solitude. Deciding that he could live without breakfast for a little while longer, he settled himself back down, and he decided to tell Rose about how even more than a few of the Slytherins had it in them to regard how she took a beating for their Potions master.

**~HP~**

As she had dozed much the day away, Rose found that she had a hard time sleeping when night fell over the school. Of all times that she had to be wide awake, it had to be past curfew. Her friends had made regular visits throughout the day, but Rose was always too drowsy to be of any good company. And besides, the visits weren’t very long anyway, with Madam Pomfrey constantly shooing teenagers away, hollering about how her patient needed rest. Well, she got her rest, so what to do now? The Mediwitch had offered to give Rose a Sleeping Draught, but Rose refused it. She already felt a little ill from all the other potions that had been poured down her throat, and she never did take well to sleeping potions. In the end, Rose resigned to the reality of spending the night staring at the ceiling.

It didn’t take long for the ceiling to become the door to the private room at the end of the wing.

She hadn’t seen Severus since the attack in the forest, and though everyone told her to remain calm for her sake, she still worried herself sick about her precious Potions master. They all told her that he and his unborn baby were safe and sound, but there was no way that Rose could believe them until she saw for herself. Since regaining consciousness, Rose had a parade of faces pass by her bedside, but she never got to see the one face she really wanted and needed. He was there in spirit, and he gave her the strength to survive. But now her strength had returned, and Rose could not bear one more minute without him.

Very carefully, trying her best not to make a sound, Rose slowly eased up out of her bed, pausing on the edge of the mattress to gather her energy. She had to bite down on the insides of her cheeks to hold off the yelp that wanted to protest the intense ache throughout her body, but with a deep breath, she padded out of her privacy curtain. The wing was lit by the glow of the waning moon, and she easily found her way to where she needed to be. Resting her hand on the old door handle, Rose breathed gently through her nose. She knew he would be awake; nocturnal tendencies aside, he had spent the day much the same way she had, and unlike her, he didn’t have the luxury of sleeping potions at this stage of his pregnancy. Without a fear or hesitation, Rose gently eased the door open and took a step inside her lover’s chamber.

Just as she thought, Severus was not asleep. Leaning against the wall for what looked to be well-needed support, the tired pregnant wizard stood by the large window on the opposite wall of the room, staring up at the night sky. The moonlight illuminated his face, and Rose saw a man exhausted beyond comprehension, but too worked up to rest his body or his mind. Concern settled in her stomach like a stone, and she swallowed hard against her sore throat.

The clicking of the door handle alerted Severus to the new presence, and his head instantly whipped in that direction to stare into the darkness. But as soon as his deep, black eyes focused on the young, lithe form approaching, a sharp breath escaped his throat.

“Rose…” he muttered, slowly leaving his place at the window. His pace quickened rapidly, and within moments, he was rushing toward the young witch, gathering her up tightly in his arms, and holding her tighter than he could ever remember. His body quivered as tears forced themselves from his eyes. “Oh Rose!”

“I’m here, Sev,” whispered Rose, stroking the smooth black hair on the back of her boyfriend’s head. Her body and her heart ached for him; his emotions were too fragile for this. Forgetting her own recovery, Rose concentrated her limited energy on the comfort that Severus had likely spent hours longing for. She stifled her own emotions in her gut.

“Oh god,” she heard Severus moan into her ear. “Oh god, you’re alive! I thought I had lost you!”

“You’ll have to burn down the castle to get rid of me, love.” Rose stiffened when Severus’s sobs got harder against her shoulder, and she tried to fight off the knot in her stomach. Her eyes started to burn, forcing them to close them for the sake of her composure. “Oh Sev, please don’t do this. If you start, I’ll start, and I just haven’t got it in me.”

At her gentle words, Severus pulled away from her, sniffling as he wiped the wet trails from his cheeks. He did however keep a good grip on her shoulder as he regained his self-control. “Yes, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he breathed. Noticing the stiffness of Rose’s body, as well as the ugly marks on her arms, he suddenly started to guide his girlfriend in the direction of his bed. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour? You should be resting.”

“I had to see you,” said Rose, slipping down onto Severus’s full-sized mattress. It was much more comfortable than the one she had been made to lay on all day and night, and she fleetingly thought of how much this would help the man whilst he was giving birth. “I had to make sure that you were alright.”

“Well, as you can see, I am quite alright,” Severus replied, and he made his way back over to the window to resume his sky-gazing.

Rose’s face fell, and she shook her head. “I don’t believe you. Love, you look like absolute hell.”

“Last night was a rough one.”

“Severus, won’t you sit down?” asked Rose, patting the bed. “You should be resting too. You need to keep the pressure off of your back.”

“I’ve been in that bed all day long,” said Severus. “I need to stand for a while.” His hand came up to rest on his swollen stomach, and Rose saw how he almost seemed to grasp at his unborn child. That sinking feeling began to creep back in.

“Oh Sev, I’m so sorry,” she said. “You’ve been going through hell, and I wasn’t there to help.”

“You’re sorry?” Severus turned his face to Rose with an expression of both confusion and frustration. “You’re sorry, you nearly died last night, and you say _you’re_ sorry?!”

“I was supposed to be protecting you,” muttered Rose. Her eyes left her lover to fall to the mattress. “Say what you like, Severus, but if I had done my job properly, neither of us would be in this situation.”

“That’s a load of rubbish, Rose, and you know it,” said Severus. “Nothing could have prevented what happened out there. We had Boy-wonder with us, and it didn’t make a difference. Besides, it was you who took most of the attacks. What happened to me is irrelevant.”

“Severus, how can you say something like that?!” Rose gasped. “That was your rapist that attacked us, the man who got you pregnant in the first place. He was there specifically to come after you. I saw the look on your face when you first saw him. It was as though you had seen a force stronger and darker than even Lord Voldemort. There’s no way you can just brush all that off like it was no big deal.”

“The last time Lucius Malfoy attacked me, I had no one else to worry about,” Severus told her. “I had no time to be afraid when all I could think of was you and the baby. My concern for you was far greater than any I had for myself.”

Rose seemed to drift off for a short moment when suddenly, a thought crashed over her, and her red-streaked blue eyes popped open. “Oh Merlin, the baby wasn’t hurt, was it?!”

“They tell me that it wasn’t,” said Severus. “But none of them understand what this is like for me, to not feel the life you tried so desperately to protect.”

“So it is true,” whispered Rose, remembering the grim tales Hermione had told her earlier. She leaped forward down the bed, stretching a hand out to the Potions master. “Love, the baby will start moving again, you just need to give it some time and – _agh!_ ” Her words were cut off by a sharp pain in her back, and before she could blink, Severus was on the bed beside her, gripping her shoulder. He placed a firm, warm hand on the spot where the pain had struck, and together they rode it out. Rose was left panting deeply as she leaned her forehead on Severus’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have come to me,” said Severus, massaging his girlfriend’s back and shoulder. “I won’t have you delaying your own recovery just to make me feel better.”

“But I had to, Severus,” whimpered Rose. “You and the baby mean more to me than anything in the world. I couldn’t just sit idle when you needed me.”

“Rose…please…stop talking,” Severus pleaded. It truly was painful for him to listen to her high keening rasp with every word she forced up. Frankly, Severus was amazed that Rose even had any voice left after her ordeal. Seeing the despair in her eyes, Severus placed an apologetic kiss on Rose’s forehead, and then turned his body to face away from her. It was just too hard to look at her right now.

“I did need you, Rose. But through all the pain and misery that bastard put me through, it all paled in comparison to the thought of losing you. You have to understand, love. If it hadn’t been for you, I might not have kept my child. You were the one who made me see what having a family could be like, and you gave me something to look forward to. If I had lost you, everything would have come undone.” Behind him, he could hear Rose sniffling into her hand, but he did not turn around.

“Last night was one of the worst nights of my life. I was made to relive the rape that darkened my dreams, and I thought I had lost the family that I had worked so hard to forge and protect.”

“But you survived,” croaked Rose. “We all did. And that beast is going back to prison where he belongs.”

Severus sighed heavily. “Rose, you are wise beyond your years, but you are still very young. This is not something that we can simply move on from. Lucius Malfoy invaded my life, and he attempted to ruin it forever. He may be sent away for the rest of his life, but as long as we remember his foul deeds, he will never vanish.”

“But you can’t let him win,” Rose whispered, so softly that Severus could barely hear. “Stop dwelling on what could have been, and focus on what you have now.” Severus gripped a fist in his lap, concealing it from Rose’s sight, and he shut his eyes against the harsh emotional sting.

That’s when it happened.

Severus felt a slow wriggle inside his stomach. Then something pressed against his skin. And then there was a kick to his ribs. The air froze in Severus’s lungs, and a heavy gape pulled down his jaw. Inhaling sharply and deeply, his hand unclenched to rest against the curve of his belly, and Severus fought to hold back the tears of immense, overwhelming relief.

He felt the mattress dip behind him, and the light touch of Rose’s hand rested on his shoulder. He did not turn to her, he couldn’t speak to her. His whole being was just consumed in the small, long-delayed movements of his precious baby.

Rose said nothing to him, for she seemed to understand what was happening without words. The hand on Severus’s shoulder slipped down his arm, now mirrored on his other side. As smooth as it was soft, Rose’s arms slid around Severus’s waist, and her hands laid over the rounded bump. The baby knocked against her palms. Severus shrouded those fragile hands with his, entangling their fingers as a soft cheek rested on the back of his shoulder. He shuddered to feel the touch of her breath.

Focus on what he had now, she said. But there wasn’t much for him to focus on. He didn’t have very much in this world, just this; an unborn child, a girl, and their love. He had nearly lost everything in that struggle. And now the trouble was rebuilding the world that nearly crumbled under a devastated foundation.

**~HP~**

It was another two days before Severus and Rose were released from the hospital wing. Both of them were far from completely healed, and both of them had a fair bit of emotional troubles to work through, but they couldn’t be locked away from the world forever. They needed to get back to their lives, and they needed to move on from their harrowing experience.

The reception they received from the student body took them both by unpleasant surprise. The moment Rose walked into the Great hall for her first breakfast back, trailing behind Harry, the pair were greeted by loud, but cordial applause. Rose received a heroine’s welcome from her fellow Gryffindors, all praising her quick action and courageous deeds. They commended her for taking on a madman like Lucius Malfoy, and celebrated her victory over her father. Severus likewise was acclaimed by his loyal Slytherins, who extoled his defense of his students, and ultimately, saving the life of one. But neither wizard nor witch could take full pleasure in this. They were held in high esteem, but it came at such a personal cost to them. It was noticed by many that the Potions master and the Gryffindor Seventh year were unnaturally subdued, and nearly all of them chalked it up to trauma.

Only four other students remained decidedly silent.

**~HP~**

Rose leaned heavily against the wall, staring out of the staffroom’s tall windows. Because she was still getting a fair amount of unwanted attention from chatty underclassmen, the faculty took a few unprecedented approaches to keeping her separated from other students for the time being, which included allowing her into otherwise restricted areas. She however could not take the joy out of this small thrill that other students would give their wand for one glimpse of. She was too preoccupied with the people on broomsticks zooming through the sky over the Quidditch pitch.

“There’s nothing you can do, Rose,” she heard Severus say from the table across the room, where the remnants of their afternoon tea were laid out. “You know that it’s for your own good that you’re off the Gryffindor team for the next few weeks. You shouldn’t get too worked up over it.”

“I’ll be missing the last few matches,” said Rose. “How else am I supposed to feel when I have to sit back and watch my teammates fight for the cup?”

“Personally, I don’t see the point,” commented Severus. “With or without you, your team was likely to lose anyway.”

“Hufflepuff hasn’t won yet,” Rose replied, a weak sarcasm playing at her lips. She had tried to make the most out of this forced leave from Quidditch, but with the house finals swiftly approaching, it was difficult to feel anything other than uselessness.

Severus pushed himself to his feet, and he moved to stand on the opposite side of the window. He crossed his arms over his concealed middle, and he leaned into the wall to meet Rose’s eye. He really did sympathize with her; Gryffindors by enlarge were not good at sitting idle, and Rose was no exception. But when it came to her wellbeing, he would rather put up with her complaining than watch her health deteriorate again just so she could have a bit of fun.

“I know you hate this,” he said to her, slipping his fingers under her chin. “But it will end eventually. If I could put up with nine months of restrictions, you can survive for three or four weeks.” Rose tweaked her lips into a subtle little smile, but soon her eyes were back out the window. She let out a sigh as she watched Harry and the rest of her team flying through the sky, avoiding Bludgers and each other.

They both might have drifted off into a reverie if the staffroom door hadn’t rattled. The couple quickly flinched away from each other, and they were quite right to do so because one Cassandra Wicker strolled in, though not as haplessly as she ordinarily would. Remus followed closely behind with a solemn stare etched into his forehead.

He informed them that they were all needed in the headmaster’s office.

Severus and Rose were both silent as they followed behind the other two professors. Neither of them had the slightest idea what this was all about, which was most troubling. Even worse than that was how both Remus and Cassandra did seem to know what was going on, and how it rendered them unnaturally muted. This was not good news. The secret couple wondered if somehow their discussions had been overheard, or if someone had become suspicious of them in their time of healing. Much the way it did for their entire lives, their defensive walls went right up, and they prepared for the worst as they climbed that endless tower of stairs.

Minerva was waiting for them as they approached the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, the same expression of solemnness on her face. Without a word, she shepherded both the Potions master and his preferred student up the steps, giving them both a fair amount of distance, and allowing them to walk at their own pace. This only made Rose and Severus more nervous; if Minerva McGonagall was ever speechless, it was never a good sign. Rose swallowed hard against her still sore throat, and she blinked away the moisture in her eyes.

“Good afternoon Severus, Miss Beckett,” said Dumbledore as he held his office door open for them. Upon their entering, he gestured to the sofa in the open floor of the room, and Rose and Severus both sat down without a question from the old man. The door was then closed firmly behind all of them. Rose cleared her throat uncomfortably, prompting Cassandra to sit down beside her on the sofa and rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Perhaps you should have one of these, dear.” Dumbledore smiled gently at Rose as he held out the dish of lemon drops to her. The young witch glanced at Severus briefly, who just gave her a short nod of his head. Carefully, Rose picked out one of the small candies and popped it into her mouth.

“So headmaster, why have you called us here?” asked Severus. “I assume it is important if we had to come all the way up here.”

“Indeed it is, Severus,” said Dumbledore, sitting in a chair in front of the sofa. “And don’t fret over the formalities. It’s only Miss Beckett here.” Alright, Severus thought to himself. This had to be serious business if Albus was saying that. With the obvious exception of Potter, formalities always stood when students were present.

Rose shuffled back further into the sofa, and Severus could see that she desperately wanted to slink into his side for comfort. But since he couldn’t give her that satisfaction, he laid a comforting hand on her other shoulder, completing the sad little scene Cassandra started. He then gave her a little nod before turning his head back to Albus.

“So Remus tells us that the two of you have not been reading the papers these past few days,” the elderly headmaster said quite casually.

“No sir,” said Rose. “From what I understand, there’s been quite a lot of fuss over the attack in the forest. I personally have been trying to avoid that as best I can.”

“Very sensible of you, Miss Beckett, or Rose, I should say,” retorted Dumbledore, to which Rose feebly nodded her permission. “However, I believe you would be pleased to see the swift progress of your case.”

“Malfoy has been charged, I presume?” Severus said with a leery tone to his voice.

“Oh better than that, Severus,” said the headmaster. “Upon arrival at the Ministry, Lucius Malfoy was charged with multiple counts of aggravated assault and two counts of attempted murder. Minister Shacklebolt called an emergency council to deal with the matter. He was found guilty with an overwhelmingly unanimous vote.”

Severus swallowed hard, mulling over the question that was just hanging in the air. “How long will he be incarcerated?”

“The Ministry does not take two attempted killings very lightly, my boy. I recommended that he receive the maximum sentence for his crimes, and based on the evidence and the testimony of Harry Potter, I am pleased to say that the magistrates agreed. He will spend the remainder of his life in Azkaban, without possibility of liberation.” Dumbledore leaned forward to gently tap Severus’s knee. “He’s never getting out, Severus. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Severus looked at him for a long moment, not sure what the appropriate response should be. But when the reality of the statement set in, he managed a weak, but honest smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “But there’s more that you have to say.”

“Unfortunately Severus, I do, which brings us to you, Rose.”

Rose’s head jerked up slowly in a slight state of dazed surprise, and she mumbled, “What about me, Professor?”

“It seems that there is a bit of trouble with one of the defendant’s cases, a rather unique case I must say.” And like that, without any indication of where this was going or one clue as to who they were referring to, Rose jumped right to the obvious conclusion.

“This is about my father, isn’t it?” she said.

“Yes dear,” said McGonagall, slowly walking over to stand behind Dumbledore’s chair. “Firstly, Professor Dumbledore and I would like to offer our deepest sympathies and apologies to you. We all thought that Alistair Beckett couldn’t be any more despicable.”

“I know, and I don’t want to talk about it,” Rose said, her voice growing tense. “But what’s wrong with his case? He’s been charged too, right?”

The elderly witch nodded her head. “He was, yes, but I’m afraid that unlike the others, Mister Beckett’s case is not so clean.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harry told us what happened out in the forest,” said Remus, attracting everyone’s attention to the far side of the office. “He said that there was a moment when Malfoy commanded Alistair to kill you, but he refused to do it. Is that true?”

Rose gulped down hard, and her eyes instantly fell to her lap. Severus could sense that of all the things to do with the attack, Alistair Beckett was chief of what she wanted to talk about least. Actually, not one word of her father was spoken between them or anyone else, and Severus worried if she would be able to say anything at all. He hoped that his mercy would go unrecognized in these circumstances.

“Yes,” he said to his colleagues. “I saw the whole thing happen.”

“Sir…” came a soft voice. Severus glanced to his right and met Rose’s blue gaze. In her eyes, he saw despair, but he also saw traces of valor, valor that was weighed down by solemnity. “It’s fine, you don’t need to speak for me.” The pleading look in her face made Severus’s hand drop off her shoulder, and he sighed quietly. Rose then turned to Minerva and Albus with a deep breath of her own.

“He was…he was going to do it. I mean, he turned to me like he was. He pointed the wand at me…but he hesitated at the last minute.”

“What did he say?” asked McGonagall.

“He said that he couldn’t do it,” whispered Rose. “He said that he couldn’t kill his child.”

“And that is what surprises us,” mused Dumbledore, stroking his chin through his beard.

“Headmaster,” Severus suddenly objected. “We are all aware of the circumstances that have led us here, but I fail to see what the importance of it is now. Alistair Beckett incriminated himself enough for another prison sentence, perhaps a longer one this time. In light of recent events, I believe it would be prudent to spare Rose from these proceedings.”

“Ordinarily, we would agree with you, Severus,” said McGonagall. “But as Albus said, this is a unique case.”

“Care to explain?”

“Professor, will you just shut up?” gasped Rose, the silence it caused sucking the air out of the room. The upset young witch looked up at the gaping look on her Head of House’s face. “I’m sorry…I am so sorry.”

“That’s alright, dear,” said Cassandra, rubbing her student’s shoulder. “We cannot blame you for being upset.”

“Yes, indeed,” nodded McGonagall. “In any case, the reason why we bring this to your attention, Rose, is because this meeting could determine the ultimate outcome.”

“How?” asked Rose.

“Alistair Beckett will stand trial in three days’ time,” Dumbledore explained calmly. “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have both agreed to travel to London to testify before the court. However, it is believed by some that the best testament is that of close family relations.”

Rose’s head snapped up with almost painful speed and her lips parted to let out a disturbingly hitched breath. “You want me to testify against my father?”

“Not necessarily,” said Dumbledore, folding his hands together except for his pointed index fingers.

“What are you on about, Headmaster?” Severus snarled. “The bastard takes part in an attack that nearly takes the lives of four people, and he does a significant amount of harm to his own daughter. What do you expect her to do if not testify against him?”

“Let me make my point, Severus.” The headmaster rose from his chair and began to slowly stroll about the room. “All we are asking for Rose to do is to be honest. This is her father we are dealing with, and therefore, it is her decision what to tell the court.”

“Professor Dumbledore, you’ve seen how my father and I react to each other,” Rose murmured. “And what happened the other night was the final nail in the coffin. I don’t want anything more to do with him.”

“Then why not get the better of him, once and for all?” said Remus. “Think about it, Rose. If you look at it the right way, this was attempted murder. At the very least, it was conspiracy with intent. You could put him away for a long, long time.”

“You say that like it’s so simple!” Rose leapt off the sofa with a distraught cry, and she dashed over to a far off window at the other end of the office. Severus moved to rush after, but Cassandra quickly had a hold on his sleeve, and she whispered under her breath, “No, no, let her go.”

“It is always difficult to put a family member behind bars,” said Dumbledore. To those who understood, the gravity of his tone was gravely ominous. And yet there was still an air of grandfatherly comfort, only put on for the sake of his young pupil. “But in many cases, I find that everyone is better off in the end.”

“I could say what you want me to say, but that doesn’t change what happened.” Rose turned to the group of teachers, and their hearts dropped to see the tears already brimming in her eyes.  “Professor Dumbledore wants me to be honest. Well the honest truth is that he was told to kill me, and he wouldn’t do it.”

“After all this time, he finally treated you as he should have,” said Severus, finishing the thought for Rose. He knew it was there on the tip of her tongue, but she needed a little coaxing to actually spit it out. However, what he thought was being helpful did not sit the same way with his fellow professors.

“Severus, please,” McGonagall scolded quietly. “This is not the time to be making assumptions like that.”

Crestfallen, Severus’s face fell into a dark frown. “I was only just –,”

“It is not your place to speak on her behalf, Severus, and especially so on such personal matters.”

“No, he’s right,” croaked Rose. “The man…my father, he makes no secret of how he disapproves of me. You’ve all seen it for yourselves. He even said it out there that he regrets everything that led up to my birth. But why after all that, when he had the chance to right his wrongs for good, why couldn’t he do it? Why did me being his daughter not matter until then?”

“Sometimes it takes the worst situations for people to work out their priorities,” Cassandra offered up, and Remus agreed with a short nod. “And though we all have our doubts, it could be that Mister Beckett has some sort of moral complex.”

“Bollocks, the man is a coward,” Severus snarled through his teeth. His hands gripped his knees so tightly that his knuckles paled. “I know for a fact that Alistair Beckett has never claimed a life in all the years he had associated with the Death Eaters. He never became one partially for that reason.”

“Could be,” mused Remus. “Though, we can’t say why Voldemort didn’t trust him. Perhaps he could sense that he didn’t have the heart to kill.”

“It’s nothing that I haven’t heard before,” said Rose. She leaned on the windowsill, wiping away her tears to stare out across the school grounds. “But you’re all missing the point. If hated me so much, regretted my very existence, he would have had no problems killing me. He denounced that I was ever his child, and yet for that very reason, he spared my life!”

“And now you feel conflicted,” Remus spoke the conclusion just as everyone else in the room arrived at it themselves. Rose nodded and she clenched her eyes shut, squeezing hot tears out to trickle down her cheek.

“Oh sweetheart,” crooned Cassandra, rising from the couch and dashing over to lead Rose back. The Gryffindor’s body was as stiff as a board as she sat down on the plush cushions, only for it to end up folding in on itself, only supported by her elbows and forearms. Tears still brewing in blue, Rose bit down on her bottom lip, and she shuddered when she felt Severus’s hand slip around her neck and shoulders.

“You don’t have to do this, Rose,” said the grim Potions master, swallowing his own emotions. He knew that the others would blame it on his pregnancy; his moods were delicate enough without such taxing matters, and they had come to expect it after seven months. But Rose was walking a thin line, and he needed to stay strong for her.

“Severus is right,” Remus agreed. “With Harry and Draco, her testimony isn’t even all that necessary.”

“It would still make a big impression,” McGonagall reminded them. “Perhaps she can make her case through a written affidavit, and have it read before the court. That way she can still have her voice heard without the trouble of facing the accused.”

“I don’t even know if I can do that!” Rose wailed. “He does probably the kindest thing he ever will do to me, and I’m supposed to send him to prison for that? I’m not that heartless, even if it is him. I won’t sink to his level, I won’t!” She crumbled into a fit of hard sobs, and she leaned in the direction of Severus’s torso. Severus looked to Dumbledore pleadingly, and thankfully, the older wizard understood what he was trying to ask. He gave them a gentle nod, and Severus tugged Rose closer, cradling her as she cried into his chest.

Dumbledore let this go on for a few moments before speaking again. “This is all up to you, Rose,” he said calmly as Rose peeked out from behind Severus’s black robes. “No one is demanding that you send your father back to prison, especially if it means going against your own convictions. I said before that I would like you to give your honest opinion, and I mean that in every possible way. You can tell the court to lock him up for life, or you can make a plea for clemency. You can do it in person, or you can have someone else represent you. Whatever option you decide to go with, the choice is still yours.”

Clinging to Severus as though her life depended on it, Rose felt like she would implode under this pressure. Never before had she been faced with such a dilemma, been torn in so many different directions, and all for one worthless sod. Her father had paid her respect in that forest clearing, respect that she never thought she would receive. For one fraction of a second, Rose actually felt like Alistair was her father. And now, she felt that sending him back to jail would be a betrayal.

It never should have come to this. No child should ever have to be put in such a difficult place, to risk your honor and every feeling you had for the loyalty of family, all for a feeble chance at a life free of that debilitating sorrow.

Could she betray him? Could she betray the man whose blunders and failures had ultimately saved her life? Would it be better for them to be separated by thick prison walls and a vast sea?

Could she swallow her pride and repay him for his one fatherly deed? Could she buy his freedom and then just let him go, never to be seen again?

Either way, could she move on without Alistair Phineas Beckett in her life?

Severus carefully adjusted his grasp on Rose’s body, allowing him to reach into his breast pocket for his white handkerchief, and he handed it to Rose. Like she had done in her grief for Dante Macleod, Rose buried her face in the smothering cloth, and she breathed deep, labored breaths. She did not move from her Potions master’s arms for quite some time, resting against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart. Finally, just when they began to worry for her mental stability, Rose took in a great gasp of air, and she emerged from the folds of Severus’s robes.

“Do you know what you would like to do, dear?” asked Dumbledore. All that Rose managed was a short, quaking nod.

**~HP~**

Still an immense presence despite his age, Albus Dumbledore stood before the grim faces that made up the Wizengamot, his back straight, and his hand held the roll of parchment steadily. He paced slowly before the rows of seats, but he paid no attention to the wizard sitting in the middle of the floor. His voice echoed off the walls with barely any effort, and it held the attention of everyone in the room.

“Here follows the sworn testimony of Miss Rosella Elizabeth Beckett, taken on the twenty-seventh of March, 1999, and signed in the presence of Professors Minerva McGonagall and Cassandra Wicker.

_Witches and Wizards of the court,_

_It is with tremendous heartache that I say these words to you. I regret that I was not able to make the journey to London, but in light of the events that have brought us here, it was just too much for me. I cannot bear to be in the same room as the accused, and I have been through quite a lot in the days following the incident in question. Therefore it was my decision that I stay as far away from him as possible. That being said, in stable health and of sound mind, I offer my true and honest testament._

_Alistair Beckett was the worst father a girl could ask for. From the day I was born, he disregarded me as his only child and rightful heir, and he abandoned me before I ever had the chance to really know him. As a child born of a Muggle, I was worthless in his eye, and he did not keep this a secret from me. Though he made sure that I was provided for in his absence, he did not give me the love and support that a child needs from their parent. He looked down on me, treated me like I was below him, and for no other reason than my status as a half-blooded witch. He did nothing to help me during the Great War against He-who-must-not-be-named, leaving me to die behind the walls of Hogwarts School. He blatantly humiliated me in front of my peers. And on the night of March the twenty-first in Hogwarts’ Forbidden Forest, under the orders of Lucius Malfoy, he challenged me to a duel that nearly cost me my life. For the first time in my life, I saw my father for what he always wanted to be, and that was a right and proper Death Eater._

_I cannot say what exactly my father has been making of himself since his recent release from Azkaban. I do not know what dark errands he has been running on Malfoy’s behalf, and I have no knowledge of any dark magic he might have performed aside from what I saw. But on the aforementioned night, he did something that I never would have expected of him, something that I never saw coming. When commanded by Malfoy to perform the Killing Curse on me, he refused to do it. His reasoning at the time was that I was his daughter, and therefore his blood. He then unknowingly provided us with the proper distraction that gave myself and my companions the time we needed to regroup before help arrived._

_When faced with the dilemma of testifying against my father, I had a great many things to think about. My relationship with Mister Beckett had broken down long before any of this happened, and I was content to go the rest of my days without ever speaking him again. There was no way I would ever want him to be in my life after what he had done to me, particularly after this past year. However I cannot ignore what he did for me in that forest. I know that in the past, he has haplessly threatened to destroy the short life he built in the Muggle world. But when he had his chance, his one opportunity to right his apparent wrongs, he did not. Not only that, but he also refused to do it before one of the most powerful Death Eaters still living. He put himself in the line of fire. And for that, I must admit my respect._

_I have no relationship with my father, but I cannot make him pay for doing the rightful thing for once in his life, and the only time in mine. If it was not for him, I would not be living now. And therefore, I cannot possibly suggest nor demand that he be returned to Azkaban. In fact, if it were my decision, I would say that he did not deserve it. His actions in the forest stood out more than anything else I have witnessed him to do. However, I realize that his fate is out of my hands, and I leave the final decision in your good hands. I only ask that you take my words to heart when deciding his sentence. A life can be altered by one choice, and a plethora of wrongs can be made right by one action._

_I remain, gentlepeople, your loyal servant,_

_Rosella Elizabeth Beckett_ …”

**~HP~**

Far away from London, in the dark confines of Severus’s quarters, Rose lay exhausted in a crumpled heap in her lover’s arms, and Severus held her close, whispering quiet comforts and pressing soft kisses to red hair.


	74. Gravest Mistake

Just as Dumbledore had predicted, Rose’s testimony proved to be highly influential in the trial of Alistair Beckett. To have the sworn word of a defendant’s daughter was heavy enough on the minds of the court, but it was something else entirely when that same word condemned the accused, and yet made a plea for their mercy. This really was a rather unique case, and not even Minister Shacklebolt had seen anything like it in all his years of service to the Wizarding world. The Wizengamot debated for hours, going over every last scrap of evidence, and rereading each affidavit given to them. In the end, it was a difficult choice, and some would not sleep well that night. But it was also what they realized to be the right thing for them to do, the same thing that Rose struggled with when writing her statement.

While the rest of Lucius Malfoy’s little gang would rot behind the walls of Azkaban for what remained of their lives, Alistair Beckett was acquitted on his two counts of attempted murder, and he was sentenced to three months of house arrest for the assault charges. His previous probation was also extended, and it would follow him for the next ten years. But by the summer, he would be free to roam the country as he pleased.

Rose did not receive a thank-you for her contribution to his clemency.

**~HP~**

A dark cloud seemed to hang over Rose’s head in the days following her father’s release. While she had been hailed as a heroine for her defense of Severus, she was now being commended for her strength of heart and strong conviction. But though the applause and acclaim echoed through the halls and filled Gryffindor tower, Rose blocked herself off from all of it. Her whole life, she had strived to do the right thing, and never had she imagined that one choice could make her so miserable. She still wondered if she was right to say those things, if her father’s freedom would be better in the long run. She already knew it would not change his feelings toward her, and it was heavy on the witch’s healing heart.

But the time for regret and self-loathing had long passed.

Since the attack, Severus’s pregnancy had been at the forefront of everyone’s minds. At seven and a half months along, the Potions master had been all but labeled a ticking time bomb. The contractions that he had experienced after the skirmish with Malfoy were only the beginning of their close calls, if Poppy was to be believed. From now on, everyone who knew of Severus’s delicate condition had to keep an eye out for any signs of discomfort, anything that might signal premature labour. They had also been advised to keep their environments as stress-free as possible, even if that was easier said than done. But it was a worthy cause. The attack had been a harsh reminder of how close Severus was to giving birth, and now everyone was fiercely determined to see him through to that day.

It was also all that Rose had left to look forward to.

**~HP~**

Severus and Rose were quiet as they sat in the Potions classroom together. The couple had decided to take lunch away from the Great hall, since neither of them were in much mood for socializing. They had already had their fill of praise for their actions in the forest, and a week and a half out, they were ready for it all to end.

“They keep telling me how honorable I am,” Rose muttered in between mouthfuls of roast chicken. “Put themselves in my place, and I bet they won’t be so quick to praise.”

“Now you know how I felt last summer,” said Severus, pushing away his own empty plate. He was trying his best to make the most of the situation in an attempt to lighten Rose’s mood, but he found that this was not something she would easily overcome. He knew that she would eventually see the closure that Alistair’s acquittal had brought. She just had to climb a few peaks to get there.

“Lavender keeps asking me if I’ll ever talk to him again.” Rose pushed the remains of her meal away to the edge of the desk she was sitting on top of, not much appetite left. “I still don’t know how many times she has to hear the word no before it sinks in.”

“It will pass, love. Those dunderheads will eventually see that your story isn’t as sensational as they have made it out to be. If they can allow Potter to get on with his life, then they will do the same for you.” Severus gave Rose a short nod before pushing himself up out of his desk chair. He pressed a hand to his back to help support the weight of his belly in front. “If you’re finished, you could get a start on those work stations.”

“Oh, so this is detention now?” asked Rose as she slid off the surface of the desk.

“Well, you need a believable excuse to be down here at this hour,” Severus explained, cocking his eyebrow sardonically. “Come now, Rose, don’t tell me you don’t miss the good old days. And I’m in a delicate condition, remember?”

Rose caught the laugh in her throat. “You pitiful sod, you’ve got a wand! Do it yourself!” Just to seal her little cheek, Rose leaned across Severus’s desk for a kiss. The Potions master was all too happy to oblige.

Rose was about to slip into Severus’s office to retrieve another jar of Dittany for Severus’s next class when she suddenly heard a sharp gasp. Spinning on her heels, she turned back to her pregnant lover on the opposite side of the room. Severus was suddenly hunched over, gripping the edge of a desk, and gritting his teeth. His face was contorted with pain, and Rose’s heart froze. The jar in her hands dropped to the floor with a great crash, and she flew across the floor to the ailing man’s side.

“Sev, what’s wrong?!” she gasped hurriedly. She didn’t even give Severus a chance to answer before her hands were on him, checking him over with barely a glance. “Where does it hurt? Does it feel like a contraction?”

“No,” Severus grunted through his teeth. “It’s…it’s lower.” He planted a hand on his side, just beneath the base of his stomach. It took all of a few seconds for Rose to figure out that he was trying to tell her that it was his pelvis, and once again, Severus’s gender threatened to send her into a panic. She had imagined a great many things that could go wrong with a pregnant man, and a broken pelvis definitely counted as a major emergency. Fear exploded in Rose’s chest when she saw visions of Severus crippled for life.

Completely forgetting that her body was still healing from her injuries, Rose grabbed Severus’s arm and slung it over her shoulder. “Can you walk?” she asked, and Severus nodded as he straightened his back. “Come on, we’re going to the hospital wing.”

“Rose…” Severus muttered, gripping the hand that held his at his girlfriend’s chest.

“It’ll be alright, love,” Rose reassured Severus with a soft hand down his jawline. She fished her wand out of her robe, and she very hastily cast a Glamour Charm over Severus’s swollen abdomen. “I’ll get you there. We’ll take the eastern corridor stairs. Not many people take that one.”  Rose then started to lead Severus toward the door. Severus tried to warn Rose about supporting his weight on her mending back, but the flustered witch just ignored him. Rose was already on autopilot, and all her instincts were driving her to get him out of there. All Severus could do was attempt to hold up his own body so as not to hurt her, but the cracking pains in his hips only sought to push him further into her side as they made their way to the hidden stairs in the far, much forgotten corner of the dungeons.

**~HP~**

Poppy had been taking a cup of tea at her desk when she heard the door to the hospital wing creak open. She initially didn’t think too much of it, but that was only until she heard the grunts of a couple under some strain. Upon realizing who some of those noises belonged to, her cup and saucer went flying to the floor, and Poppy dashed out of her office to meet Rose and Severus in the middle of the ward.

“Good heavens! Severus, what’s wrong?!” she gasped as she took hold of the Potions master’s arm.

“He’s in pain!” grunted Rose. “It started down in the dungeons, and it’s been coming and going all the way up here. Please, he needs help!”

Poppy didn’t need to be told what to do, for her medical and maternal instincts had already kicked in. Making sure that Severus was stable on his feet, she carefully pried the ailing man’s arm off of Rose’s shoulder, and she started to lead him over to his private chamber. Behind them, she could hear the poor Beckett girl gasping for air, causing her to look back and see how she was hunched over, clutching her chest. Poppy knew that Rose would need some tending to, but right now, Severus and the baby were in need of more urgent care.

Kicking the door closed behind them, Poppy gently guided Severus over to the bed, and he very nearly collapsed onto the mattress. He instinctively rolled onto his back, now breathing as deeply as he could. Poppy was at his side instantly, and she just about ripped her wand from her robes.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Severus,” said Poppy, her tone hard with seriousness. A flick of her wand did away with Severus’s Glamour Charm. “Where does it hurt?”

“It hurts, Poppy,” Severus panted, keeping control of his breath. His hand came up from the side of the bed, and he pressed it to his lower abdomen, along his hipline. “Here…”

Poppy’s brow wrinkled with concern, and the tip of her wand started floating over Severus’s body. To her surprise, the baby was showing no obvious signs of distress. In fact, the little one was quite happily nestled in its father’s belly, with nothing that sought to force it out into the outside world. Alright, so it wasn’t contractions that Severus was feeling. But he was definitely in some visible pain, so what was causing it? A few minutes and several charms later, the Mediwitch sighed her relief when she found the answer they were all looking for.

“It’s alright, Severus,” she calmly told the tense wizard, resting her hand on his arm. “You have nothing to worry about. These pains will pass.”

“But what is it?” asked Severus. “They’re not contractions, but they keep on coming, and they fucking hurt. I could barely walk down in my classroom.”

“I understand, dear, but I want you to relax. This is normal.” Severus looked up at Poppy as though she had sprouted a second head, and the Mediwitch offered a warm smile. She sat down on the edge of the bed and laid her hand on Severus’s impressive bump. “What is happening is that your body is beginning to prepare for your baby’s birth. You remember how I told you that the _Conceptus Masculinus_ Spell causes the body to adapt, and it is usually around this time in a male pregnancy that it begins to make those necessary changes. The pains you are feeling now are actually because your hips are widening, slowly but surely, which will give the baby just enough room to squeeze through your pelvis when you are ready to deliver.”

Severus, while relieved that he was not going into premature labour, could not help but feel unsettled by the images that Poppy’s explanation produced. He swallowed slightly, suddenly feeling the warmth of embarrassment creeping over him. His eyes nearly diverted to the floor before he forced himself to look Poppy in the eye. “So, this is really how it’s going to be, isn’t it?” he muttered. “This baby is really going to be born naturally.”

“With the right amount of luck, it will,” said Poppy. “Severus, I know what’s going through your mind right now, but I assure you, a natural birth is the better option for us. When I was young and in training, we were always told that caesarean sections should be performed only when absolutely necessary, and at this time, I see nothing that would prevent you from attempting a natural birth.”

Severus grumbled in his throat. “As if I haven’t lost enough of my masculinity in the last seven months.”

“Now Severus,” Poppy chided. “I have never known you to turn down a challenge. Just think of what you will be getting at the end of this one. Once you are holding your little baby, everything else will be meaningless.” Severus just let out a low breath. He thought of Rose outside the room, and he felt a little ill when he thought of how she would react to this little gem. She had stuck by him through a lot of embarrassing parts of pregnancy, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. If the idea of actually pushing his baby out was horrifying for him, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to the girl who slept with him every night.

Good lord, he could see her face already!

Poppy tucked her wand back into her robes, and she offered a hand to help Severus back up until he was seated comfortably on the edge of the bed. She then crossed the room to fish a small bottle out of a drawer. “Now, these pains should last for a few days as your bones reform. So you don’t have any discomfort, I want you to take this pain potion, one dose every eight hours as needed.” She handed Severus the bottle, and Severus promptly swallowed a small mouthful. “We’re getting towards the end now, dear. Now that your pelvis is opening, I want you to start watching out for the birth canal. It usually forms within one to two weeks before the onset of labour. And don’t worry, Severus, I see that look in your eye. It is only temporary. It will close back up a few days after the baby is born.”

“What an immeasurable relief,” said Severus, rolling his eyes in sarcasm. “I suppose next you’re going to begin lecturing me on the benefits of breastfeeding.” Poppy just laughed at that. Not wanting to further annoy the Potions master, she quickly informed him that that was at least one thing he wouldn’t have to worry about with this pregnancy, and Severus had to admit his appreciation for this.

The two of them walked back out into the open ward together, where they found Rose hunched over slightly on one of the beds. No doubt, she was regretting that labored trek up four floors, if the look on her face was anything to go by. Without a word, Poppy summoned another dose of pain potion, and she handed it to the younger witch, bidding her to drink.

“You know dear,” said the Mediwitch. “You shouldn’t have done that so soon after your ordeal. Your body won’t be completely healed for some time still, and I won’t have you putting yourself under undue pressure.”

“Begging your pardon, Madam, but my wellbeing doesn’t matter,” said Rose, handing back the empty bottle. She let her eyes drift over to where Severus stood, and her face softened to see his hand resting protectively on his belly. “Disabled though I may be, I still have a job to do.”

“Well, that was noble of you, Miss Beckett. Professor Snape is lucky to have a student like you. However, I don’t want you pulling any more stunts like that for the time being. I took you off of the Gryffindor team, and I can take you off of watch duty too.”

Rose held onto a very firm control of her eyes, not wanting to show even the slightest reaction to that. That threat might as well have been on her life, it hit her so hard. Being taken her off of Severus’s labour patrol would likely mean an extended separation from the pregnant man, and at this time after such grave circumstances, Rose’s maternal instincts would not allow that in any way.

“I promise you, this won’t happen again,” she replied softly. “I suppose we’d all be better off if I just ran for help.”

“I won’t even have that for a couple of weeks,” replied Poppy, though not without a cheeky little nod to soften her demand. All she really wanted was for Rose to look after herself, and not to push her limits. She shot a quick glance back at Severus, and a knowing smile creped across her face. Somehow, she could sense that if she couldn’t drill these orders through Rose’s thick Gryffindor skull, Severus would do it with great ease.

He really was lucky to have a student who cared so much for him. They were lucky to have each other, frankly. Everyone needed someone else to look out for them from time to time. Though Poppy would never admit it out loud, to Severus or to anyone else, she felt that his ever-burgeoning friendship with the young Miss Beckett had not only made him a better father-in-waiting, but also the beginnings of a better man on a whole.

As they turned to leave the hospital wing, Poppy noticed out of the corner of her eye how Severus gently rested his hand on Rose’s shoulder. At his touch, the young witch looked up at him, and any concern that remained in her eyes melted away. The old woman could clearly see that Rose knew everything would be alright, and despite her battle injuries, she walked with a new skip. Severus stood in the doorway as the bell rang through the castle, advising her to go about her business. But once she had vanished down the hall, he turned back to the dungeons with the subtlest of smirks.

Oh yes, Poppy thought to herself. That man was definitely on the right path to amiability.

**~HP~**

Wearing cotton shorts and a loose tee, Rose slouched back into Severus’s bed, using her legs as a reading stand for her most recent edition of _Witch Weekly._ Her neck and shoulders ached, forcing to shift against her pillows. It had seemed to be one of those days for her, with long hours and physical aches combining to cause some frankly unneeded irritation. She could not have been gladder when she finally stumbled into her secret lover’s quarters to turn in for the night, where both a pain potion and a warm embrace waited for her.

She had only been alone a few moments when she heard the bathroom door open sluggishly. Blue eyes shadowing an impish smirk, Rose looked over to watch Severus saunter on back into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him. The pregnant Potions master looked more exhausted than his young lover, already in his oversized nightshirt and dressing gown despite the early evening hour. A hand firmly planted on his back, he carefully made his way to his side of the bed and moved to ease his heavy body down onto the mattress.

“I don’t even know why I’m coming out here, I’ll only have to go back in a few minutes,” he grunted softly. As his head hit the pillow, he laid a hand over the curve of his belly. “Oh Rose, I’m starting to think that I will be doomed to spend the rest of my life in that bathroom.”

“Aw, don’t be silly,” Rose gently laughed. She leaned over slightly to place a kiss on a pale cheek. “You can’t help that the baby is pushing on your bladder. And it won’t be that much longer.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” said Severus. “It’s not you carrying around twenty extra pounds and running to the loo six times a night.”

“It could have been.” Rose tossed her magazine to the side, and she turned over onto her side to lean into Severus. “I could have gotten knocked up accidently. Hell, I might have already if I didn’t take that contraceptive potion every month."

Severus could barely control the roll in his dark eyes at that cheeky little reminder. “You know love, that’s not exactly doing anything for me.”

“I’m just trying to find the humor in these things, Sev,” said Rose. She lifted a soft white finger to stroke her lover’s face. Severus only rolled his eyes again. “As if there is any humor in this. Rose, I have become what I always feared. I’m a swollen, emotional mess, and I’ve lost control of my own body. And to top all of that off, now I get to look forward to obtaining a tiny orifice in the most ungodly of places that my child will eventually tear its way out of.”

“Geez, you’re still taking that pretty hard, aren’t you?” remarked Rose, leaning for another kiss. “Look Severus, I told you before. You having a birth canal makes no difference to me. The baby’s got to come out somehow. Even with that, you’ll still be the man that I know and love. Besides, it’s not exactly like I can do anything to you like that. We do some kinky things, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Argh, why must you –?” Severus’s brow wrinkled in a weak disgust that had been the nature of his mood for much of that day. His body then involuntarily shuddered. “Birth canal…of all bloody things in this magical world. How…how do women tolerate them?”

“We’re born with them,” Rose cheeked, and the couple chuckled together, softer than the wind. Rose crept closer and draped her arm around Severus’s torso, snuggling the side of her face into his chest. The Potions master hummed in his throat to feel her close warmth.

“Rosie, you never cease to amaze me with how well you have taken all of this. A woman in your position should never be able to take so lightly to a male pregnancy.”

“I still don’t know why you keep assuming it’ll bother me. The way I look at it, I’m just getting the one up on other people. I’ve always wanted to have my own kids one day, and I’ll be more ready for it when that day comes because of you. I’m not even out of school, and yet I’ve seen a pregnancy almost to full term. Frankly love, watching you have this baby makes me want to have kids more. And don’t you fret so much about me. If you ask me, you ought to be thinking of how you have an advantage over husbands everywhere.”

“Oh really, how so?”

Rose grinned. “For as long as there has been birth, there have been laboring women shouting at their partners that they don’t know how it all feels. You however will never ever hear that because you do know how it feels.” She gently flicked Severus’s chin, and the pregnant wizard brought her up to catch her lips with his. “When we have kids of our own one day, you can shove that right back in my face.”

Severus cocked his brow slightly, a smirk playing at his lips. “You don’t say. Sounds to me that you have your heart set on having your own children, and more than one at that.”

“I’m an only child, Severus. Since I never had brothers or sisters, I always fancied the idea of having a larger brood.” Rose smoothed her hand over the curve of her lover’s bump. “Don’t you think it would be nice if this little one had someone to grow up with? It has to be better than what we had.”

As she let herself relax back down, Severus held Rose close, at last taking some comfort in her twisted little view of their world. He might not have been entirely convinced of her total indifference to his condition (as she said, she did have a limit), but it felt good to know she would still be there for him. And the fact that he inspired her own dreams of a family made his heart soar.

The future once again worked its strange magic on the Potions master.

“Do you really think we could have that one day?” he asked, rubbing his girlfriend’s arm. “My first might not even be born yet, but I don’t oppose the thought of having a family with you.”

“What are you talking about, Sev? Of course, I do,” said Rose. “Didn’t you say that you wanted me in this baby’s life? Come to think of it, it was you who said that no one but me could be their mother.”

“You were practically on your death bed when I said that,” admitted Severus, though he regretted it as soon as Rose glared upwards at him and said, “So you’re taking it back now?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m sorry Rosie, but I have never seen someone of your age as certain about their private life as you. Only a few months into a relationship, and you are already thinking about a future family. You shouldn’t have such big plans when you are barely nineteen.”

“Most people haven’t had my experiences,” Rose muttered into the cloth of Severus’s nightshirt. “Severus, we might have only been together for five months, but you have been in my life for eight years. You were there even when you didn’t spare me a passing glance. Now I can’t see a future without you in it. I can’t picture anyone but you being the father of my children. I _wouldn’t_ have anyone else father my children. I’ve already found a wonderful man, and an astounding wizard. Why would I bother looking anywhere else?”

“But you cannot predict what time will bring,” Severus reminded her. “You say that you still want to be with me after you leave school?”

“Once this year is out, I’ll be yours,” said Rose.

“I don’t want to make any assumptions, but the fact remains. I haven’t yet had my first child, and you’re already talking about more. What if I decide that one child is all I can handle?”

Rose smiled. “Then we’ll raise one child together. Honestly, I’ve just about had it with these theories and excuses. Love, relationships are about commitment and compromises. And if it means a commitment to you, then I am more than willing to compromise.”

Severus fell silent, caressing the sides of Rose’s face with pale fingertips, gazing into those deep wells of blue. In those eyes, there lay an entire universe of possibility, one that only the young could unearth. To Severus, aged and jaded, it felt odd to be so hopeful. And yet, this was what he had always wanted from their life and love. Doubt settled deep into his stomach, but after so many nights of letting it consume him, Severus allowed himself to be swept over with Rose’s faith and courage.

“You can really see yourself with me for that long?”

“I can see myself with you forever,” whispered Rose, her lips dusting his softer than a breath of wind. “There’s no one else for me, Severus…I’m sure of it. All these years, I was meant only for you, and you for me. And for no one else would I come within an inch of death. I see us raising this baby, and I see us getting married one day.” The warm silver of Rose’s promise ring touched Severus’s skin, and he reached up to grasp the lithe little hand.

“You would make such a commitment?” he asked softly.

“At this moment, I don’t see a reason why not,” replied Rose. “As you said, we cannot predict what the future will actually bring. But if we continue on as we have, we’re limitless. I ask you, love…is that not something you desire?”

Severus couldn’t speak through the emotion that welled up inside him. Rose’s waxing romanticisms never failed to bowl him over, no matter how often he heard them. Youth was such a beautiful thing, and it only made his love stronger. And it was there that Severus realized what he had, who he held in the palm of his hand. He was laying with the love of his life, and he could be laying with his once and future wife.

He brought Rose up to devour her in a deep kiss.

Hungry for passion she had once thought she would never feel again, Rose threw herself into the snog, practically gnawing at Severus’s tongue and lips. The tips of her fingers dug into his shoulder, and she shifted until she was up on her knees over him. Severus inched up the bed to rest slightly against the headboard. He didn’t once stop to break the kiss, nor did he try and stop Rose from swinging her leg over his lower body. She gently ran a hand across his belly, stirring a little turn from the child within. Once they were both at their breaking point, they eased down onto their sides, and Rose wrapped her leg around Severus’s hips to hold herself in position. Severus could feel his thrusts coming before Rose even had a chance to dispose of their undergarments.

So this was how it felt. This was how it felt to live a complete life.

His entire life, Severus had never felt so utterly whole. He longed for so much, too much he often thought. He watched others enjoy the pleasures he wanted so desperately, and he loathed them all for it. Self-condemned to loneliness and solitude, he had resigned to his ultimate fate only to be given a second chance that not even the greatest power could grant. Severus never considered himself worthy of blessings, and yet it was just that that brought him his unborn child and led him into Rose’s warm embrace. Severus had always been thankful for these last few months, but now that he and Rose had seen the worst, now that he knew she would be there always, he actually believed his own silly sentiments.

Above his head, Rose gripped the headboard tightly, and she moaned out her desire for Severus. Breathing deeply, the Potions master moved in sync to the rocking of Rose’s hips, grunting through his teeth with each motion. He focused on his reality, his incredible, thrilling reality. Paradise is found, he thought breathlessly. This was all he wanted, right in his grasp. Years of turmoil had brought him here. At long last, there was something real to fill that fantastical emptiness in his soul that could have only been meant for –

“Lily…!”

Like a car slamming on its breaks, the motions suddenly stopped.

Severus’s eyes burst open with a great gasp; he might not have realized that he had actually spoken if not for the need for breath. Gaping mouth and trembling chin, Severus looked up at Rose, who sat frozen over him, and the weight of a boulder fell on his chest to see the look on her face. Lines formed around her round eyes, and her jaw seemed to be clamped shut. And already, the glimmer of impending tears was gathering in that stare.

“What did you just say?” she whispered, throat constricting against her vocal cords. For a split second, Severus was almost speechless, his voice coming in incoherent mutters before he found the words. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You just called me Lily!” Rose gasped exasperatedly.

“Rose, it was nothing,” rambled Severus, bring up desperate hands. “It was my mistake.” Severus was interrupted by his own grunt as Rose scrambled to dismount his laden hips. Her pants increasing rapidly, the young unsettled witch threw herself from the bed, turning back to Severus on a dime the moment her feet hit the floor.

“What the hell was that, Severus?” she snarled. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“Rose, please,” begged Severus. “It was a mistake – I didn’t mean anything by it!”

“Bollocks! You were thinking about her, weren’t you?!” Here was where the tears started rolling down Rose’s face. “You were making love to me, and you were thinking about Lily-fucking-Potter!”

“Rose, don’t –!”

“How could you do this, Severus?! After all we’ve been through?! I almost died for you, and yet you can’t appreciate me enough to give me your whole mind along with your being!”

“You’re wrong!” Severus barked out as he pushed himself up in bed, but Rose was too quick to respond. “Oh, am I? You said you wanted to be with me, Severus. But all along, you’ve been pining for a dead woman!”

Feeling as though he had been shot through the stomach, Severus went rigid, his face contorting around his horrified eyes. The tears started welling up before he even realized what was happening. “Rose…please…I can explain.”

“Like hell, you can!” Rose wailed. “Why don’t you just admit it? You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Severus dropped his jaw to fiercely defend himself and his love for this distraught young Gryffindor, but the words caught in his throat, so hard that it almost choked him. He sat there with his mouth agape, at a loss for anything in the face of such despair.

No matter what he said to her, it would have been a lie.

Rose’s face scrunched up, flushing an awful shade of pink as the tears were forced from her eyes like a child in the midst of a tantrum. “You despicable git! Harry was right, you were playing me all this time! I gave you everything! _Everything!_ ” Severus tried to reach out to her. But Rose jerked back like she had been burned, and screamed, “No, don’t touch me! Don’t come any closer!”

“Rosie, please!” Severus begged. “It’s me – nothing’s changed!”

“You expect me to believe that?!” cried Rose as she began to circle around the bed toward the door. “You told me you loved me…”

“I still do!” yelled Severus. He moved to stand, but Rose backed away from him. Her hysterical breaths suddenly eased, and she stared at him with a long, despairing gaze. And when more tears dripped down her cheek, she pressed her eyes closed, softly muttering, “Evidently, not enough.”

She turned and ran out of the room.

Severus raced to try and catch her, but Rose was much too quick for his heavily pregnant state, and by the time he reached the sitting room, his chamber door was hanging open. Gripping the archway, Severus frantically turned out to watch Rose running down the dark dungeon hall. He called after her, but she was already long gone, and without one look back. When she disappeared into the shadows, Severus fell against the door as it closed behind him, gripping his chest like he was having a heart attack. He might as well have been having one, the pain was so overwhelming.

She didn’t even look back…

Blinded by his tears, Severus stumbled back to the bedroom, struggling to breathe, and he had barely gotten through the door when he collapsed to his knees. He dragged himself along the floor, gasps turning into sobs, reaching the fireplace before he even realized what he was doing. He tossed in the powder with a great shout, and he crumpled into sobs as the face appeared in the hearth.

“Severus,” Remus’s steady voice rang out from the other end of the Floo. His weary face was etched with worry at the sound of his distraught friend. “Severus, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Remus…” Severus croaked, trying to regain some sense of composure. That mission however failed miserably as he sucked in a shaky breath. “Rose…she…”

“She what?” asked Remus, his concern suddenly increasing. “Severus, what happened with Rose?”

“She left me, Remus!” At that point, Severus gave up the fight completely, and he dissolved into a fit of sobs. “She left me!”

**~HP~**

Up in Gryffindor tower, it appeared that it would be an ordinary evening. Work-weary students were slaving away at their excess of assignments. The Easter holiday was coming up soon, and right after that was the beginning of exam time, leaving the students no choice but to settle into this tedious routine. Only a few found enough humor in the situation to try to make a game out of it by seeing who could get the most finished before passing out over their books.

Hermione had her nose in a book on the sofa while Ron and Harry were engrossed in an increasingly competitive game of chess, all quite content with their quiet night, when all of a sudden, there was a tremendous banging noise from outside the portrait hole, followed by the voice of the Fat Lady loudly protesting being pounded upon. Everyone in the common room turned in the direction of the noise, but none of them were sure if they should answer. Only when they started to hear frantic gasps did Harry step up and approach the doorway, though he slipped his wand out just in case. He pushed the wooden frame out with a small charm, and he stumbled to the side as Rose burst into the common room. All eyes shot to her; if it wasn’t the fact that she was barely wearing pajamas and no shoes that got their attention, her hysterical sobs certainly did.

In a flash, Rose dashed across the sitting area, and she flew up the steps without a word, disappearing into the girls’ dormitories.

Hermione gasped and tossed her book to the side as she got to her feet, and Ron had already launched himself over his table and chess board. Both of them rushed to follow their distraught friend. Slightly faster, Ron got ahead of Hermione, passing a confused Neville, and he was the first to reach the lofty steps of the girls’ side of the tower. He barely heard Neville’s warning as he dashed up the steps, calling Rose’s name. Hermione gripped at her temples when she heard several loud, startled screams, and Ron came tumbling down the slide-like ramp the stairs had suddenly collapsed into. Not far behind him were Lavender and Parvati, who had apparently gone after Rose from their own room, and they landed on top of Ron with a hard _‘oof’._

Before Hermione could launch into a lecture about how stupid Ron was to forget about the detection spell on the stairs, she looked up the shoot of the tower, and at the first thought of Rose, her powerful maternal instincts took over. Whipping out her wand, she easily reversed the steps back to their proper form, and she started for her dormitory. The other girls tried to scramble off of Ron to follow her, but Hermione quickly stopped them with a sharp growl. The only person that was going to be getting into that room was her, and she didn’t want to hear one word about it. She then turned away from her flabbergasted housemates and pounded her way up the stairs.

In their room, Hermione found Rose in a crumpled heap on the floor, gripping her bedding like she had fallen just short of the mattress. But even if she looked weaker than the sickest patient in St. Mungo’s, there was no stopping the incredible sobs that wracked her body. Her heart sinking into her pelvis, Hermione threw herself onto the floor, crashing to her knees, but feeling no pain.

“Oh Rose!” she gasped frantically. “Rose, what’s wrong?!”

“Go away!” Rose wailed, muffled by her duvet cover. She might have said more, but she found herself choked by her own tears, and she buried her face in red cloth.

“No way,” said Hermione as she tugged at her crying friend’s shoulder. “Not after seeing something like that. What the hell are you doing here? We thought you were with Severus.” Rose wept harder at the mention of the Potions master’s name, and Hermione’s eyes shot open as her jaw dropped. “Oh Merlin, what happened with Severus? Did you two have a row?” Rose opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was another abrupt sob.

“Come on Rose, say something,” Hermione pleaded. She grabbed hold of Rose’s shoulders and pulled her away from the bed, as though to shake some sense back into her friend. “Did something happen to Severus? Did he do something to you? Please, I’m begging you!”

Rose gave a few frantic pants, almost hyperventilating. Finally, after several attempts to speak, the low guttural words croaked out of her throat. “He…he doesn’t love me.”

Hermione froze suddenly, stunned as Rose continued to cry under her hands. Of all the things that could have upset Rose to such a severe extent, after everything in the last two months that almost drove them all to madness, nothing could have come out of nowhere like this. He didn’t love her…obviously Rose was referring to Severus this time. But just that morning, Hermione and everyone else involved assumed that Rose’s relationship with the Potions master was stronger than ever. What the bloody hell happened?

“Rose, what are you talking about?” she asked. “Of course, Severus loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” cried Rose, shaking her head. “It’s all a lie. He doesn’t love me, he never did.”

Hermione let out an exasperated breath, feeling her skull beginning to crack under the confusion. Reaching out, she took Rose’s face in her hands, and she waited until Rose’s sobs slowed to intermittent gasps before speaking again in a soft, careful tone. “Settle down Rose, just take a deep breath. Now tell me, what happened with Severus? Why doesn’t he love you?”

“He called me Lily,” croaked Rose, hiccupping between breaths. Hermione’s face tensed and lines appeared in her soft forehead. “He did what?”

“He called me Lily. We were in bed, we were getting romantic, and he called me Lily. You heard me perfectly well the first time. Don’t make me say it again.”

“Alright, alright,” said Hermione. She shifted her hands down onto Rose’s shoulders, and she shifted her weight so that both of them sat sideways on the floor. “Rose…I don’t know what to say. There has to be some kind of a mistake.”

“Bullshit,” moaned Rose. “I heard him say it, Hermione.”

“But Rose, he probably didn’t mean it.”

Rose scoffed, sniffing back the mucus her tears had worked up. “As if I can believe that. Hardly a word about her all year long, and he just suddenly blurts it out as I’m trying to screw him? Come on, Hermione, wake up and smell the potion. He’s been thinking of her all this time. I thought he wanted to be with me, but all he wanted was that bloody saint of a woman. If you’re about to say that I should forgive him, it’s not going to happen. There’s no way I can let this go.”

“So you just left him?” whispered Hermione. “Just like that?”

“It was the only thing I could do,” said Rose, and she wilted against the side of the bed with a weak sigh, at last allowing her body to relax. “I couldn’t stay with a dishonest man.”

**~HP~**

“Oh Severus, of all the things you could have done,” Remus bemoaned as he paced the length of Severus’s quarters. His tie still hung undone around his neck, and his old slippers scraped across the floor. His fingers gripped at his tensing temples with a weak touch, unable to find the strength that this thwarting situation called for.

The moment that Severus called for him, Remus had hurled himself through the fireplace to come to his friend’s rescue. But now that he actually knew what had happened, there was almost nothing that he could do other than pace before the pregnant wizard, who was now lying across the sofa with one hand on his stomach and the other clasping his head.

“I just cannot believe it,” continued Remus. “After everything that’s happened, you have to go and do something like this.”

“Don’t bloody patronize me,” Severus croaked, pressing his eyes shut against the weak candlelight. Even though Remus had helped him to calm down enough to stop crying, every fiber of his being was forcing him back in that direction. His stomach churned with his nauseating emotions, and the pain in his head was almost unbearable. His words were shaky as he turned his head to his friend and said, “I don’t need you talking to me like I did this on purpose.”

“I’m sorry Severus, but frankly, I’m not sure how the hell I can approach this. This is unbelievable. You and Rose were going so strong. You’ve been up against some tough obstacles, myself included, and yet nothing seemed to get in your way. Severus, you almost worked yourself into early labour at the mere thought of Rose’s death. Now that you two have recovered, I imagined that there was nowhere for you to go but up. I just don’t understand how this could have happened so suddenly. What in Merlin’s name was going through your head that caused you to shout out Lily’s name?”

“It was an accident!” snarled Severus. “I said to Rose, and I say it to you. It was a fucking accident! However, I leave it to you to decide if you believe that or not. Rose obviously didn’t.” His eyes traveled down to Rose’s silver locket, which was resting on the nearby table. In her haste, Rose had left it in the bedroom, which Severus took as a grave sign as to the current state of their relationship.

“Well, what were you talking about before it happened?” asked Remus, but Severus rolled his eyes to himself as he shook his head.

“Given the particular position in which it happened, I hardly jump at the chance to explain it to you.”

Remus looked at Severus for a short moment, and his tired brow furrowed slightly. He then shook his head slowly as he moved to sit in the armchair by Severus’s head. “Look Severus, I’m trying to help you, so don’t clam up on me now. You’re not the first man to shout out the wrong name in the middle of having sex.”

“We didn’t even get to do _that_ ,” Severus sneered, to which Remus responded with, “Which begs to question again, what were you and Rose talking about before you got interrupted?”

Severus turned his face to the ceiling, his aching head feeling so heavy on the sofa’s worn arm. How could anyone ask him to recall such an awful memory? The mere thought was contorting his insides into painful, sickening knots, making the baby wriggle uncomfortably, and yet Remus was making him talk. Of all tortures, Severus thought to himself, nothing was more punishing than seeing your wrongs for everything that they were.

“Rose was talking about the future,” he explained, morosely. “I suppose surviving Lucius’s attack had stirred something in her. I’ve heard her speak of life in this new world, purged of the Dark Lord’s menace, but she never spoke of her own plans with such certainty. She said that she wanted a life and a family with me.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?” asked Remus.

“It is,” said Severus. “But it got me thinking. I have spent all of my adult life believing and accepting that something like that would never happen for me. Even after I started seeing Rose, I had a hard time believing that it would come to anything.”

“You didn’t think it would last the year?”

“I thought that it wouldn’t last to see my child’s birth. What you lot have been saying about Rose, that she would eventually grow tired of me and move on to a younger man, I feared for that every single day. But Remus, she was talking about her and I having our own children together. I’ve never seen anything like it; she’s ready to be a mother, and she’s ready to be a wife, and she wants to do it with me.”

“So what went wrong?” Remus asked, tensing slightly in his chair.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” said Severus. “It suddenly hit me that this could actually be happening, and I almost couldn’t grasp it.”

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Remus interrupted. “Do you not want to make that kind of commitment to Rose?”

“No, I do. But I told you already. I never thought that I would be so fortunate to end up with a girl like Rose. I didn’t think that I would even come close. For as long as I’ve been living, I always saw Lily as what should have been my perfect woman, and for years, only she had been able to bring me such happiness.”

Scratching his stubbly chin, Remus squinted his eyes as he bluntly said, “And you are only just realizing that Rose has replaced her.”

Feeling like he had just been hit by a rock to the head, Severus jerked up onto his elbows, his brow furrowing with the blink of an eye. “I said no such thing!” he snapped. “My love for Rose is completely different from Lily.”

“Really?” asked Remus, arching his brow. “This is different? How so?”

“It just is,” said Severus. “Rose and Lily are two different women, it is two different relationships, and you would be foolish to see it any other way.”

At that bold declaration, Remus let out what could have been a snarl, and he practically leapt to his feet with a great huff. “Seriously?” he griped. “You don’t see any of it?” Stubborn as ever he was, Severus ground his teeth and growled out as threateningly as he could manage, “Any of what?” And for Remus, that was the last straw.

“Oh, will you wake up from that bloody dream of yours and think for a minute?!” he gnashed. Remus then held out his hand to begin counting down his rough fingers. “She’s got red hair. She has nice eyes. She’s a Gryffindor. Severus, _her name is Rose!_ A man would have to be brain-dead not to see that!”

Severus opened his mouth to defend himself, but as those angry, exasperated words sunk in, one by one, they stole away each of his until he was left speechless. And when the full realization hit, it hit with the force of a speeding bullet, tearing through Severus’s gut like fire.

No, it just wasn’t so. It was preposterous, even! Severus loved Rose for being Rose. The fact that she shared similar qualities with his long-late friend had no bearing on their love. In fact, Severus might not have cared to notice them at all if Remus hadn’t laid them out so plainly. No, he wasn’t trying to replace Lily…at least he thought he wasn’t.

“Rose isn’t Lily,” he murmured, a rather pathetic retort to put it kindly.

“No, she’s not,” replied Remus, sternly. “Severus, I know Rose, but if something like this got out to the masses, they would all say the same thing. You lost a fair, red-haired Gryffindor, so you found yourself another one.”

“She’s not Lily!” Severus cried, and he gripped his head again. Remus knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, bidding him to silently calm down. The poor bloke had been through enough distress that night, and Remus doubted that either Severus or his unborn baby could take any more of it.

“Severus, please just listen to yourself,” he said. “Tell me the truth. Rose wanted a future, but you could not fully agree. It wasn’t because you were being too careful. It was because you couldn’t see that future with anyone but Lily, and not even Rose could change that.”

Severus pulled himself out of Remus’s grasp, and he sat up at the edge of the sofa, leaning over his swollen abdomen. His deep black eyes were already burning with more impending tears, and he longed for nothing more than the soft touch he had taken so much for granted. “I love Rose Beckett.”

“And you also love Lily Evans-Potter. I know you do. The question now is who do you love more.”

Severus reached out to the table, and Rose’s locket slid into the palm of his hand. Gripping the cold silver, he pressed his hard fist to his forehead, all the while repeating to himself the mantra that both supported and destroyed him.

She wasn’t Lily…she wasn’t Lily.

**~HP~**

“Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?” Harry ground out as he paced about his dormitory floor. In a moment of fleeting sense, Hermione had decided to bring the Head Boy into the madness surrounding Rose’s emotional distress. However, it was only after they went to the trouble of smuggling Rose up to the boys’ dormitory steps underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak that she realized her mistake. “I knew that something like this was going to happen, but did anyone listen? No, of course not! I mean it’s not like I know what I’m saying!”

“Alright Harry, you’ve made your point,” said Hermione, who was watching Rose from Ron’s bed. Though the sobs had given in to exhaustion, the redheaded witch was still of a distant temperament, and she strongly objected to being touched. So she took a place on the floor by Harry’s bedpost, cradling her legs close to her body so that her chin rested on her knees. She stared at the wall, almost like she wasn’t listening to what her friends were saying.

“Hang on Hermione, I can’t just let this one go,” Harry objected. “I told every one of you that Snape’s feelings for my mum would come back to haunt us, but you said I was being silly.”

“Hey Harry, I believed you,” said Ron, leaning against the closed door to keep people out, but Hermione automatically turned to him with a peculiar stare and said, “Ron, I love you, but shut up. We don’t need to make this worse than it already is.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders lamely with a twisted smirk. “Honestly, I don’t know why we should even be arguing about this. Rose already dumped the two-timing creep, so what’s done is done, and good riddance.”

“I didn’t break up with Severus,” Rose abruptly interjected, angling her eyes in Ron’s direction.

“But you’re seriously considering it, aren’t you?” Harry suggested, and Rose turned her blue gaze away from him. It was suddenly painful to see those brilliant green orbs behind the lenses of his glasses.

“I say she’s better off without him,” said Ron. “Aside from not being saddled with a baby that’s not hers, Rose deserves to have a guy who can stay focused on her and not fantasize about someone else while he’s shagging her.”

“I hate to agree, but –,”

“Harry, shut up,” ordered Hermione. “First of all, you are more than a little biased in this whole mess, as we all are really. You’ve been against Snape from the start, and you think you’ve finally found validation.”

“He called Rose by my mother’s name,” Harry pointed out to Rose’s audible groan. “What more do you want?”

“But Harry, you weren’t inside his head when he said it. A lot of things could have caused him to say it.”

Ron couldn’t help but scratch his head at that one. “Well, Rose knows Snape better than any of us, and she doesn’t seem very convinced.”

“His name is Severus, Ron,” said Rose. “And he tried to say that it was a mistake.”

“Well then, why didn’t you believe him this time?”

Rose had to actually stop and think about that for a moment, possibly her first moment of coherence that night. In her distress, she realized that she had been acting on bare instinct, not giving one thought to what she did or said. And now that she finally had a chance to collect herself, Rose was starting to feel a little more like herself again.

“In all the time we’ve spent together, he never talked about her. Lily Potter was this looming figure above us, always there and never forgotten, but not once did he mention her. The only times he said anything at all was when I asked. I suppose after this long, I thought if Severus wasn’t talking, then it meant it didn’t matter. Not to speak ill of your mother, Harry, but I thought he was done with her.”

“He’s been in love with her his entire life, Rose,” said Harry. “Even after she died, he never gave it up. You know the story, how everything he did for as long as we’ve been alive was for her. If you thought that one thing could change that, even everything that you’ve done for him in the last seven months, I’m sad to say that you are probably wrong.” That apparently was a hard pill to swallow, as the tears again started to roll down Rose’s red, raw cheeks. She quickly wiped them away with the heel of her hand.

“So is that all I was?” she whimpered. “A physical body to satisfy his long-dead fantasies? Harry, he told me that he loved me. He has more integrity than that.”

“Rose is right,” said Hermione. “If there is anything that we know about Severus Snape, it’s that he doesn’t say something unless he really means it. And if there’s one thing that I am sure of, it’s that he is madly in love with Rose.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Ron. “You’re not exactly tuned into his train of thoughts either.”

“You didn’t see him after Malfoy attacked.” Hermione scooted to the end of her boyfriend’s bed, gripping the post as she recounted that awful night. “Guys, I know you don’t want to believe it, but I have never seen anyone that broken, man or woman. I mean it when I say this; it made me sick to see Severus like that, and he’s not even my boyfriend. He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of Rose dying – he was inconsolable! He was so upset that I was actually afraid that he would miscarry. Try to imagine what that is like, if you can. He could have lost both his girlfriend and his unborn baby in one night, and damn it if he didn’t know it.”

“He did almost crush the life out of me when I got to him the next night,” mentioned Rose, and Hermione said, “See? And he barely let you out of his sight since. He gave you potions when you were in pain. He kept people away from you when your father was on trial. He took care of you.”

“But it’s not worth a heap of gold if he’s got another woman on his mind,” said Harry.

Without warning, Rose burst off the ground and rushed to tackle Harry to the ground. But lucky for him, Ron’s reflexes were just as quick. He leapt in front of his best mate and landed on top of Rose, using his weight to pin her down on the floor.

“Get the fuck off me!” she snarled, wriggling under Ron’s strong grasp.

“Oh, so he’s not worth it, huh?” the ginger wizard sniggered, holding Rose in place until her muscles finally went lax. When he released his hold, Rose crawled up onto her hands and knees, panting to regain the sudden loss of breath. Her injured back was hurting now, and her throat tightened up with the pain.

“I can’t help it,” she muttered. “Severus is a good man, and I won’t have any of you insulting his honor.”

“So you’re going to forgive him then?” asked Harry, a little too sarcastically for his friends’ taste.

“No,” snapped Rose. Evidently, her mood had swung once again, and now she had reverted back to the anger that started this whole mess to begin with. “I – I mean, I want to believe Severus, but you’re right also. I can’t just forget this happened and just accept that he’ll always be mentally cheating on me.”

“Then what are you going to do?” asked Hermione, and Rose fell silent again. Hermione slid down to the floor to look her best friend in the eye. “Think of it this way. Put yourself in Severus’s place.”

Rose brow furrowed at that suggestion. The fact that she knew exactly what Hermione was trying to say set a whole different array of emotions into play, and if she were honest with herself, she was insulted. How anyone could use her past with Dante against her, Rose would never understand. But she was too tired to be angry at Hermione. With a purse of her lips, she blinked slowly as she said, “Go on.”

Hermione took hold of Rose’s hand, squeezing gently under Harry and Ron’s watchful eyes. “You love this man, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“Do you want to be with him?”

“I did.”

“Well, if you made this kind of mistake, wouldn’t you like a chance to make this right?”

Rose sat still, and she looked up at her male companions for some sort of help. Astonishingly, Ron and Harry had relaxed into a pair of befuddled frowns, like they were reluctantly surrendering to Hermione’s argument. Choking on her own breath, Rose shook her head as she looked to Hermione with an ever-growing confusion. “Why are you taking his side?” she asked weakly.

“I never said I was,” said Hermione. “But if I am, it’s because this isn’t so simple. I know you know that, Rose. You are only one part of a very deep, complicated story, and there is far more at play than you will ever acknowledge. Isn’t that right, Harry?” The boy hero gave Rose a small smirk; it was not encouraging, but rather sympathetic, like he was at last backed into a corner without any more options. He then sighed and offered up a short nod, as though he would rather not take any more part in the conversation, only to realize that he was as deeply involved as Rose was.

Rose looked up in sadness as she fought off the terrible ache settling in her stomach. She wanted to crumble, but she refused to shed one more tear. No one was going to help her out of this one. No one but her could be left with such a dreadful decision.

**~HP~**

Back in the dungeons, Severus was pondering himself into madness. He realized that he still held very deep feelings for Lily, and that it had unknowingly been affecting his relationship with Rose. More than that, he was facing the awful, but very real possibility that it was a blunder that would cost him the rest of his romantic life. Pacing around the sitting room, dressing gown draped over his body, the harried pregnant wizard massaged his temples as he struggled to pull himself together.

“For Prospero’s sake, Severus, will you please sit down?” Remus groaned, watching Severus’s awkward hobbling from his chair. “You know that so much walking this far into your pregnancy can’t be good for you.”

“When you get an idea of what else I could do, please don’t hesitate to tell me,” said Severus. “You would be doing the same thing if you were in my place.”

“Then sit down for my sake, will you? Just looking at you is making my back hurt!”

Severus might have objected, but before he could get a word out, he received a hard punch to the kidney from his unborn baby, who was no doubt at the end of their rope with their father’s anguishing state of mind. And as was the way it always seemed, Severus was more willing to comply with his child’s needs than his own. Carefully, he padded over to the sofa, and he eased back down onto the cushions with a heavy breath, rubbing his round bump to soothe the little one back to sleep.

“You keep this up, and the baby will be here sooner than we think,” commented Remus, and he reached out to pat the other wizard’s belly. But Severus pulled away; he was in no mood for light-hearted fluff, not when in his mind, he had more pressing matters than his impending due date.

“What do I do, Remus?” he asked quietly, his hand following the baby’s soft, stroking motions inside. “How the hell could I possibly fix this?”

“Well,” Remus cautiously started. At this point, he had realized that Severus needed someone to talk some sense into him. But just as any other man in romantic peril, he also needed someone to be his friend. “For one, you should actually admit your feelings.”

“That’s not going to bring Rose back,” mumbled Severus.

“No, but it could start you on the right track to an apology.” The werewolf took hold of the Potion master’s shoulder with a firm, but comforting grip. “Come on, mate. All you have to do is say it, get it off your chest.”

“What point is there in admitting something that the world already knows about? Rose knows the whole story by now, so why make it worse?”

“Because the first step in healing is always acceptance,” said Remus. “Severus, the truth be told, this has more to do with you than it does with Rose. If you can’t admit it to yourself, then how can you ever expect to say it to her?”

Severus cringed slightly, the words tasting like the harshest poison. It was a simple thing to say, yet he felt it only betrayed Rose further. But even if he felt like the horrors of hell were about to rise up through the floors, he forced himself to utter some of the worst things he never thought he would loathe to say. “Alright…alright…I love Lily Potter. I always have loved her, and I don’t think I will ever stop loving her. Satisfied?”

“Yes, very good,” Remus commended. “But that’s just the easy part. Be honest with me, do you accept that there never was anything between you, nor will there ever be?”

“Of course, I do!” Severus snarled. “I know she’s dead, and she’s never coming back. For God’s sake, Remus, it’s been eighteen years. I’m not some bloody fucking hopeless romantic.”

“Alright, I hear you,” said Remus. “But let me try and make my point. I understand how much you cared for Lily, and really, it’s alright that you still love her after so long. But you can’t keep going on like this. It’s not good for you, and it’s not good for Rose. You don’t want to go through with your lives with Lily’s ghost looming over you, do you?” Severus sat silent for a moment, but he did eventually shake his head, to which Remus said, “Then there’s only one thing you can do.”

“What is that?” asked Severus, his pondering all pondered out. Remus straightened his back slightly, and he rested his hand on Severus’s arm as he said, “You have to let go of Lily.”

Severus’s black brow furrowed over hollow eyes, and his chin trembled slightly as the words sunk in. “Remus, I can’t do that. Lily was all that I had for all those years. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be alive.”

“I know,” sighed Remus. “But it needs to be done. Lily kept you going for a lifetime, but all of that is over now, and your life is different now. You’re not the miserable, lonely bastard that arrived at Hogwarts at year’s start. You’re expecting a baby, and you have a woman in your life, a woman who has made you happier than I have ever seen you. To get a future, you have to stop dwelling on the past. It’s time to put everything you had with Lily behind you, lay those memories to rest, let go of the regrets that you have been made to live with. Either you do that, or you really will lose Rose forever.”

Severus cradled his head in his hands, feeling as though the vast trove of memories would cause it to explode. His hands started to tremble as he mumbled, “You ask me to do the impossible.”

“You want to be happy, don’t you?” asked Remus.

“I just want Rose back,” Severus whispered.

“And you still can. You just have to get over this last hurdle. Rose knows how difficult this is for you, and if she really loves you, she will understand that this has to happen.”

“This has been hanging over her head for as long as she has been with me. I think I have offended her enough without saying a single word.” Remus tried to assure Severus of Rose’s ability to console and support, and that she would eventually come back around, saying that she always did. But he hadn’t seen the look on Rose’s face as she ran from Severus’s bed chamber. He hadn’t heard the horrendous pain and rage in her voice. And he didn’t spend the last two hours wondering if this anger would be his last memory of her.

Severus knew Rose better than he knew himself, and he couldn’t see her turning back to him any time soon. He probably wouldn’t even see her for days; those Gryffindor friends were possessive little devils, but they were loyal to her, and by god, were they protective. With the thought of Rose huddled up in Gryffindor tower, away from any prying eyes, Severus tried to reason that for now, it was the best thing for them. As much as he would have liked to have Rose by his side, he knew that it wasn’t really her place this time. This was his problem, not hers.

“So how do you suppose I go about this?” he asked Remus. Almost like he wasn’t prepared for it, the werewolf’s brow tweaked sharply, and his head bobbed to the side slightly as he tossed about his choice of words. He kept his eyes on the wall as he spoke carefully.

“Well…I do have one idea, but it would be risky. I mean, you being eight months pregnant, I don’t think it would be safe for you to –,”

“Remus,” Severus interrupted, his voice tensing again. “I don’t want to hear about what is safe for me to do. All I care about is getting this done, and saving my relationship. Now, what is your little idea?”

“Have you been to Godric’s Hollow recently?”

It was difficult to silence Severus Snape with a single question, but Remus managed to do exactly that. Swallowing his own breath, the Potions master blinked twice, glancing up almost timidly when he connected with the weary amber of Remus’s eyes. “I never could walk those streets while she was living there with Potter…and I couldn’t bear to go there after she died. Why?” Remus didn’t answer right away, instead choosing to tap his fingers together in his lap. He chewed on his lower lip, almost nervously, before finally taking in a deep breath through his nose.

“Let me tell you something, Severus,” he began. “When I was first told that Lily and James had been murdered, I didn’t want to believe it. The two of them, they were so skillful and brave. Of all people that I thought could fall to Lord Voldemort, I never thought it would be them. For days afterward, I held myself up in my old flat, just trying to convince myself that none of it was true, that my friends were not dead. It wasn’t until I stood there in that churchyard after the funeral that it really hit me that they were gone. I had to see it in order to accept it.”

“You are saying I must visit Lily’s grave,” Severus moaned weakly, pressing his eyes closed. The very thought was making him sick to the stomach, and he pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips. “Remus, you can’t make me do that. There has to be another way.”

“I’m afraid that any other way will just take us round and round in circles,” said Remus. “But in all honesty, Severus, I think it could do you a great deal of good. What happened between you and Lily was unfinished business, and her death ensured it. You were never able to explain yourself, beg for her forgiveness. You never were able to tell her how much she meant to you. But this…this might be your last chance. You need to absolve yourself of all this pain and torment that you have carried with you, and if there was one thing I was certain of about Lily, it was her immense ability to forgive. Wherever she is now, she will hear you. She will hear all of your sorrow, and she will know all of your regrets.”

“But what if it is all for nothing?” asked Severus, his voice cracking with emotion. He had to fight back the tears and force down the memories of the last time he had seen Lily’s fair face as he said, “The dead cannot talk back.”

“That doesn’t mean that they are not still with us.” Remus shifted over to the sofa as Severus leaned back into the cushions, both hands resting atop his swollen abdomen. Somehow sensing that it would bring some sort of comfort, he reached over and touched his friend’s stomach, and he was surprised when Severus did not pull away. “You need to do this, Severus. No matter what happens with Rose, you will still be doing yourself the greatest service that you might ever see in this life. What do you say, mate? Throw away the shackles, turn your face to the sky. I did it with Lily, with James, with Sirius, and with Dora, and I survived. You can as well.”

Severus just about swallowed the urge to vomit at this onslaught of contemplation, but no matter which way he tried to approach it, the path always led to the same end. Remus was right. He was right about everything. All Severus had been doing was trapping himself in a spiral of deeply held, but deeply destructive denial, and if something did not change soon, then it might be too late for him. Thinking of his unborn child, and of the future that he so wanted to give them, Severus decided that nothing was worth risking his sanity and stability, and with a deep, shaky breath, he turned to look at Remus with weary black eyes.

“When do we go?”

“Very soon,” said Remus, thinking aloud, half to himself. “You are further along in your pregnancy than we would prefer, but you also haven’t shown too many signs of oncoming labour. I feel that the next week or so will be our last window of opportunity for you to travel safely.”

“You mean to say the Easter holiday,” said Severus, reaching the conclusion before Remus had the chance to get there. The werewolf nodded his head in reply.

“Without the hassle of classes, you can take your time in getting to the Hollow, so you don’t have to feel rushed. We can rest in between travel, perhaps even take a whole day to recuperate.”

“And just how do you expect this to get past Albus?” Severus asked with a curved brow. Oh, he was just dying to hear the answer for that one.

“We will tell him the truth, or the truth as far as he is concerned. Severus, Albus saw you through all of this before anyone else knew. I’m sure that he will understand that you need to get this one last thing done before the baby comes.”

Severus’s hand slid down the curve of his rounded belly, and his fingers brushed against Remus’s rough ones. “And you will be going with me?”

“Of course, I will,” said Remus. “I can’t just turn you loose when you are weeks away from giving birth. Besides, I would have gone anyway. You might have to do this, but I won’t let you do this alone.”

“I want to go too.”

Severus and Remus both flinched in their skins at the low, meek voice coming from behind them. Remus immediately turned nearly his entire torso in the direction of the door, his face suddenly hardened in an instinct to protect. But when his eyes fell on the trembling figure entering, the determination melted into unpleasant surprise. He stood up from the sofa as Rose pushed the aging wood closed behind her, letting the invisibility cloak she carried fall to the floor at her feet.

“Rose,” the werewolf professor muttered in disbelief. “What are you doing back here?”

“I needed to come back,” Rose tried to explain, though not without nervous pauses which were most unbecoming of her. “I… I had hoped to speak to Severus.”

“Quite frankly, if you have to ask me, I think you have said quite enough tonight,” said Remus. His lips started to thin out with his displeasure.

“I know, and I don’t need one more person lecturing me about how wrong I was.” Rose stepped further into the room, and she wrapped her arms about her chest to keep her hands occupied. “Anyhow, I heard you say that you were going to Godric’s Hollow, and I want to go with you.”

“And just what makes you believe that you should?” Even in the dim light, Remus could see how Rose’s lips pursed harshly.

“Severus can’t do this alone,” she said tensely. “And he needs more comfort than just you. I’m not saying that you won’t help him, but if you want him to do what you’re asking him to, you might not be the help he needs.”

“She’s right, Remus,” Severus finally croaked, and his two companions looked to him with long stares. Cradling his baby bump, he ran a slow hand down his clammy face, black eyes not peering up to meet amber or blue. “As good and loyal a friend as you are, there isn’t much else you could do for me other than serving as an escort.”

“Severus,” said Remus, very careful not to set off a sharp turn in Severus’s emotions. “I don’t want you to feel that you have to decide on this tonight. You are in no fit state to do this right now.”

“By that reasoning, neither is Rose.” Severus gently nodded his head to the side, making Remus transfer his attention to the Gryffindor in the shadows. He couldn’t help but suddenly notice how feeble Rose seemed to be, and how her face was sickly pale and hollow. Her half-lidded blue eyes hid the red stains from long-dried tears. She looked just as exhausted as Severus did, and Remus felt his tension slipping away. Sometimes, he just hated that he had to feel sorry for these kids.

“You know she won’t get by unnoticed,” he said to Severus.

“That is true, but we do have one advantage,” said Severus. “This journey would be taking place over the Easter holiday, and as you know, students do have the option to go home for the week.”

“Yes, Severus, but you are forgetting that Rose is a Seventh year. Out of the whole lot, I think only two of them choose to leave every year.”

“No matter, Rose’s absence will still go unnoticed because she won’t be seen much anyway.”

Remus’s face contorted in the onslaught of befuddlement. He tried to think back to his own school days, but dots just couldn’t seem to connect in his tired head. “What on earth do you mean?”

“We’d be in the dormitories,” Rose spoke up. “Easter comes with an enormous amount of work, and it only gets worse as we get older. Recently, my housemates and I have taken to spending whole days studying up in the common room, and to such an extent that we needed house-elves to bring us our meals. I could escape at any time, and no one would know I was gone.”

“Except your housemates,” Remus reminded her, but Rose just shook her head. “Actually, luck is on our side this year. It seems because the first anniversary of the battle here is coming up, most of us are going home this time, at least those who would notice me. If we leave that morning, those left behind will just think that I’m held up in my room. And if we leave early enough, we can get past the wards around the grounds.”

“We disguise Rose’s appearance, slip out before dawn, and none would be the wiser,” Severus uttered, laying the plan out plain. It took a moment for Remus to process all this information, tossing about everything he knew about Hogwarts security in his head, and just how it always seemed to end up, he saw that Severus and Rose were on the right track, if not correct entirely. Forcing out a hard sigh, he looked down on his physically and emotionally shattered friend, and he swallowed hard when he saw that Severus had already made up his mind.

It would be perilous work, smuggling a student out of Hogwarts, and it would risk the safety of their teaching jobs. But that was not what had Remus feeling so uncertain. No, it was because of his concern for Severus, and his unsettling decision to forgive Rose so quickly. The fight might not have been her fault, but the words she used had sapped away any innocence left in her. And if Remus was forced to choose a side, Severus’s wellbeing mattered most every time.

“Severus, are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, speaking slowly, the weight of his tone lowering his voice.

“Yes,” whispered Severus. “I want to make this right, and I cannot do that without Rose. I need her there with me, Remus. She doesn’t even have to say one word; her simple presence is enough for me. And if you want to be of any help to me, you will allow her to be there.” Remus swallowed the knot growing in his throat, looking between the two broken halves of couple. He knew he wasn’t likely to win this one, but when he saw the crushing despair in Severus’s face, he realized that it was futile. With a last sigh, he caved to the pregnant man’s wishes.

“Very well,” he muttered, and Rose stepped forward into the light. But before she could reach the sofa, Remus abruptly reach out his hand and caught her on the shoulder. He didn’t even give Rose a chance to speak as she looked up at him with a tired, confused stare. “Rose, I know that you really came down here to talk to Severus. Now, I am not your father, and therefore cannot control what you do in your private life. But I also have a responsibility to Severus as his colleague, his protector, and his friend. And right now, his health and that of the baby is all that matters. I want you to say what you have to say, make your peace with Severus, and then go back to Gryffindor tower. He has been through enough, and I feel that spending the night apart might do you both some good.”

Remus passed behind Rose without a second glance, and he gave Severus his quiet regards and sympathies before he disappeared into Severus’s bedchamber. Severus and Rose both waited, and they didn’t move until they heard the great rush of smoke and the green light that flashed from the other room. Alone at last, stripped of the company of outsiders, the couple were almost lost in the silence between them.

“I didn’t expect to see you this soon,” mumbled Severus, wringing his hands in his disappearing lap and hesitating to glance up at the standing witch.

“I have to agree,” said Rose. “I know you probably don’t have much to say to me right now.”

“I would have said the same about you, but then you wouldn’t be standing there. Frankly, I’m surprised you were able to get past those friends of yours.”

Rose had to shrug her shoulders at those very unpleasant, very recent memories. “For what it’s worth, Hermione gave me a good whipping after I told her what happened. She said that I couldn’t do that to a pregnant person.”

“So you came back because I’m pregnant?” Severus arched his brow as he finally turned his head in his girlfriend’s direction. Rose’s eyes popped open with her instant response. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that in your condition, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“You still apologize because of my infirmity, not because you thought you were wrong.” Severus turned his gaze from Rose again, and his hands went as still as stone when he heard her catch her breath behind her lips. Now, he really couldn’t bear to look at her, not when he could hear her emotion tightening her throat.

“I came here to talk to you, Severus,” she said. “All night, I have been fighting, and I’m tired. I am just so tired! If you are going to treat me with thick assumptions, then maybe I shouldn’t have bothered at all.”

She would leave again. She returned to give him his fair chance, but if she did not get what he expected, she would leave him again. In a time when Severus could not feel any more remorseful, Rose had to remind him of the stakes, that small power she held in the palm of her pale, freckled hand. He was basically being held captive by the one he loved the most. But then, if he could go by the look of utter pain in Rose’s tearstained eyes, it was no easier for her than it was for him. That being said, Severus could not come up with a single response that would satisfy them both, and so it was he who surrendered to the silence. Glancing down at the floor, he gestured for Rose to sit down. She took the spot beside him on the sofa without a word.

“So…” Severus muttered at last. “Why did you come back?”

“Because I wanted to,” said Rose, her voice dropping down a touch.

“Yes, but why? You had every right to refuse.”

Rose let out a soft sigh, wilting into the worn out cushions with her arms crossed over her waist. “Because I can’t do anything about this until I let you explain everything. I was wrong to run off like that, to speak to you that way.”

“Again, you had every right.” Severus tried to continue, but he was cut off by a sharp kick from the baby, the most painful one that night. Groaning, he gripped his oversized nightshirt, trying to breathe away the ache in his innards. But he paused when he felt another soft touch on his abdomen. He looked down to see how Rose was gently rubbing circles into his belly, smoothing both him and his child into sedation.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her, but Rose just shook her head, mumbling under her breath. “People don’t change in one night, and one row won’t change me.”

“Be honest, Rose,” said Severus. “Is this out of love or sympathy?”

“A little bit of both, I suppose.” Rose took in a deep breath to ward off recurring tears. “I’m hurt, Severus. I thought you and I could talk about anything, that there would be no trouble as long as we had each other. But you’ve been keeping this from me all along.”

“It had nothing to do with you,” replied Severus, rather pathetically.

“How can you say that? Everything that has to do with you does with me as well. Severus, do you even realize what you did? For months, you made me believe that I was the only woman for you. You never said that you still had those feelings for Harry’s mother, even if I knew you still thought about her. Do you always fantasize about her when we’re making love?”

“Of course not,” said Severus. “What happened tonight was a stupid mistake brought on by poor judgment and overthinking, and I am sorry. I am so sorry that I did that to you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you still loved her?” asked Rose. “You could have given me a chance to know how hard this was for you. Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that and set us up for something like this?”

“Why else would you think?” Severus asked her back. “I didn’t want to bring you into this because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to belittle you by talking about another woman and my feelings for her.”

“Even if I already knew most of the story?”

“Rose, don’t.” Severus grabbed hold of Rose’s stroking hand, keeping it still on his rounded middle. “I know that Potter has surely told you everything you need to know, so do me one kindness and don’t rub it in my face.”

“For god’s sake, Severus, will you let me speak?!” begged Rose. Severus glowered at her from the corner of his eye, but he did motion for her to continue, which Rose did in a sedate manner. “You shouldn’t have been so quick to assume how I would react. You could have found that you would have gotten this over with a lot sooner.”

“What do you mean?”

“I remember a year ago, just after the battle, when Harry started talking to the press, and I remember reading the papers. My heart broke for you when I heard your story. I had never heard a love story so tragic, and the fact that it almost cost you your life made me feel worse. I just couldn’t imagine how you survived for all that time. How could anyone live like that?”

“After so long, it passes beyond words,” said Severus. “But Rose, if you felt such sympathy for me, why didn’t you tell me so. You’ve attempted to, but never quite addressed the issue.”

“I didn’t mention it because I was afraid that you would end up like this,” Rose explained. “Think back to when I was serving all those detentions, love. You were so fragile from the trauma, and your rape injuries, and your morning sickness. The last thing I wanted to do was mention something that might send you over the edge. But that doesn’t mean that it was never on my mind. I’ve only just realized that all this time, I was just waiting for you to open up about Lily Potter.”

“Evans…”

Rose paused, and she looked to the hand that was gripping hers. Her brow wrinkles slightly. “What?”

“Her name was Lily Evans,” Severus croaked, and Rose glanced up to see that his eyes were beginning to gloss over. She swallowed hard against the emotional tension in her throat.

“Oh god, just talk to me already,” she pleaded. “Severus, please…don’t shut me out now.”

Now Severus turned away from Rose, loathing to look her in the eye. The tension in her voice made his stomach turn, and it almost hurt to speak past the knot in his throat. “What can I say that you haven’t heard before? There are a million things that can be said about Lily Evans-Potter, and you no doubt have heard them all.”

“I never heard your version.”

Oh, she was persistent, Severus thought to himself. He almost wanted to be angry at Rose for her tenacity; after going around the ring with Remus, Severus didn’t want to be pushed anymore. But then again, when had Rose ever left him alone in time of crisis? She had coaxed Severus into dishing more than a few secrets, and she talked her way into finding about the night Lucius Malfoy raped the Potions master.

“If you are hoping that I will dispute all those glorious claims about her, Rose, I afraid that I you would be disappointed.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” said Rose. “If I’m honest, I didn’t think you would really be interested in me because of her. I mean, who can live up to a woman like that? From what I have heard, she was one step away from becoming a living angel.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Rose,” said Severus.

“But that doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”

Severus just shook his head, offering Rose a very quiet, and very weak, “No…”

At that, Rose let out a sigh, and she planted her hands on her knees as she stood up. “I guess that’s it then,” she said. “You don’t have to talk to me if you’re not up to it, but I’m still going with you to Godric’s Hollow. Remus was right, you can’t do it alone.”

“So where does that leave us?” Severus asked as he looked up at Rose, his eyes straining to fight off his exhaustion. Rose’s face softened, her upset finally dulling and seeping away.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

“You don’t trust me anymore, do you Rose?” said Severus. Rose grimaced at such a disparaging statement, but with a long intake of breath, she looked down at her estranged lover with hard, serious blue eyes.

“I don’t distrust you…I pity you. I pity a man who cannot let go of dead emotions, a man who views himself with so little worth that he sentences himself to a life without love and commitment, even when if it was meant to happen.”

“You say such things when you know what this feels like,” Severus muttered. “What of Dante Macleod? Did his death not steal away your ideas for your future, make you feel as useless as a eunuch in a whore house?”

“Dante was young love that went tragically wrong,” said Rose. Her tone had hardened again, giving away her offense. “And I doubt that I really knew what love was until I went with you. The point is that you’ve brought this on yourself, Severus. You might not have realized it, but you were playing at me, and you were playing at yourself, stringing us both along with nowhere to end up but here…but I love you too much to cut you loose without giving you a chance.”

Severus swallowed hard, and he slowly leaned back onto the sofa. He looked and felt about ready to fall asleep right there on the worn out, uncomfortable cushions, and Rose realized that it was time for her to leave him be. Truthfully, she needed the space as well. She always hated to be so tightly wound, whether out of anger or distress. And so with a solemn nod, she turned for the door. Severus let his eyes drift closed as he listened to the light steps of her bare feet.

“You know, I didn’t go to Dante’s funeral.” Severus was suddenly alert again, and he angled himself just enough so that he was able to glance at Rose, who was standing with her hand on the door handle.

“Really?” he whispered. “You were more a friend to him than anyone else.”

“I know,” nodded Rose. “But I just couldn’t bear it. I watched him die; I didn’t need to see him like that again. I haven’t been to his resting place either. So I know how this feels. The least I can do is help you to do what I couldn’t with the courage that I didn’t have.”

Severus nodded solemnly, and he settled his head back down. “We will be in touch.”

“You take of yourself,” Rose told him. “Baby doesn’t need this stress with only one month to go.” She turned and moved to leave again.

“Rose, wait!” Severus suddenly spoke up, and Rose flinch before turning back with instant concern. Severus saw this, and feeling a certain weight in the pit of his stomach, me motioned for her to come closer. “Come here…please.” This time, Rose didn’t need such intense coaxing. Floating across the stone floor, she eventually reached the pregnant wizard’s side, and she settled down onto the surface of the center table, folding her hands in her lap. Severus reached for her hand; he was not required to show such intimacy, and Rose certainly didn’t have to oblige. But he needed to feel the warmth of her hand in his. He needed to draw strength from her if he was actually going to say this.

“What Sev?” Rose asked in a low voice, and Severus shuddered to hear his pet name. He swallowed hard, forcing down the nausea that was twisting his insides, but gathering together what little courage that remained, Severus took in a shaky breath and gripped at Rose’s lithe hand.

“Do you…do you think the dead ever truly leave the living?”

Rose wrinkled her brow slightly, and she gently stroked the back of her lover’s hand with her thumb. “Only the body dies, Severus. The soul goes on for eternity. And no, I don’t think they ever really vanish from this world. But what is this about?”

“Forgive me, Rose, but you of all people would understand something like this. You have been through some tremendous loss in your life…your first love.”

Rose had to clench her jaw to stop the tremble. By this point, she was getting more than a bit discouraged, not to mention uneasy. That night was depressing as it already was, stirring up anger and sadness in them both, with death at the very center of it all. Why did Severus want to delve deeper into the topic, and while doing so, using her own losses against her? “What are you trying to say?” she asked quietly, and Severus shrugged on the sofa.

“Have you ever felt that you have been touched by someone you lost? Like Dante…have you had a moment when you thought he might be trying to communicate with you somehow?”

Rose bit down on her bottom lip, struck by the gravity of the question and sickened at its likely source. Angling her face to the side, she took her hand back to fiddle with it in her lap. “I’ve had dreams about him…I still do actually. But all they were was a fantasy of what I wanted from him. I’m not naïve, Severus. I’ve heard stories of people supposedly being visited by loved ones in dreams, being given messages from beyond. But I have a hard time believing it when I’ve never felt it for myself. Why do you ask me?”

And that was when Severus could go no further.

No one knew about what really happened the night he almost succumbed to death, nearly one year before. He never talked about what he saw beyond the darkness, or the astonishing things he heard. Not even Dumbledore had heard the full tale of Severus’s remarkable return to life. But as much as Severus would have liked to finally get that incredible weight off his chest, reveal just how much he might have owed to Lily, it could not be said without breaking Rose’s heart beyond repair.

Severus had once thought that Lily’s promises of love and companionship pertained to his unborn child, yet to be conceived on that ungodly night. But in those long passing months, experiencing a multitude he had never felt before, he believed more and more that Lily had in fact been prophesizing his relationship with Rose. The reality of the present, however, could not be overcome. In this state, Rose would never believe such an idea, or perhaps she would not want to.

The only answer that Severus could give to Rose was silence, if only for her sake. And silence was all that Rose needed to understand him. Without another word, she stood up from the table, gave Severus’s bump one last rub, and to Severus’s unsettled surprise, she placed a gentle peck on his palled forehead. And then with slow, silent footsteps, she padded across the stone dungeon floor, and she disappeared through the door into the halls.

Severus thought about getting up to return to bed, but the thought made his stomach turn. He would be lying alone again after so long. Besides, there wasn’t much chance that the baby would actually let him sleep; after all that tension and anxiousness, the little one was in the process of unleashing a full-fledged assault of kicks and punches on their father’s internal organs. In pain both physically and emotionally, Severus held one hand to his stomach while the other cradled his aching head. He thought about everything that had just happened, all the things that were said, every last one of them destroying him bit by bit.

For the love of another, he had to give up on the great love of his life.


	75. Godric's Hollow

Time dragged on at a snail’s pace in those days leading up to the Easter holiday. Rose hadn’t given up on Severus entirely, but she was slow to settle back into their romantic routines. One night away from the dungeons became four nights, and her company was more readily spent on her fellow students. Even though she had a reasonable excuse in her upcoming exams, Severus could not be convinced. She still came to see him in between her lessons. She still showed him affection, and she still told him that she loved him. But she was just not the same Rose. His lively little Rosie had sunk back into the hindmost parts of her mind, outweighed by personal doubt.

Severus was surprised that Remus noticed the change in Rose. Once again, the werewolf tried to suggest that it would be better if Rose remained at Hogwarts for the holiday. But Rose had not changed in one aspect of her temperament, and that was her stubbornness. She firmly insisted that she would be joining them, and much like Remus, she would fulfill her duties and commitments to Severus. And in those long days leading up to their little trip, she did nothing that showed a change in her intensions. But still she remained distant from the two wizards; she didn’t even want to take part in the brewing of the Polyjuice Potion that would enable her escape. The only explanation she could give to either of them was that with the stress of the approaching end of term, it was better for everyone if she kept to herself and her housemates.

Suddenly, Remus thought as he watched Rose from across a crowded hall, it seemed that Rose travelling with them might have been a good idea after all. Every relationship came with its tests, some simple, others complicated. And if Severus and Rose could overcome this morbid task, then they just might be able to stand up to anything together.

**~HP~**

The morning of the journey began with a cold, dark sky. Dawn had not even broken when the three companions rose up out of bed; they needed the cover of darkness and time in order to pull off Rose’s getaway. But even if a sliver of light was to be seen, no one would have known it. The sky was dark with ominous, black clouds, and the air was cold with stagnant moisture. A storm was coming, rather appropriately given the circumstances.

Severus tried to breathe evenly as he watched Remus from across his office, standing over the bubbling cauldron. The two wizards had elected to wait for Rose in the dungeons, where the nearly finished Polyjuice Potion had been left to simmer. Rose in the meantime was still up in Gryffindor tower; she had slept there the night before, and was now in the process of dressing and gathering her things. She would be arriving shortly, after which she would drink the freshly brewed potion, and the three of them would make for Hogsmeade together.

Severus couldn’t help but stare at Remus out of the corner of his eye as the werewolf stirred the potion at the far end table. It wasn’t that Remus was terrible at brewing, but rather Severus’s compulsion to do all the work himself, even if pregnancy forbade him. After all, Rose had to drink that. One tiny mistake could harm her and blow their cover in one fell swoop. Severus had to massage his tired, early-risen eyes as he tried to put those unsavory images out of his mind.

“I didn’t think that she would be here too early,” said Remus, referring to the still missing witch. “I’d bet you anything that Harry and the others have gotten to her and warned her about how nasty this bloody stuff is. If I were her, I would take great care in being tardy.”

“Remus, don’t,” Severus warned. “I know you are trying to help, but the last thing I need right now is misplaced sarcasm.” The Potions master then slunk back into his chair, leaning his elbow on the desktop as he cradled his head, his other hand absentmindedly stroking his round bump. Remus carefully watched his friend out of the corner of his sneaky amber eye. Severus was not feeling well at all that morning. In addition to the tension headache that had been bothering him since the night before, he was now trying to manage an upset stomach and a well-hidden, but nasty case of nerves. The baby wasn’t being of tremendous help either, happily thumping away at Severus’s ribs and kidneys, serving only to worsen Severus’s indigestion. Every little twinge of discomfort stirred up Remus’s own nerves.

“Severus, are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “If you are feeling ill, we don’t have to go now. We can wait a few days.”

“Waiting will only make me feel worse,” said Severus. “I said this to you before, Remus. I just want to go and get this over with. If I don’t, I will surely go mad. In all honesty, I want to get out and down to the station as soon as Rose gets here.”

“If she gets here in the next ten minutes,” Remus backhandedly scoffed. He could feel Severus glaring at him from across the room as the pregnant Potions master attempted to crack his skull with the power of thought.

“She’ll be here,” muttered Severus. “You just wait, she’ll be here.” Remus offered a small sort of smirk, even if it was terribly put on. It seemed rather set in stone, the mood of this day, and already, he could feel his concern hardening into stone in his stomach. Even though Remus had been through great trials in his life, he began to recognize that this day would likely go down as one of his most difficult.

He had just set aside his stirring rod when there was a gentle knock at the door. Severus instantly started to push himself to his feet, but Remus quickly raised a hand to him. “Severus please, rest while you can,” he said. “I’ll get it.” The pregnant wizard eased back down onto creaking wood, and Remus walked over to the old door, opening it just a crack. He briefly peeked out to be sure of their visitor’s identity before he opened in fully, allowing Rose to enter. She was dressed in jeans and a jumper, along with her light wool coat. Her face was long, still bleary-eyed, though she was not inattentive. Brushing wavy locks of red hair over her shoulder, she walked past the simmering cauldron and over to Severus, bending over to accept the light peck he was offering up to her.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said in a near whisper. “Hermione got up with me, and she wouldn’t let me leave until she was satisfied with my packing.”

“No matter,” said Severus. ““You made good enough time. I assume you have everything you need?”

“It’s all right here.” Rose patted the patchwork handbag hanging over her shoulder. Severus and Remus both knew that the ruddy thing had obviously been charmed, and if Hermione was involved, Rose might have been equipped for a trip across the Eurasian landmass if need be. That handbag could probably get Rose to the summit of Everest, for magic’s sake!

“Alright then,” said Remus with a sigh, looking at the clock on Severus’s desk. “Our train out of Hogsmeade leaves at a quarter past five. So Rose, the sooner you drink this potion, the sooner we can leave.” Gripping the soft handles of her bag, Rose walked back to the little table where the cauldron sat and peered over the smoking rim. And not surprisingly, her face contorted in apparent disgust.

“Oh god,” she groaned at the back of her throat, gritting her teeth at the sight of the thick, slimy slop bubbling up at her.

“Not your mother’s Christmas custard, is it?” Remus cheeked lightly, but Rose’s expression did not shift. “Come now, Rose; you recently studied this potion in Severus’s class.”

“Studied it, yes, but I’ve never actually seen it. Harry and the others failed to mention that it looked like mud mixed with stagnant marsh water.” Rose stared at the Polyjuice for a few short moments longer, and then let out a low, guttural groan. “Guys, do I really have to drink that?”

“Unfortunately, you must,” said Severus. He once again tried to lift his heavy, pregnant body off the seat of his chair, and Rose found her opening. She whisked over to him, and with a bit of leverage, she helped Severus up until he was steadily on his feet. The Potions master then turned his attention to Remus. “Do you have the hairs?”

“Right here,” replied Remus. The werewolf reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a little glass vial containing long, dark strands. He held it up to show his companions. “You were right, Severus. It was a great idea to have lunch with Cassandra. That woman sheds like a Persian cat.”

Standing between them, Rose kept looking back and forth, quite discouraged. “Um…Severus, Remus, it isn’t that comforting to know that I have to drink Professor Wicker’s hair.”

“Rose,” said Severus, resting a hand about his young lover’s neck. “If there was another way of going about this, we would take it. But unfortunately, we don’t have a choice. Either you drink Wicker’s hair or you stay behind.”

To Remus, the look on Rose’s pale face was almost indescribable, not unlike her feelings at the moment, no doubt. But soon enough, the perplexity melted into a mask of surrender. At Severus’s nod, Remus uncorked the vial and emptied the hairs into the cauldron. The brew hissed and turned an odd shade of purple. Rose looked on, supposing that mauve-ish raspberry tasted better than marsh mud. Remus then ladled some of the chunky potion into a waiting goblet and turned back to Rose.

“Now Rose,” he began. “Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this, because once we leave Hogwarts, we won’t be able to get you back undetected.” As uncertain as she appeared, Rose gave him a firm nod and accepted the goblet.

“Remus,” said Severus, leaning over his desk to stretch out his aching back. “Make sure the door to the loo is open, just for good measure.” Remus obliged with a terse nod, but as soon as she put two and two together in her head, Rose spun around on her heels to face the Potions master.

“Severus,” she said in almost a squeak. “You really don’t mean to say that this is going to make me sick, do you?”

“I could lie and say differently, but yes, there is that possibility. However, I wouldn’t worry too much. You wouldn’t be the first to vomit after drinking Polyjuice Potion.”

“He’s right,” said Remus. “I knew plenty of people who got sick when they drank it for the first time. We actually used to brew this in class when we were at school. I don’t remember, Severus, how many people colored the floor that day?”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I seem to recall five, but really Remus, I don’t remember. That was over twenty years ago.” The clock suddenly chimed half past the four o’clock hour, and feeling the weight of time pressing on them, the two wizards looked to the witch holding the goblet.

Rose looked at the potion, almost second guessing. But it wasn’t until she looked at Severus to see an encouraging nod that she made up her mind completely. Breathing deeply, Rose put up her dukes, prepared her taste buds, and slowly took a long sip. She had to squeeze her eyes shut against the awful taste, but she forced herself to swallow each disgusting mouthful. She grabbed her stomach in an attempt to prevent the inevitable revolt. Then there was a crash and a thud as the goblet and Rose’s handbag hit the floor. Rose bolted for the open bathroom door with a hand over her mouth. She grabbed hold of the sink for support. From behind, she heard Severus’s voice in the doorway.

“Hang on, Rosie! It will stop, just keep it down! You’re alright.” Rose felt like she was choking on her own sick, completely convinced she wouldn’t keep the bloody stuff down. But after a moment, the shaking and the dry-heaving did indeed stop. Severus then stepped away from the door, turning away to let the potion take its full effect. A few moments later, Cassandra Wicker stepped out of the bathroom.

The fake professor’s face held a look of such amused surprise that it was quite obvious who she really was. Both men also had to silently admit that Cassandra didn’t look half bad in a nineteen year-old’s Muggle clothes. The woman was slightly more shapely than Rose’s natural form, but she filled out those jeans quite well. Remus chewed on his lower lips slightly, not noticing how Severus cocked his brow at him.

Rose stared down at her new hands, and then she turned to look into the mirror behind her for the full reflection. “Alright, this is wicked,” she said breathily, her voice not the slightest bit different. “Holy hell!”

“You like it, darling?” Remus quietly joked, earning himself a nasty stare from Severus.

“Not too shabby, I’ll say that.” Rose’s wandering hands soon found their way to her chest. “So this is what it’s like to have bigger breasts. I look pretty good, don’t I Sev?”

“I believe that is a more appropriate question for Remus,” Severus sneered. Rose raised her newly darkened eyebrows, making Wicker’s doe eyes appear larger, and she asked Remus, “You mean those rumors about you and Professor Wicker were actually true?” Remus shook his head, though he couldn’t stop the blush that stained his cheeks. Severus always had his way with well-placed revenge.

“Ah well…yes Rose, you look fine,” he muttered quickly. “Now we should really think about heading out. That train won’t wait forever. Do you have a cloak with you?”

“I’m already on it.” Rose picked up her handbag and reached in, her arm sinking in up to her elbow. She came back up with her long dark robe in hand. She fastened it around her neck as she once again approached Severus. She rested a hand on his belly, and she glanced up to study his face. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m alright,” Severus sighed. “I just want to get on with this.” Someone tapped his shoulder, and Severus turned to Remus, who was holding out a cloak for him. Severus accepted it without a word, and Remus gave a good nod to himself and his companions.

“Alright, let’s get on it.”

**~HP~**

Rose oversaw the casting of the powerful glamour charm over Severus’s body, and Remus made himself useful by filling up a flask with additional Polyjuice Potion, disposing of the rest with a quick swipe of his wand. Severus for his part allowed them to do it all; he could guess that these two would not be letting him lift a finger any time soon. And by the time the clock struck at a quarter to five, the little troupe was all cloaked and ready to go careening off into the early morning dark. Both the office and the classroom were locked, and thoroughly secured with a few clever charms. This was how they would remain until the master of the dungeons returned. Turning down the corridor, they were gone faster and quieter than any passing ghost.

Remus led the way through the halls as they made their way up to the ground floor, peering around corners and watching out for stray eyes. Thankfully, many of the portraits they passed were still snoring in their frames, and not even the most nocturnal of beings was awake at that predawn hour. Therefore, it was a rather simple escape, easy for one to become too relaxed. The only close encounter they had was with the _actual_ Cassandra Wicker, who in a fit of sleeplessness had wandered down to the kitchens to satisfy a sudden craving for double chocolate biscuits. Quickly, they dashed around the corner before they could be seen, pressing their backs up against the wall. Severus gently pushed Rose further back into the stone, prompting her to pull her hood over her head. They all held their collective breath as they listened to the Muggle-enthusiast witch around the corner exit out the large portrait hole with a sad little sigh before carrying on her sauntering way. It was only after her footsteps ascended up the steps that Remus beckoned them further.

There was no one in the entrance hall to see them off, as per Severus’s request. There wasn’t even anyone to push open the grand doors for them. Ignoring the low, guttural groan of the ancient wood, they stepped out into the darkness. The sounds of birds and other early risers seemed to be swept away on the eerie wind, further smothered by the distant rumbles of thunder. At the bottom of the steps, a single carriage sat in waiting, unmanned except for the grim Thestral at the harness. All three of them groaned internally; Dumbledore knew about the nature of this journey, and none of them needed to be reminded of it. But needless to say, this was their only way off of the grounds. Rose hopped in first, and once Severus was inside and seated comfortably, Remus shut the little door, and he knocked on the carriage wall behind his head. They started down the path almost immediately.

He noticed how Rose started stroking Severus’s forearm as the weary Potions master gazed out the window.

Hogsmeade station proved to be a bigger challenge. As the only other train to be leaving that morning was the Hogwarts Express, the platform was not as empty as they might have hoped. Shadowy figures were hunched over on benches, while others were perched against walls. They drew their hoods, not wanting to be recognized, and they kept their fair distance until everyone else’s business was attended to. Finally, just as the black sky was beginning to lighten, they saw their chance. Across the platform they dashed, holding their hoods securely over their faces, dodging the windows they passed by. Remus ushered his two travelling mates through the small car door before climbing on himself.

They found a small compartment in the end car, which was about the time when Remus and Severus started to notice strands of red hair peeking out from under Rose’s hood. With barely a flinch, the werewolf shepherded the couple inside, and he drew the shades over the glass panes of the windows and door. They settled into the seats, hard and uncomfortable though they were, and already, they could tell that this would be one long trip to London. Severus crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Rose, shaking her head to fluff out her changing hair. Another minute and a few odd grimaces later, all traces of Cassandra Wicker were gone. Feeling very much herself again, Rose shed her cloak and settled into Severus’s side, resting on his shoulder. Severus just looked out the window as the train began to pull out of Hogsmeade.

**~HP~**

In all his life, Severus had never been drawn so deeply into himself than on that long, quiet train ride. He did not want to talk to anyone. He barely even wanted to think. All he could wrap his mind around was watching the world go by outside thin, fiberglass windows. He had once wondered what it felt like to travel to one’s own execution, and to be perfectly frank with himself, it probably wasn’t far off from how he was feeling that morning.

Watching the sky turn a muted gray, the exhausted Potions master found himself slipping into what could only be described as a waking coma. He hardly paid attention to what his friend and his lover were doing or saying, which wasn’t very much to begin with. For hours, he listened to Remus discuss their plans further with Rose, like what they would do once they got into London, and which train they would need to catch from there. The only acknowledgement they would get was him taking the light snacks that were periodically offered to him from Rose’s handbag. He hardly even recognized how much the baby was moving inside him; he could only guess that the little one could sense his grim emotions, and he or she was trying to help in the only way that they could. No, all of it was just a blur. All that existed in his mind was their final destination.

He seriously questioned his courage, and if he could actually face Lily’s death for everything that it was.

Severus briefly looked away from the window and the passing fields to look down at Rose, whose head now rested in his lap. In the time that had passed, both she and Remus had given in to their early-rising tiredness, and they took the opportunity to get a little sleep. Severus however could not be allowed this small relief, not by his own will at least. There would be no rest for him until this day was over, and as he turned to see the large drops of rain beginning to pelt the windowpane, he saw that it was only going to get longer.

**~HP~**

After too many hours of bumpy, pain-inducing travel, several cheap, meager meals, and enough haggling with Muggles to drive them all into madness, Severus, Rose, and Remus finally approached the sleepy little village of Godric’s Hollow. Though they had managed to hail a Muggle taxi to take them from the train platform through the rainy hills, they requested that they be dropped off just outside of town. Luckily, the rain had seemed to let up for the time, though it was liable to return. While they let Rose handle the cabbie’s payment, Severus and Remus looked upon their surroundings, and they both felt the same weight settling in their stomachs. Just being there was unsettling, in the saddest of ways. Rose was quick to settle business, and she was soon back at Severus’s side. After watching the taxi disappear into the distance, Remus beckoned them onward, and they started walking.

The two wizards and the witch walked close together down the narrow roads. The air was thick with moisture after the day’s many brief cloud bursts, and it had that lush, sweet smell of new rain. Rose took in that smell, a small comfort to her on such a gloomy journey. She clung to Severus’s arm in spite of herself. But Severus seemed miles away as he stared down the road, and he swallowed away the lump forming in his throat. Feeling her heart knot up, Rose let her hand run down his arm and laced their fingers together. She smiled to herself when she felt him squeeze back.  

Next to them, Remus watched with quiet awe. This was probably the first time they had the freedom to hold hands openly.

There wasn’t much noise or signs of life. This didn’t come as a surprise to them in the evening. And of course, they all felt better that there wasn’t anyone around to potentially recognize them. Though it was common knowledge that there was magical presence in the village, there wasn’t a way of telling exactly who was living there at the time. They couldn’t even be sure that there wasn’t any family of Rose’s residing in one of these little cottages. Rose however was quick to refute that claim. Given the Beckett family wealth, Irish heritage, and Slytherin history, she highly doubted that such a possibility could exist. Of course, she had to add, she wouldn’t have known the difference anyway.

“I’ve never met any of my Wizarding relatives, other than my father, that is,” she explained. Remus hinted that perhaps it might be a good idea to throw her hood back up. Rose responded with a good shake of the head. “No one knows me here. I doubt anyone even knows my family here. I think it’s safe to show my face.”

They followed the roads, hoping they would eventually lead them into town. Remus knew the village, but it had been a great many years since he had returned to visit his friends’ graves. It only added the slightest of pressures when he realized that the others were relying on his memory. He did his best to put on a fake confidence, and he briefly wondered what would happen if he let the wolf take over for a little while.

As they came up on what would appear to be an ordinary, overgrown vacant lot, all three slowed to a stop to see a dilapidated cottage appear before their charmed eyes. Even if they knew it was likely being held up by magic alone, it was still strangely moving to see the remains of the Potter home. Letting go of Severus’s clammy hand, Rose stepped forward to read the terribly graffitied sign she had heard much so about. She leaned on the shabby fence and shook her head.

“That’s such a shame,” she said. “A monument of our time, and people scribble over it.”

“Only someone so young would say such a thing,” lamented Severus as he tried to arch his shoulders with a hand for support. His back was beginning to bother him again. Rose saw this and was once again at his side, pressing a warm hand to his lower spine. She felt the need to apologize to her heartbroken boyfriend; only four months older than Harry, she didn’t know quite how else to think about this part of the Wizarding world’s greatest tale. She took hold of his hand again and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Severus sighed, staring up at the fading clouds, revealing the deep blue twilight above. “Tired…”

“Maybe you should rest for a little while,” said Remus.

“No, I’m fine,” said Severus, stepping ahead of Rose. “Let’s just go.” Neither witch nor werewolf liked the sound of that, but they did follow the expectant father away from the ramshackle structure.  

They eventually did stop by a short wall a ways down the lane, giving Severus time off his feet. Rose sat beside him, massaging circles into his back and resisting the urge to touch that hidden baby-bump. They had done a good job at hiding their magic and she didn’t want to be the idiot to mess it up. Remus, meanwhile, found himself with the rare male privilege of rummaging through Rose’s handbag to find her hot tea thermos. But in the end, it was for nothing because Severus refused the tea, even with their strong urgings. Before they could force him back down, Severus was on his feet again. He simply said that he could handle himself for a little longer; rest could wait until their trip back to Hogwarts. Remus and Rose exchanged concerned looks before joining him.

It wasn’t very long before they found themselves in the village square, and Remus seemed rather pleased with that fact. They weren’t far off now. All three of them glanced about the area, taking in the sights. Godric’s Hollow was so quaint, and the moonlight added an enchanting glow. Any other time, and all three of them might have been looking at this place as a potential home, a place where they could settle down and raise their families. But that thought was merely a dream that night.

They all immediately noticed the statue in the middle of the square, a war memorial of sorts. And as they drew nearer, they watched as it slowly took the shape of three people, three very familiar people. They looked up at the man with overly curly hair, the beautiful young woman, and the cheery child in her arms, all immortalized in stone. Rose stood before the base, a somber stare escaping her eyes.

“She really was a great witch, wasn’t she?”

There was no immediate response from her wizard companions as they too were entranced by the monument. It was Remus who broke the silence. “Yes…yes she was. And I’m reminded of that every time I see her face. I have said this to Harry a few times, but it would have done you all good to know her, James too.”

At the mention of the elder Potter’s name, Rose looked over her shoulder at Severus. His pale face held an expression that betrayed every bit of sadness she knew he was keeping inside. “Sev, are you alright?” she softly asked as she walked back to him. Severus just nodded, doing little to convince Rose. She wrapped her arms around his torso and tucked her head underneath his chin. Severus held her close as he rested his head on top of hers, finding comfort in her embrace. The baby also gave him a soft stroke inside.

“It will be alright,” Rose murmured. “We’re here for you, love.” Severus was still disturbingly quiet as Remus pointed them in them in the direction of the church.

There wasn’t a sound on the air as they finally came up to the small cemetery, Remus pushing the gate open in front of them. Before stepping forward, Severus looked at Rose, who gave his hand a supporting squeeze. Once they were inside the walls, they split up and walked down separate rows of graves. For a fair few minutes, they wandered among the headstones, taking in the names of Wizarding past. Remus in particular seemed to take his sweet time in leading them to their ultimate destination.

It was Rose who made the discovery.

“Severus,” she softly called. Severus looked up from the headstone he had been observing and walked over to where his lover waited, her face long and pale. He then looked down at the white marble before them and felt his heart sink into his stomach as he read the name engraved there.

_Lily Potter_

_Born 30 January 1960_

_Died 31 October 1981_

The stone was so pristine that it was almost impossible to think it had been there for eighteen years. Someone had taken great care to see that its eternal residents received all the respect they deserved. It was also clear that they were not the first to visit that day. A wreath of white lilies already rested against the headstone, rather appropriately actually.

“Looks like Harry’s already been here,” said Rose. Severus felt her take his hand as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Take as long as you need. Remus and I will be nearby.” She then let go and walked away, leaving Severus alone before the Potters.

Severus struggled to keep control of his emotions as he looked down at Lily’s final resting place. Rather unsure of what he should be doing, he looked back to his mates. Remus stood by the gate, his back to Severus, keeping a lookout. And Rose had taken a place sitting on the wall, watching the stars that now glittered sparsely through the sky. They both were quite intent on letting him have his privacy.

He hesitated as the knot in his throat continued to threaten his breathing. He had been preparing himself for this moment for days, but he still stood there with trembling hands and rattled breath. He was a grown man, a war veteran at that, and yet he felt like nothing more than a frightened child. As though to jab him into momentum, the baby kicked him hard in his ribs. Severus sighed as he rubbed his concealed belly, and he finally relaxed just enough to take orders when given. Seeing that he would be there for some time, he slowly and carefully eased himself down onto the ground, resting his back against someone else’s stone. He stared at Lily’s name and breathed deeply, searching his deep mind for ever silent words.

_‘Hello Lily…oh god, what do I say? I’d bet you would be surprised to see me here. I cannot say that I’m pleased about it; I suppose I should have done this a long time ago. I admit that I never saw the need and simply avoided it…for all of these years…eighteen years, and it is still no easier to do this. It was hard enough to hear about your death. But to be here…to see your stone…I can hardly bear it. All this day, I have been dreading the very moment when I would be sitting here in this graveyard. But it’s become clear to me that I have to do this, for my own sake. I might have been torturing myself into madness for all this time. It’s time for the madness to end._

_‘I still don’t know if I really did see you all those months ago when I stood on the brink of death. I don’t know if you truly are the reason I am alive tonight. But I cannot help myself, I like to believe that I did and you are. You were my reason for living these long years, and truthfully, you still are. But whether it was real or not, you were certainly right about something. You said that I would be happy. And you know what? I am. I’m nearly forty and I have never in my life been happier than I am now. Lily, I’m in love. You said that someone in this life would love me, and I’ve found her. And ah, what I would give for you to be in a position to meet her. She’s your son’s age, but she’s just perfect, everything I could have wanted. After you, I never thought I could ever share my life with someone so wonderful. Now I can’t foresee a life without Rose. She’s even with me now, in this place. But what’s more than that? I’m expecting my first child. I will be giving birth in a few short weeks. I must confess, I have had my moments when I wondered how you would have reacted to my pregnancy. And every time, I come to the same conclusion. Once you picked yourself up off the floor, I like to believe you would have been thrilled. But what good is a guess? If anything, you died hating me as much as the man lying beside you.’_

Severus felt his chest tighten with terrible force as he glanced at the name engraved beside Lily’s. God, how he wanted to hate that man and everything that he stood for! If he had the strength and leverage to get to his feet, he would probably take great pleasure in dancing on Potter’s grave. But the long dead wizard had no bearing on his being there. He realized that in shifting his attention to Lily’s husband, he was only buying more time for himself. He was not doing what they had come here for. He swallowed hard.

_‘I know that we both had our choices, and you could not live with mine. You left me behind and didn’t look back. But words cannot describe the guilt I was left with because of that. Lily, you were everything to me for so long, and if it hadn’t been for me, perhaps you would be alive now. Not a day goes by where I do not think of you. Every time I look at your boy, I think of you. I think of your sacrifice, my mistake. It’s my fault that you are dead, and I couldn’t save you. You could say that I’m mad, and I just might be, but I could have stood between you and the Dark Lord if it meant you would live. And yet I couldn’t do that! God, why couldn’t I do that?!’_

His breath began to hitch and his eyes burned. This time, Severus did little to fight off the tears as they ran down his face. He thought he heard Rose’s voice somewhere, but he could not turn to her. He had known that this would happen, and at this point, he just couldn’t hold back anymore.

_‘I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry that I put myself before you. I’m sorry that I ever told him about that damned prophecy. I’m sorry that you had to die when you did nothing to deserve it! Why did it have to be you? You were the only friend I ever had, why not me before you? You were the only friend I had…you were so much more than that and I let you down. I would give anything to hear your voice again, if only to know that I have your forgiveness. Oh, who am I kidding? I would die to hear you say that you loved me. You did your best when we were young, but that was all that I ever wanted. I loved you then, and I still love you now. I just wish you had the chance to know that in life. But I realize that all I’ve been doing is chasing a long dead dream. I cannot continue with trying to move on with my life with you hanging over my head. I cannot let my love for you interfere with my love for Rose, a love I cannot bear to lose. To think that I almost drove her away because of you…’_

Severus composed himself, taking in deep gasps of rain-stained air. He wiped away the cooling tears with the cuff of his sleeve, and his child gave a slow roll as he allowed his body to relax. The movement was a welcome relief, and both of Severus’s hands came to rest on his abdomen.

_‘I will always love you, Lily. You were a beautiful person, and your memory will stay with me until the day I die. But I’m through with putting my life on hold in your name. Far too many years have passed, and it’s finally time to live life for myself. I’m finally ready to go on with the life that you promised me, a life with Rose and my future child. I hope that somewhere, you can hear me. I hope that everything I have done is somehow able to be forgiven. And I hope that you will look down and are pleased with what you see. You gave me the chance to live, and I won’t let you down, not again.’_

There was a rustling behind him, and Severus looked up at Rose’s face. She was slowly approaching with a handful of white roses she had conjured up. Her blue eyes had faded from their brilliant brightness, but it was hard to tell if the waxing night was to blame. She knelt down beside him.

“Figured that we should leave something for them,” she said. She gathered together most of the flowers and laid them in front of Lily. Those remaining were left for James, to which Severus responded with a weak frown. “It’s only right. Do you want me to go?”

Severus shook his head. “No Rose, I think I’ve done all that I needed to do.” Before he could prevent it, another tear slid down a pale cheek. Severus felt Rose wipe it away with a gentle touch. Her arms came around his shoulders to gently pull him in closer.

“Let it out, love,” she whispered. Severus buried his face in her shoulder, desperately not wanting to give into the pain racking his soul. But the image of a smiling, green-eyed witch flooded into his every thought, and he realized what he had just done. It was for everyone’s own good, and he knew that well. Why did it have to hurt this much?

Under Rose’s hand, Severus’s body tensed up as he sobbed into her shoulder. Absentmindedly, his arm came up to hold her tightly, and he clenched his jaw against the slightest noise. He felt Rose stroking his hair, rubbing circles into his back. She was so gentle, yet so strong, even if her chest heaved with gapping breath. Severus had soaked through Rose’s jumper when he felt drops hitting the top of his head. He lifted his red-stained eyes to see the wet trails down Rose’s freckled cheek. She did away with them with a quick hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a certain break in her voice. She allowed Severus to rest his head against her again, feeling every tremor and sob. “Oh I know, I know. It’s hard.”

“Rose, it’s more than just hard,” Severus moaned. “I just gave up my reason for living! It was her that kept me going when I wanted to give it all up, and I –,”

“She would have wanted it that way, Sev. Lily would have wanted to see you happy, and she certainly wouldn’t have been pleased with you sacrificing your own happiness for her.”

It was almost like Rose wasn’t there because Severus could barely take in what she was saying. Grief was overwhelming every fiber of his being, grief that should have died out long ago, and it hurt. The weight that pressed down on his soul was enough to crush a boulder; no man should ever be made to live like with such pain, especially a pain of his own making.

“Shhh,” Rose whispered past trembling lips. “It’s going to get better, I promise.”

“Just kill me, Rose.” Now Severus could barely speak past the hitched breaths and hiccups. “If you really love me, you will show mercy and put me out of my misery.”

“Oh fuck, no!” Rose suddenly growled. She pulled away from Severus enough to take his face in her hands, and she locked eyes with him as she ignored the stinging of her tears. “I didn’t come all the way out here just to give up on you. Understand Severus, I know how you feel right now. That woman was everything to you, but your life-force is not bound to her. You’re not alone anymore, love. You have me, you have Remus, you have all those people at Hogwarts that care about you. And by this time next month, you will have a beautiful baby. That’s your life now.”

“I know,” wept Severus. “But none of that would have been possible if not for Lily. How can I possibly leave that behind like it’s nothing?”

Rose took in a hard gasp, firmly gritting her jaw against the shaking, trying desperately to give up her strength to her inconsolable lover. “I went through the same thing, Severus. I lost my best friend, and the world had ended for me. I remember telling you how difficult it was to live without him. I wanted to throw myself off a cliff and drown in the ocean, but I survived to see another day, no matter how painful it was. And coming back to Hogwarts without him was the best thing that could have ever happened to me because it brought me to you. You can’t give up so easily, love. You’re stronger than that.”

Having run out of things to say, all Rose could do now was to pull Severus back into her embrace, allowing him to rest against her as he released all of those suffocating emotions. He shook in her arms, no matter how much she massaged his back and shoulders. And to save herself from this despair, Rose tilted her face to the sky, and she kept her eyes to the stars sparkling through the clouds above her, the very stars that had been giving her strength all the night, all the year!

So this was how they remained, crumbled on the cold wet ground, drowning in melancholy. They remained there for an eternity, far longer than they ever thought themselves possible. But Rose made no move to stop this. Severus needed to get this horrendous anguish out, and she contented herself to watch the clouds creeping over again with the returning storm. As she started to feel light drips on her face, Severus lifted his head up from her chest.

“That’s it,” Rose whispered, wiping away the remains of his tears. “Just take it easy now. How are you feeling?”

“I’m so tired, Rose,” Severus’s low voice rattled. “I’m just so tired.”

“I know, love,” comforted Rose. She heard a low rustle through the grass, and she looked up to see Remus slowly walking towards them. She took a breath to compose herself before speaking again. “What do we do now?”

“We need to find a place to spend the night,” said Remus. “At this hour, the journey back to Hogwarts is just too far, and he’s exhausted as it is. He needs time to rest.”

“Well, is there an inn where we can stay nearby?” asked Rose, but before Remus could answer, Severus grabbed hold of Rose’s jumper, attracting her attention back to his worn out eyes.

“No,” he muttered. “We need to leave. I can’t stay here a minute longer.”

“But where else can we go?”

“I don’t care, just get me out of here.” Severus slumped over again in his exhaustion, and Rose silently cursed the world at this difficult plight. Severus couldn’t take anymore long travel, and yet he couldn’t Apparate while he was still with child, nor could he let her whisk him away in the blink of an eye. The fates it seemed were determined to make all this more difficult than it needed to be.

“Do you think we could get back to London and get a room at the Leaky Cauldron?” she asked Remus, but the other wizard just shook his head, telling her, “We would be too easily recognized there, and we don’t have enough Polyjuice Potion to conceal your identity for that long. We need to go somewhere where no one would suspect us.”

“We need to go someplace where Severus feels comfortable,” Rose reminded, nodding her head to the pregnant man beside her. She was about to collapse against a nearby headstone when suddenly, the thought came to her like a bolt out of the clear blue. “We could go to Spinner’s End.”

Remus pondered that for a short moment, speaking aloud half to himself. “Hmm…I hadn’t thought about that. It would be a shorter journey to Yorkshire than back down to London.”

“It would make tomorrow’s journey back to Hogwarts shorter as well,” said Rose. “But really, Remus, I think he just needs the comforts of his own home. What he needs is a warm bed and a good meal to set himself right again.”

“I could not agree with you more, Rose,” said Remus, and he offered a hand to help the young Gryffindor off the ground. The two of them then turned to Severus, and very carefully, they helped lift the pregnant Potions master to his feet together. Severus allowed this concerned coddling, all of his energy spent. Remus left the cemetery to go call for another taxi, leaving Rose and Severus alone in the steadily increasing rain. Rose reached for her wand, and she effortlessly transfigured a twig into a functioning umbrella.

“Come on,” she said, squeezing Severus’s weak hand. “Let’s go home.”

“Yes…” said Severus in barely a whisper, his deep, forlorn eyes drifting away from Rose. “You go on ahead and find Remus. I’ll be along in a minute.” Rose really did not like the idea of leaving Severus alone, but guilt had broken her strength of will. Giving one last look at the white stone, she swallowed hard and handed Severus the umbrella. She then stepped away toward the creaking gate, pulling her hood over her head.

Standing in the cold rain, Severus once again stared down at Lily’s grave, watching droplets fall onto the petals of the white flowers at his feet and over the chiseled name that would forever haunt his memory. Paralyzed…he felt so paralyzed by what he knew to be inevitable. Once he turned his back, it would be over. All of his troubles would be forgotten, and his slate would be wiped clean. Rose would forgive him now, or at least she would one day, he hoped. But every new beginning starts with an end, he knew deep down. He really was leaving his life behind in that village, and even with the world clear ahead of him, with love and a newborn baby leading the way, he would never be rightfully whole again.

He looked back to the gate, where Rose’s hooded silhouette stood in the rain. Her back was straight, but with a certain wilt of a long exhaustion in her shoulders. She was waiting for him. In that moment, Severus realized that he could no longer deny her – or himself – any longer. Hunching over slightly, he reached out and laid his fingers on his beloved friend’s stone, and he let them glide across the marble as he walked.

He held a breath when they slipped off that smooth surface for the last time.

**~HP~**

As soon as they reached the empty, but safe haven of the little council house at the end of Spinner’s End, Rose ushered Severus up the stairs to the bedroom, to the bed she knew was waiting for him, and he collapsed the moment his body touched the rumbled duvet. He didn’t even have the energy to undress, even if his clothes were all soaked from the rain that was now beating down on the roof. That left Rose to disrobe him, which she was more than willing to do. As gently as it was lovingly, she carefully peeled back each piece of stretched black fabric until Severus was down to his boxers. Once she was finished, he promptly crawled underneath the sheets, letting out a sigh of relief that was like beautiful music to Rose’s ear. Stroking Severus’s palled cheek, Rose placed a generous kiss on that clammy forehead as she tucked him into bed, tugging the duvet to cover his heavy pregnant belly. She then turned to fetch her handbag sitting by the door, reaching in to grab her dressing gown from the charmed depths.

As she stripped herself of her sodden clothes, she kept looking back to Severus, and she smiled to see how he had finally relaxed for the first time in days. He was even caressing his stomach again, like he recognized that the worst was behind him now, and the baby was his main focus once again. It was then that Rose knew she had done the right thing; Severus couldn’t have done this without her, and it likely would have destroyed him if she had left him for good.

Rose was just coming down the stairs to cross the sitting room when the front door abruptly swung open, letting in a great gust of wind and rain. Remus stumbled through the entrance way, and he leaned against the door to shut it behind him. He was soaked to the doggy bone, and in his hand, he gripped a single plastic shopping bag.

“That took less time than I thought,” said Rose, adjusting the tie of her dressing gown around her waist.

“That’s what happens when there is only one corner market within walking distance. Consider ourselves lucky that it’s an all-nighter,” Remus griped, shaking the water from his hair. Rose couldn’t help but smirk at this very canine behavior, even if Remus didn’t realize it himself.

“So did you get what we needed?” she asked, gesturing at the bag.

“I got what I could find,” replied Remus, crossing the sitting room to the kitchen. Rose followed unquestioningly. “I got the bread, the milk, and the butter, but there wasn’t much in the way of protein. I looked up and down that whole store for anything substantial, and there wasn’t so much as a simple pack of sandwich meat! All I could find was refrigerated bacon.” He pulled the chilled, sweaty package out to show Rose, who took it from him with a dubious sort of look.

“It’s not what I would have preferred,” she sighed. “But it’ll have to do. Lucky for us, Severus has actually been craving bacon the last few weeks.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess,” said Remus, rather unsure of what he should be saying. Frankly, there were a million other things he could have said to that, but they couldn’t pass his lips.

Chilled to his very core, Remus was beginning to feel rather like a failure. He had promised Severus that he would help him that day, but all he had done was back them into a corner of horrendous Muggle transport, and now he couldn’t feed any of them properly. Rose however disagreed; Remus had done all he could for Severus, as had she. As far as they were concerned, they had done what they had set out to accomplish, and now they could all begin to heal.

Rose had turned to tear open the bacon package when she advised Remus to get out of his wet clothes. But there was a slight problem with that; unlike Rose, who had prepared herself for an assortment of outcomes, Remus hadn’t had the mind to bring an extra set of robes. The result of this little mishap ended up being the embarrassed DADA professor having to remove bits of clothing, one by one, and drying them manually with his wand. Rose, to her credit, did not bat an eyelash. It wasn’t like it was her first time seeing a half-naked man in front of her.

“So how is he?” asked Remus, standing at the kitchen table in his boxer briefs, blowing hot air over his soggy trousers on the table. It was a question that he had been meaning to ask, but had obviously done his best in putting it off.

“He’s completely exhausted,” said Rose as she flipped over the sizzling bacon strips in the pan in front of her. In her own fatigue, she had forgone her usual magical manipulations, and instead chose to cook with the old tongs she dug out of a drawer. A light sheen of perspiration gleamed on her forehead over the heat of the stove. “God Remus, what were we thinking? I’ve never seen Severus so helpless. It kills me to look at him every time I go up there.”

Remus sighed. “Trust me when I say this, Rose. You have not yet seen Severus at his absolute worst. You were fortunate enough to not be there in those days after Lord Voldemort’s defeat. I know he must feel like death right now, but he will live through this one.”

“You could have fooled me.” Rose nonchalantly lifted the fried strips of bacon out of the oily pan and laid them to rest beside the stove before peeling out four more from the packaging. Nothing was to be wasted that night, and the food would be split between the three of them, which was a shame as there only so many things that can be done with bread and bacon.

“And how have you been fairing?” asked Remus.

“I’ve seen better days,” Rose said on a sigh. “I forgot what it was like to be this tired.”

“Yes, and you were only an inch from death mere weeks ago.” Remus let his lips twitch into a smirk, just swallowing the soft snigger.

“C’mon, don’t make this about me,” said Rose, flinching as drops of hot grease caught her on the wrist.

“Well Rose, this wasn’t exactly an easy day for you either. If I had watched my lover break down for loving someone else, I wouldn’t be quite right either.”

“I didn’t do this for me.” And that will be the end of it, Rose silently added to herself. She glanced to the side at Remus, who seemed to get the message. He simply turned his face to the table, keen to let Rose have the peace she desired.

By the time Remus had gotten his trousers back on, Rose had finished cooking the entire pack of bacon, and was now laying the hot strips out to cool. Wanting to be of some help, Remus volunteered to prepare the bread and set places at the table. He tried to reach over Rose’s arm to grab a slice of bacon, but he jumped back at the hard swat he received from his young companion. Severus liked his bacon cooked a certain way, Rose told him, and that meant his plate had to be set first. And given that she was the expert on pregnant male food preferences, Remus was glad to step back and let Rose take care of that. With Remus watching from behind, Rose selected five of the most evenly cooked slices, and she laid them crisscross out on the untoasted bread before sandwiching them together. She then poured out a tall glass of milk, grabbed the plate and sandwich, and she set off for the stairs. Remus watched her all the while from the kitchen archway.

The bedroom door was still open when Rose tiptoed her way back up the stairs, much to the relief of her full hands. But that of course didn’t mean that Severus couldn’t be disturbed. He was probably already long asleep by that time. But he still needed to eat something, if only for the baby. Barely making a sound, Rose stuck out her elbow to push the door open.

“You know, I wouldn’t have anything if it hadn’t been for her.”

Rose froze outside the door, gripping the plate and glass a little harder at the sound of Severus’s voice. She had heard Severus talk to himself before, mostly over a smoking cauldron or a steamy _Prophet_ article. But this sounded nothing like anything she had heard before. Letting her concern and curiosity get the better of her, Rose pressed herself against the wall to look in on Severus through the crack in the door.

“I grieved for Lily for eighteen long years,” the expectant wizard muttered, his voice still weary, low, and somber. He was still lying in bed, but propped up more on his side, stroking his eight-months-pregnant middle tenderly. It dawned on Rose that he was actually talking to his unborn baby, something he had never done before, and she held back the little gasp of surprise. Not wanting to interrupt possibly the most intimate thing she had seen of Severus, she sat back and contented to listen.

“And yet now I see that if she hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be living the life I have now. If Lily had lived, I would not have seen the end of the war. I would have died, no one would have cared, and no one would have done anything to stop it. But Lily…Lily saw that there was more to me than met the eye, even in death. She came to me from the other side, and she stopped me from dying that night. She gave me that second chance to live, promised me unconditional love. Now I have Rose, I have a few friends, and most importantly, I have you. Of course, there was no way you were going to let me forget about you, the way you’ve been kicking me all bloody day.

“Rose was right, you are my life now. I went from never thinking I would have children to being blessed in the most bizarre of ways. And by God, I will do everything in my power to live up to it. Lily taught me how to love, and because of that, your life will be one worth coveting. You will be happier than I ever was as a child, and you shall want for nothing. And if it is in the cards, you will know all the love that Rose…your mum has to give. I don’t know if she will ever really forgive me for what I put her through today. I don’t even know what lies ahead of us in the next few days. But of one thing I am certain; there is no one on this earth that I would have as your mother. Lily saved me from death, but Rose gave me the strength to keep going, and no one is more deserving of her love than you, my child.”

A knot in her throat, Rose could have almost been driven back to tears to hear those words on Severus’s lips. How could she know a man so deeply and intimately, and yet still never see this soft affection, the last beautiful traces of innocence buried by age? She decided she had heard enough, and very gently, Rose pushed the door open with a whispered, “Severus…?” The Potions master didn’t move, but he did tilt his head in her direction. “I thought you would be asleep.”

“I couldn’t,” Severus replied. Rose crossed the room to his side of the bed, and he noticed the plate she carried. “What’s that?”

“Supper,” said Rose, showing him the bacon sandwich. “It’s not much, I’m afraid, but it’s something.”

Severus took one look at the food and the glass of milk, and he gave a slow shake of the head. “I’m not that hungry.”

“I didn’t think you would be, but I’ll leave it here for you. There’s no rush.” Rose set the plate down on Severus’s bedside table. She tried to get him to take the milk at least, but again, she received a shake of refusal. That too was left to the side. Letting out a soft sigh, Rose reached out to touch her lover’s swollen stomach. “Has the baby been keeping you company?”

“Of course,” said Severus. “My child is relentless in its mission to keep me preoccupied.”

“Well, someone needs to be.” Rose rubbed small circles over her lover’s belly, and she leaned down to place a feather-soft kiss on his cheek. It would be wrong of her to mention how she had overheard his quiet chat with the little one. After all, there were just some moments when privacy should be absolute, no matter what might be said. And what moment was more worthy than that of a father with his future child? Rose gently brushed locks of lank black hair out of Severus’s face, smoothing her fingertips down his jawbone. “Do you want me to stay with you, Sev?”

“No Rose, I’m fine,” replied Severus as he rested his hand atop the smaller one on his bump. “You just go and rest for a while. You look shattered.”

“Are you sure?”

“I will be alright, dear,” Severus reaffirmed. “I just need to be alone for a while.” He glanced up to give Rose a certain look; it wasn’t desperate, but it wasn’t inconsequential either. And that was all that Rose needed to see for her to make up her mind. Frankly, it wasn’t that difficult of a decision to begin with. Carefully, Rose took her hand back, straightened up, and then started back toward the door.

“Alright,” she murmured. “Just be sure to eat some of that, you hear?” Severus mumbled incoherently into his pillow, and Rose accepted that as an answer. As she approached the open doorway, she turned back to look at her tired, forlorn, pregnant lover. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, it’s alright to leave me.” Severus spoke slowly and with a gravity of solemnity. But at the same time, he was calm and relaxed, and Rose felt as though she could believe him. And that was how she would leave him that night. Grasping the door molding, she went to step out into the short hallway. But before she disappeared, she turned to Severus one last time and whispered, “I love you…”

Severus didn’t respond at first, and a stone of guilt sunk into Rose’s stomach. Did she really have the right to say that after everything they had been through that day? But in spite of that, Severus nestled deeper into the pillow, and he let go of a long sigh.

“I know,” he whispered, and Rose left with a heart no less heavy. She quickly found herself being pulled down by remorse as she descended the creaky stairs into the sitting room, walking past Remus on her way to the kitchen.

“You know, I think he really needed to hear that,” the werewolf said as he followed Rose with his turning head.

“I know,” said Rose, returning with the plate of remaining bacon and freshly toasted bread. “Although, I’m not sure he wanted to hear it from me.”

“Oh Rose, don’t kid yourself. You know what you mean to him. Remember that he went to Godric’s Hollow partly for you. I don’t think he would have bothered if he didn’t love you as much as he does.”

“But he could still just say it,” Rose retorted grimly. She set the plates of breakfast-supper down on the coffee table before helping herself to bacon and buttered toast. She then fell back into Severus’s armchair by the warm fire. Remus shook his head, though not without a small, subtle smirk, and he sat himself down on the sofa to put together his own improvised sandwich.

“Give him some time,” he said, piling bacon onto bread. “He’ll come back around. I actually think he’ll be a lot happier now that this is over.”

“If you say so,” said Rose, and she pulled her knees up to meet her chin. For several long minutes, neither she nor Remus spoke. They simply picked at their plates with barely a crunch or a munch, and the old furniture springs creaked under their bodies. Rose in particular tried her best to imagine a world where no one existed but her. But all her bacon-sweetened wishes for a black abyss were dashed when she heard the sound of Remus’s voice over meager chews and swallows.

“I have to tell you this, Rose,” he said to her. “That was a noble thing you did out there, and very brave actually.”

Rose sank back into her chair, and she sighed deeply. “I told you already, Remus, this isn’t about me. All I did was stand by the man I love in his time of need, what any good girlfriend would do.”

“Not many girlfriends would trek across the country to watch their boyfriends cry over another woman’s grave, especially a woman who might as well have been an old lover.”

“Well, what did you expect for me to do?” Rose irritably asked. “I couldn’t let him do that on his own. This pregnancy has taken him on an emotional roller coaster, I know it has. And after the way he reacted to that row we had –,”

“In Severus’s defense, you did threaten to leave him that night.” Remus cocked his brow in a way that could only remind Rose that she was sitting with her DADA professor. Slipping back into her increasingly minor role as a student, Rose shook her head with somewhat of a huff.

“But I didn’t, and I wasn’t going to after seeing him in such despair. These last few days have been worse than any other I’ve seen with Severus, and that’s saying a lot when you’re dealing with a pregnant man.”

“I’m sure,” said Remus. “But regardless of that, it wouldn’t have been enough just to have me there. It wouldn’t have been enough if Dumbledore himself was there with us. What I saw in that graveyard, that was comfort that he could have only gotten from you.”

Now Rose had to set her plate to the side; the morose feelings that had sapped away her energy were now starting to make her stomach churn, stealing her appetite as well. “He needed me,” she mumbled, though in a way that was almost questioning.

“All he ever wanted throughout this whole mess was just to have you back,” Remus explained. “He needed to make peace with Lily, but he did it as much for you as for himself. And I tell you, Rose; it meant the world to him to have you by his side through the whole thing. Think about it for a minute. Tonight, you helped Severus through the greatest challenge of his life short of giving birth. You made him realize he had to let go, and you made it alright for him in the end.”

“He’s still bloody miserable,” lamented Rose.

“That might be true, but only for now. Severus has always treated his feelings for Lily as a ball and chain, that facing them would be the end of him. But here we sit; he made it through, he’s still alive, and he still has a lovely future to look forward to. And you know what? I think he’s really ready for it now, and he has you to thank. Don’t you see, Rose? You set him free.”

Leaning into her chair’s arm, Rose cradled her head on white knuckles, and she slowly breathed away the sick feeling in her stomach before whispering, “Then why do I feel so lousy?”

Remus sighed. “I think that is simply the nature of these things. It’s never easy to deal with death, even if two decades have passed us by. And I suppose Severus’s grief is your grief as well.”

“But I never knew Lily Potter,” said Rose. Growing anxious, she slid out of her chair and sauntered over to the small window at the front of the house, its panes being violently battered by heavy raindrops. “I don’t really know what their relationship was like. I don’t know what sort of things went on in their minds every time they laid eyes on each other. I don’t even know if Severus ever had his chance to tell her how he felt. I couldn’t be any more detached from this if I wanted to be.”

“You are romantically attached to Severus, Rose,” said Remus. “You’re as involved as the rest of us. And you’re right; we don’t know what really happened all those years ago. I don’t even know, and I was there. But all that remains is that we must let bygones be bygones. Even if Severus did have his chance with Lily, slim though it may be, that lost opportunity didn’t stop him from taking his chance with you. The whole purpose of this day was to let go of what’s been, and we cannot let ourselves succumb to regret. Otherwise, life just would not be worth anything. You know that.”

Rose’s heavy heart again took hold of her, and she lowered herself down onto the small coffee table by the window. She couldn’t look at Remus anymore, instead immersing herself into the rain-blurred world of industrial Yorkshire. The drops of rain that poured down the murky panes served as a grim replacement for the tears that clung to Rose’s fair lashes.

When she decided to go to Godric’s Hollow, it was to help Severus. Rose wanted to show Severus how much she loved him by putting herself in a position that no woman should ever be in. But she cursed the heavens and all who lived under them at the thought that she went with the assumption that she would come out unaffected. No, this day had exhausted her emotions, brought her back to a place she had vowed never to return to again. And now, Remus’s attempts at comfort felt like ice stabbing into her heart. In that moment, Rose could not have felt like a bigger hypocrite. She was giving advice to Severus that she herself could not follow, and Remus was telling her things that she had already rendered useless.

She had her chance once, not so long ago. She had her chance, but she let it slip through her fingers.

**_~Flashback~_ **

_Dante was staring off to the distance when Rose silently crept up behind him, rustling the grass with every step. Their shadows stretched over the hills like great pillars, and their pale faces glowed with the light of the imminent sunset. The castle loomed behind them with all the despair that the two students had welled up in their souls._

_Dumbledore was gone. Almost a full day had passed since the battle that had taken the headmaster from them, and at the hands of a man both Rose and Dante greatly respected. And the sadness of the loss could only be matched by the fear gripping the school. Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts was vulnerable. Their last safety had been stolen away with one heartless curse. Without Dumbledore, they were all prey to the Dark Lord’s unrestrained madness._

_“I trusted him,” said Dante, not turning to look at the approaching Gryffindor. He spoke in an uncharacteristically low voice before Rose had a chance to open her mouth. “He was my Head of House…I trusted him like a father…how…how could he?” Rose swallowed hard, feeling a clench in her stomach. She couldn’t believe that this was her Dante standing before her. His statuesque strength was still there, but emotional trauma had stripped him raw until he teetered on the edge of breaking. In the wake of such a dark victory, it was hard to believe that there was a Slytherin alive who could hurt this much._

_“No one really knew Snape,” she quietly told him. “Who’s to say that he wasn’t working for You-know-who all along?”_

_“I can’t believe he was,” Dante still didn’t turn around. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He wasn’t doing anything to say he was. He wasn’t grooming us to join You-know-who.”_

_“Dante, the man was a Death Eater,” said Rose. “I didn’t want to believe it any more than you do, but we both have to accept it. There is no turning back after you join those ranks. It’s You-know-who or nothing at all.”_

_“It still doesn’t explain how he could look us in the eye, continuing with life, all the while knowing that he was going to murder a man in cold blood.”_

_Rose came to a stop at Dante’s side, and she gently grasped his arm. She looked out across the lake to stare at the mountain horizon. The sky burned a deep red, serving as an ominous reminder of what had happened, what was surely to come. She breathed away the tension forming in her chest, and Dante let out a sigh. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “I just wish it didn’t have to be tonight. This could be the last peaceful sunset we will see at Hogwarts.”_

_“Everything changed last night, didn’t it?” asked Rose, her grip on Dante’s forearm steadily increasing. She didn’t need to be told what Dumbledore’s death would ultimately mean, but she so badly wanted to hear Dante say that they would be alright. She wanted her young love to tell her that their greatest fear was not coming true. But the young man solemnly shook his head, trying not to touch the silver snake on his ring as he wrung it around his finger._

_“I believe we will wake up tomorrow in a different world. With Dumbledore gone, You-know-who will likely come down hard on us. And who knows what could happen then.”_

_“You don’t think they could come here, do you?” said Rose. Dante glanced over his shoulder at the darkening castle towers. “Hogwarts may be a very different place when we return. If You-know-who is taking power, I doubt he would think to leave this place untouched.”_

_Rose abruptly grabbed Dante’s arm with her other hand. The Slytherin glanced down at her and saw a glimmer in her eye that had nothing to do with the sun. “I thought Gryffindors didn’t get scared,” he said. Rose blew away her growing fear in nearly silent breaths, and then spoke in a steady voice._

_“I don’t want to get caught up in a war,” she admitted. “I know that it’s coming, and that there’s no way to escape it. But if it was for the good of our world, then I suppose I would have to do my part.”_

_“But would you be willing to die for it?” said Dante, his own voice falling to a whisper. Rose looked up at him and locked in on his eyes, still so bright even in that grim twilight. “Dante, don’t do that. You know I’m not ready to die yet.”_

_“I don’t think anyone really is,” Dante said with a slight shake of the head. “But we’re all at risk now, and there’s no way to avoid it.”_

_“Not all of us are at risk,” Rose pointed out subtly. “You have both your pure blood and your Slytherin status to protect you. It’s people like me that are not safe anymore.”_

_“What do you mean, Rose? You’ve done nothing wrong.”_

_“So you say.” Rose slipped her hand through the crook of Dante’s arm and pulled herself in closer to his body. “If you ask one of those demons, I’ve done everything wrong. I sympathize with Muggles, and I was born of one. You know that they think I’m dirty, Dante. Parkinson has been saying it for years. And I have no idea where my father is these days. What happens to me if he gives them my name, my so-called crimes? I know what may…what will happen to those You-know-who despises. I know the dangers I will face while those like you are out of harm's way.”_

_“If you and our other friends are at such risk, then I don’t want to be safe,” said Dante. He rested a strong, but gentle hand on his arm, just brushing the tips of Rose’s fingers. “But would you still do it? Would you still stand with Potter, even with that risk?”_

_Rose thought for a very long moment, but just as she parted her lips to speak, the most beautiful sound resonated through the air. Rose and Dante looked up at the shadow of scarlet and gold as the phoenix glided high over their heads. As they watched it fly off into the distance, Rose let out a long, somber sigh. “Yes,” she said. “If there was something that Dumbledore would want for us to do, it would be to stand our ground and fight for what’s right. I might want to live a full life, but I would gladly sacrifice everything for this beautiful world. If the fate of the Wizarding world lay in the palm of my hand, I would do whatever I could to protect it, no matter how frightened I was.”_

_Dante was quiet again, listening to the mournful echoes of the phoenix’s song. But he then nodded with a huff. “If you’re putting everything on the line, then I will as well.”_

_“Dante, no!” gasped Rose. “Don’t go throwing yourself into a conflict because of me. You didn’t have to do it when it was Parkinson or Malfoy, and you don’t have to do it now!”_

_“It’s more than just you,” said Dante, touching Rose’s shoulder. “It’s you, it’s Natasha, it’s Jonny, it’s everyone at Hogwarts. You say I have protection. Well, I refuse to sit back and watch my closest friends be harmed while the Death Eaters pass me over. I want to protect you, Rose, you and the world. More than that, I want to take back the honor that Slytherin lost all those years ago because of the same prejudice that empowers them today. I don’t believe their despicable creeds, and I never will. I want to show that there’s at least one of them that’s willing to stand up to that…to stand with you.”_

_“Oh Dante…” Rose whispered, feeling a hard knot in her chest._

_“We’re in this together, Rose. No matter what happens after tonight, I will still be there with you. We always said that we would always have each other, and I intend to keep that promise.”_

_There was a silence that swept over the valley as Rose stared up into Dante’s wintry blue eyes. Instinct told her to respond, but the words died before they could reach her lips. She felt paralyzed, but also swept away by valor and devotion. That familiar ache settled into her chest, and Rose blinked away the mist from her eyes. It was almost like he was begging her to tell him. She and Dante had a bond unbreakable, but Rose wanted so much more from him. The future was growing darker before their eyes, and she, only she held the power to change fate. On the edge of the bleakest time in all Wizarding history, this one night could bring an end to years of silence and torment._

_But she couldn’t say a word…_

_Even though Rose’s heart was screaming to be released, the ever present fear once again caught her in its grip. Dante was the world to her, but no matter how much she pined for him, above all the love and happiness he stirred in her, he was her friend. The last thing that Rose ever wanted was to lose her best friend, especially now. The end of the world was looming, after all, and Dante’s loyalty was far too valuable to risk. Feeling trapped in a hopelessly spinning world, all Rose was left with was the strength to reach around Dante’s broad chest, holding herself close to her hero, and resting her cheek against his beating heart._

_“It will be alright, Rose,” whispered Dante. “This isn’t the end, not by a long shot.” He wrapped his arm around Rose’s huddled shoulders, rubbing her back gently. Rose felt it as he tilted his head to the sky, which coaxed her to do the same, and together on the lapping shore of that vast lake, they got lost in the faint light of the mysterious little star that Rose treasured so._

**_~End Flashback~_ **

“Rose, are you alright?”

Rose blinked as the rainy world of Spinner’s End came back into view, and gave a half-glance over her shoulder in response to Remus’s question. “Oh, yeah,” she mumbled. “I was just thinking about things.”

“I can hardly say I blame you,” said Remus. He carefully, though not painlessly rose up from the creaky sofa, and he took hold of their crumb-dusted plates. “That does seem to be the nature of nights like this. I must admit that I haven’t done this much reminiscing since my wife passed on, if it is any comfort to you.”

“Honestly Remus, I already have enough on my mind without that to think about…no disrespect of course.”

“None taken, Rose.” Remus let out a soft sigh as he carried the plates and empty glasses to the kitchen sink, before coming to lean on the archway connecting the two small rooms. “Take my word for it, I know exactly how you’re feeling right now, and I feel bad for you, I really do.”

“Not as bad as you do for Severus,” Rose said almost condescendingly. She leaned her elbow on the windowsill and peered up at the night sky, just wishing the rain clouds would part and reveal the stars – reveal Dante’s star. It may only serve to make her miss her lost friend and love more, but it also brought her comfort, and it had been her saving grace in the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow.

“Indeed,” muttered Remus, turning his face to the stairs. He was silent for a moment, as though pondering his words when he said, “The state he’s in, I’m just happy that he won’t have to sleep alone tonight.”

“Aw Remus, you know for as long as he carries that baby around, he’s never alone, even when I’m not there.”

Remus giggled in his throat. “I do know that, but I sure wasn’t going to say it. Every time I try to make conversation with Severus about his pregnancy, it’s frequently no more than one question long. I think you are the only person to whom he talks freely about the baby.”

“To tell you the truth,” said Rose as she finally gave up on the rainy night sky outside and turned back to face Remus. “I think the baby has been more of a comfort tonight that any of us could be.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Remus. Rose habitually glanced at the stairs before she mumbled, “Promise not to mention this to Severus?”

“Of course.”

Still nervous about being overheard, Rose actually got to her feet, gripping the collar of her dressing gown, and she pushed the bookcase door closed. “I heard him talking to the baby upstairs. He was saying all these things about how he was going to make this wonderful life for them, and that he feels he really can do that now…to tell you the truth, it was the sweetest thing I’ve seen him do.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, his brow tweaking as the image of Severus Snape softly whispering to his round belly while rubbing tenderly crept into his mind. But just when Rose was beginning to question her judgment, his thin lips twitched, and a smile put the tired witch at ease. “Well…” said Remus. “How about that? I don’t know about you, but if that’s not a good sign for Severus, then I don’t know what is.”

For the first time all that long, rainy day, Rose allowed herself a subtle, genuine smile.

Once the room was sufficiently straightened, Remus looked to the clock and rubbed his eyes with tiredness. He yawned behind his hand, and he advised that the two of them should head up to bed. But when he pulled out his wand to extinguish the fire in the hearth, Rose stopped him. She wanted to sit for a little while longer, wait until the need for sleep was incontestable. Remus didn’t like that idea very much; frankly, the dark circles under Rose’s beautiful blue eyes gave her a skeletal appearance in that light. But he did not contest her choice. He just told her that she needed rest as well, and he turned to go upstairs.

“Remus,” Rose suddenly chirped, and the werewolf stopped and turned on keen instinct.

“Yes Rose?” he asked calmly. Rose had to slink back slightly into her seat, feeling rather on the spot, and she suddenly seemed to lose what was left of her voice.

“Do you…do you think it’s possible to be reunited with those we’ve lost, like…like they’re there waiting for us after death?”

Remus had to steady his stance upon hearing that question, silently blown over by how profound and innocent a young person could be all at once. Much like Severus, overwhelmed by a horrendous war and enough violence for many lifetimes, Remus often forgot that Rose, Harry, and all the other students he cared for were still children in many ways. But then again, just as Rose’s words had proven, they had little mind for childish things, and in the most disparaging way. Rose had known loss in her life; Remus didn’t assume it anymore, he just knew it. If he owed her anything for what she had done for Severus, it was this small relief.

“I like to believe that there is a world beyond this,” he said quietly. “The human soul is simply too complex to flitter into nothing. And yes, I do believe in such a reunion. If we had nothing to welcome us into the next life, then death really would be something to fear. Why me, I want to live the rest of my days to the fullest. But with each day, I know that I’m only coming closer to the day when I finally get to see my Dora again.”

“Do you think that Lily could have been there for Severus?”

There was a long pause, allowing Remus to take in all the emotions stirred up at the thought of two of his dear friends in that way. But instead of wondering himself into a migraine over why Rose would ask such a thing, he simply gave her the best answer he could. “Yes…I do think that. Lily would have seen what led to that night, and being as generous as she was, she would have rewarded Severus for his heroism. However, I don’t want you to dwell on something like that. The last thing I want is to see you punish yourself when you have no reason.”

With a last nod of his head, Remus trudged up the steps, and Rose listened to his footsteps all the way into the spare bedroom above her head.

Breathing shallowly through the heat of the dying fire embers, Rose pressed herself back into Severus’s chair, and she inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet, familiar scent of her Potions master. But where she was seeking comfort, she only found sickening despair, Severus’s quiet words to his unborn child still reverberating in her ears.

Severus had tried to tell her about Lily the week before; those obscure questions to her about death and spiritual visits. In the wake of their worst row, he had tried to tell his tale of his brush with death, and ultimately, his encounter with Lily’s eternal spirit. But in his fear and emotional frailty, his approach had been too reserved, and Rose failed to see his true meaning. She wondered, could there be a more awful feeling? There was guilt for her own relationship, but also a burning jealousy that refused to be quenched. In her mind, a whirlwind of red hair and green eyes threatened to undo everything she had forced herself to accept.

It was a miracle that Severus survived Voldemort’s attack, and it all could have been the doing of Lily Evans-Potter. Pressing her face into the chair, Rose panted away the hot tears that pooled in her eyes.

But why did she have to feel this angry and jealous when it wasn’t really Lily who was causing it? Rose was mad at Severus for withholding his lasting grief for Lily and keeping her at the back of his mind throughout their months together. But that night, she was angrier with no one more than herself because of the looming shadow that was Dante. Remus was right; Severus’s troubles were hers as well. If only he knew just how right he was to say that. Severus’s regrets only reminded Rose of hers, brought to mind the petty fear and poor decisions that she would never forget. Perhaps she hated Lily for the wrong reason. She might have been stealing Severus’s attention, but she was not the one who continued to haunt Rose and made her lament everything she had ever done in her pursuit of happiness. All this time, Lily’s ghost had merely been a smokescreen to distract from Dante’s heartbreaking presence in Rose’s conscience.

But at least Severus had gotten his closure. Tragic though it was, his story with Lily had run its course until it found its ultimate resolution in Godric’s Hollow. He could now accept that he was never meant to be with her. Rose however had no such comfort. Seven years had not been enough for her and Dante, and to be cut so short with little to be had. Rose had squandered her one real opportunity to confess her love for her best friend, throwing away the chance to have everything she wanted. She might also have ruined everything she had, but no one could say. Their story had no ending, forever to remain an unwritten shadow of what might have been.

It would be a rough night of restless sleep for Rose, and not even Severus lying in the bed next to her would make it any better.


	76. The Last Testement

The return journey to Hogwarts the following morning was a subdued one. It was yet another long day of hustled railway hopping and hopelessly disappointing meals, culminating in a second convoluted attempt to sneak Rose back onto school grounds undetected. But in spite of this, it was not an unhappy venture. The gravity of Godric’s Hollow had been lifted off all of their shoulders, Severus in particular. After a whole night’s worth of deep, continuous rest, the pregnant wizard awoke to a profound sense of freedom, like a prisoner at last released from his chains. His feelings for Lily had not changed, not one bit. But the past was beyond his reach, and for once in his life, he was okay with that. In all those long years, he was finally able to turn his face to the horizon and reach for the prize fate had belatedly granted him. Through the misery and the emotional torment that he had thrust upon her, Rose had forgiven him for calling her by his late friend’s name, and she greeted the day with bright, albeit exhausted optimism.

If Severus was sure of anything now, it was of his relationship, and he once again had Lily to thank for that. If it had not been for her, Severus might never have realized that Rose was definitely the one who was always meant for him.

Once they had all resettled into normal life, the focus instantly shifted back to Severus’s pregnancy, and quite rightfully so, as Albus was so kind to remind them all. As each April spring day passed by, the Potions master was drawing closer and closer to his due date, and much to his chagrin and frankly irony, Severus had never felt more pregnant than he did now. He no longer had the strength to move at free will, weighed down by a belly so round and heavy that Severus had to wonder how the hell he managed to get out of bed each morning. His back ached endlessly, and swollen ankles kept him firmly in his seat during all of his classes. Of course, that is except for the three or four trips to the toilet he had to make for every class that he taught. Severus didn’t know what he had done to offend his unborn baby, but surely it wasn’t worth being punished by having his bladder compressed into nothing. And the baby’s little kicks and other small movements had had once soothed and comforted him? They had now become bothersome shifts and turns of an occupant unhappy with limited living space. This baby wanted out, and Severus could agree wholeheartedly. He was tired of this pregnancy, and he was tired of his girlfriend assuming the fatherly aspects of welcoming a child. But he did not dread that coming day, not so much as to disrupt his daily life, and he remembered that every time he looked down at his hugely swollen abdomen in his moments alone.

He knew it was getting closer, and it wasn’t just the reminders of his little band of coddlers that told him that. The false contractions were becoming more frequent; on average, Severus was feeling those dull, achy pains every two to three days, and they were spanned out sporadically over several hours. While they caused Severus no distress and only minor discomfort, it was enough to ruffle feathers, especially Rose’s. She now barely wanted to leave Severus’s side, except that Remus and four certain Seventh years kept reminding her that it was impractical. She had other things to worry about after all, most importantly her upcoming NEWT exams, and Hermione was not going to let her forget.

But there was no doubting it. That strange little excitement and anxiety that accompanies the birth of any baby, it was alive and fervent amongst a small cluster of six professors and five students. And for once, Severus almost felt normal, like it should have been this way all along. But as the way it always was, the peace could only extend so far before falling under a dark cloud. And this time, it was all of Wizarding Britain who fell under its shadow.

The first anniversary of Voldemort’s defeat had been talked about very little, even less about the battle that nearly leveled Hogwarts castle to the ground. No one wanted to speak of the horrors that were seen by those too-young people, or what had happened to them as a result. And no one wanted to speak of those poor innocent souls who had been taken much too soon by senseless violence. But the fact remained that the date was unavoidable, and as May drew nearer, Dumbledore took it upon himself to make the difficult decisions of how to approach this grim experience.

It was decided that on the evening of the second of May, a memorial service would be held out on the Hogwarts grounds, and everyone, teacher and student, would attend. It would simply serve as a moment to pay respects to those who had been lost, give thanks for those who had survived, and bring closure to the lives of the students who had been so uprooted by the destruction of war. The Ministry had tried to make it a huge event, involving folks from all over the country, but the old headmaster remained as firm as ever he was. Even if the epic battle had taken place there, Hogwarts still belonged to her students. It was their school, and therefore their time to mourn. It was one of the only things that the Ministry respected without any fuss.

All the while, Albus had worried most of all about how the date would affect Severus. Being nine months pregnant and due to give birth within weeks, maybe even days, the last thing he wanted the Potions master thinking about was his own near-death experience that had led to him being there now. But as much as he tried to talk to the younger wizard about it, Severus always brushed it off. He had put that night out of his mind; the threat was gone and now it was nothing more than a distant memory. To be honest, it seemed to Albus that Severus was much more concerned for the students, especially those he knew to be deeply impacted by the events of the previous year. As concerned as he was, the elderly wizard’s heart was warmed by Severus’s compassion, subtle though it was.

What he didn’t and wouldn’t know, however, was that it was only one student that took up Severus’s mind nearly every minute leading up to April’s last hour.

**~HP~**

Draco woke up on the morning of the first of May out of a disjointed half-coma, and he groaned when he got a look outside the window at the still inky sky. It was just barely the crack of dawn, much too early by his standards. Not knowing what strange impulse had roused him, Draco tossed and turned anxiously in his bed, desperately trying to get himself back into a comfortable position so that he might fall back to sleep. But no matter what he did, the irritating tingle in his chest and limbs did not go away, and Draco sat up to cradle his head in his hands. That makes four mornings in a row, he bemoaned silently. He thought back to the last time he had found himself in this position; not since sixth year had he lost sleep like this.

He had to be honest with himself; it was beginning to become a burden to keep Severus’s relationship with Rose a secret. It had been hard enough when he was doing it just for Severus, but now that Draco had developed an understanding with Rose that he loathed to call a friendship, it was as though whole worlds rested on his shoulders. Everyone was a potential threat, and Draco felt like eyes were on him constantly. What was worse was that it was beginning to show in his behavior, regardless of how well he hid it.

When he had returned to Malfoy Manor for the Easter holiday, he knew it was not going to be easy. Not only was it the first time back from school when he genuinely had no more real friends, having practically divorced himself from his housemates, but it was also the first time he would have to face his mother since helping to put his father in prison. Obviously, that was a subject that was definitely left untouched, and Draco tried to come off like he was unaffected, or still healing at the very least. However, he underestimated the bond between a parent and their child. It might have been motherly intuition, but Narcissa could sense that something wasn’t quite right with her son. There was something that he wasn’t telling her, and though she did not want to push Draco too far emotionally, she had a sneaking suspicion about what it was about.

The whole week, Draco had to put up with an onslaught of nosey, round-the-corner questions from his mother. Questions about his father, about Severus, and about the half-blood girl who was with them. Questions about what happened that night, about his role in the events. Why did Severus ultimately put himself between Lucius and Alistair Beckett’s daughter? What was Alistair Beckett’s daughter doing with them to begin with? Many of these questions Draco simply dismissed, but that was by no means easy. Even if he gave her the excuse that Severus had been using for months, that Rose was just an overzealous potions student looking for extra lessons, Narcissa would have questioned that and the Potions master’s intentions at some point. But if Draco had tried to stretch the truth and admit that Rose was there for Severus’s protection, Narcissa almost certainly would have asked the obvious question. Why would Severus Snape need to be protected, and by a student at that? This would have put the secret of Severus’s pregnancy in jeopardy. Above all else, however, Draco had to justify his actions that night. Yes, Narcissa believed and accepted that her husband was a madman. She knew that he cruciated the girl, and when Alistair refused to kill his own daughter, Lucius probably would have done it himself. But while she knew that an innocent young life had been saved, she was slightly puzzled upon finding out that her son had a hand in the rescue. Even now, a full year after the Dark Lord’s defeat, Draco just couldn’t bear with the idea of admitting to his mother that he had struck up somewhat of a friendship with a half-blood from Gryffindor. Frankly, he couldn’t even admit it to Severus himself, forget about Narcissa!

Never before had Draco been so glad to be back at Hogwarts. The whole holiday had been one giant close call in his mind, and he was too happy to crawl back to his castle seclusion. His mother was quite a manipulative woman in her own right; she had much to live up to as one of the last survivors of the noble house of Black. But Draco had to curse himself over and over again that he just couldn’t manipulate her in return. He didn’t know if it was his experiences in the Dark Lord’s war, if it was the immense responsibility of hiding Severus’s impending fatherhood and relationship with Rose, or if it was Severus and Rose themselves. Whatever it may be, one thing was for sure. Draco had changed. He was no longer the courtyard bully, intent on ruining everyone else’s day just to get off. He was developing new relationships, branching out into a new life despite his fears. And after spending his entire life as an only child, he relished in the private excitement of watching a little sibling grow up.

Had he changed for the better? Perhaps…but only time would be able to tell.

After who knows how many minutes of trying and failing to fall back to sleep, Draco grudgingly gave up the fight, and he surrendered to the idea of another dreary, drowsy day. Quietly, he got up out of bed and, sneaking past his snoring roommates, he crept out of the room and silently made his way up to the Slytherin common area.

Like the morning before, the room was empty, and the only signs of life came from the passing shadows of the lake outside. Sighing his discontent, he fell back into a chair and kicked up his feet, settled in his bizarre little routine. It was now quite normal for him to sit in front of the smoking coals in the predawn hours, a habit that he had come to find out he shared with Rose. She had mentioned how she always had a slight problem with insomnia when she wasn’t sleeping with Severus. Draco concluded that it was the anticipation of the impending birth having its effects on them. But these psychosomatic manifestations were more than Draco could really handle; he was losing sleep as it already was. For a guy who was so good at memory magic, it was a crying shame that he couldn’t take away those annoying little thoughts.

He stood up suddenly, already weary of sitting idle. He briefly poked at the embers, but Draco then turned his face to the open room. If there was one way in which the young Malfoy’s nature hadn’t changed, it was the ever present desire to eavesdrop. Too many times Draco had stuck his nose in people’s business, and not once did he get bored of this blatant insolence. He had recently tried to curb his habit, wanting to be a good example for his unborn brother or sister, but this morning was positively irresistible. Though he had already discovered the biggest scandals in the history of Hogwarts, it felt like some juicy little secret was hiding there, like some illegal little substance that would boost his status in his class again. Draco might have softened up, but he still had a mean streak that wasn’t about to go away anytime soon. 

For a while, Draco wandered about the room, paging through people’s books left until the morning, opening desk drawers, and just over all snooping around. Then as the slivers of sun began to shine through the lake water outside, something caught his eye. In a dark corner, there sat a black table with three drawers. Cob webs adorned it and the face was covered in a thick layer of dust. This table had been sitting in the same spot ever since Draco arrived at Hogwarts, probably even longer. That thing looked like it had been there since Severus was a student. But Draco had never seen anyone so much as open a drawer. A thought came to him; what a wonderful hiding place if you didn’t want anyone to find something that you definitely didn’t want found.

Oh yes, he definitely still had his mean streak.

Draco walked over to the little table, and he blew the loose dust off the top. Then, with a little difficulty, he pulled open the top drawer only to see more dust. The second drawer housed a rather nasty looking spider huddled in its crude web. But when Draco opened the third and bottom drawer, he finally came across something. However, it was not the illegal potion or banned paraphernalia he had expected.

In the drawer was nothing but an envelope. It was not an old envelope, with no marks of dirt, water, or anything else that might show age.  When Draco picked it up delicately, he came to see that it did contain some parchment, and it had been sealed with the wax stamp of Slytherin house. Then he turned it over to read the intricate scrawl that appeared to have been hastily written down.

_To whomever it concerns,_

_If this letter is found, see to it that this gets to Rosella Beckett of Gryffindor by means of Meadow Hill in Kent._

_April 1998_

Draco’s brow scrunched tightly as he stared down at the writing, and he swallowed at the realization that the letter had only been there for a year. The sweat started coming when he remembered that only one of his housemates had any real association with Rose. But Draco didn’t really know anything anymore. In the last few months alone, he had learned that no one was what they seemed to be. He couldn’t be any surer of this than he was about anything else since the war ended. But this one was different; by finding it, Draco had been saddled with a responsibility, whether he liked it or not.

Why did fate always have to keep tripping him up in this way?

**~HP~**

“That’s it, Severus. Just take a deep breath and relax your body.”

Severus just resisted the growl that was rumbling in his throat as he leaned back onto the pillows of his hospital bed and allowed his legs to drop open for Poppy. As the Mediwitch lifted the sheet that covered his lower body, he flung his arms up to cover his reddening face, or perhaps just to shield his eyes from what she was doing. Of all the humiliating things that Poppy had put him through over the course of his pregnancy, these internal examinations were without a doubt the worst. Necessary though they were, there were hardly any words to describe the perverse discomfort of his newly acquired birth canal being checked out. For Prospero’s sake, Rose didn’t even do those sorts of things to him! Putting his girlfriend’s face out of mind for once, Severus could have just waved at his manhood as it fluttered out of the open window into the warm spring air.

Thankfully, Poppy’s checkup was brief, and she soon pulled her hand away and pulled off the latex glove she wore. “Well done, Severus,” she said with a smile. “The birth canal is fully formed, and you have not yet begun to dilate. Excellent, just excellent.”

“I suppose I should be relieved by that,” muttered Severus, rolling his eyes at the tone in Poppy’s voice. She was making it sound like he had a major hand in his current condition, like not going into labour yet was some kind of grand achievement. But he had learned not to make a fuss of this; such attitudes would continue for as long as he remained pregnant, and likely for the next eighteen years of his unborn child’s life.

“You should indeed,” Poppy answered. Tossing out the soiled glove, she moved further up the side of the bed and gently pulled apart the folds of Severus’s robes to expose his distended abdomen. “Even a full term baby needs as much time as possible before being born. Aside from Malfoy’s attack, it’s a miracle that you have made it this far without having one false alarm, and I was quite ready for that. You’re one of the lucky ones, dear.”

“That depends on your definition of lucky.”

Poppy shook her head with a smirk, and she turned back to her work. Slowly, she moved her hands over Severus’s belly, feeling for the baby’s position. Again, Severus remained as passive as possible. It was difficult under the pressure of the weight of his bump pinning him down to the mattress, but he focused on even breathing and tried to imagine it was Rose giving him on of her late-night belly rubs.

After a few moments, Poppy pulled her hands away and allowed Severus to sit up as she made a note in his medical records. “Well Severus, this baby is certainly ready,” she told him. “The head has dropped down into your pelvis.”

“I could have told you that,” Severus sneered weakly. “The little bugger has been sitting atop my bladder for the last three weeks. You try talking to a bunch of mind-numbing teenagers for an hour while trying to not think about the next time you will have to pee.”

“Oh tut-tut, Severus, where’s our stubborn old Potions master who once taught a full day of classes with walking pneumonia? Not to worry though. Any day now, we should have a beautiful bouncing baby.” Poppy turned her head in time to see Severus swing his legs over the edge of the bed, and she busied herself about the room to give him a moment to pull his oversized trousers back on. “Now, I expect that we won’t be waiting for very long. However, if you don’t go into labour on your own by the end of next week, we may have to consider our options.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe that will be a concern of ours,” said Severus. Very carefully, he stood up from the bed, and he smoothed his robes out over his belly. He then straitened his back as he retrieved his wand to recast his Glamour Charms.

“One more thing, Severus.”

Severus sluggishly let his wand drop back down to the side of his body, and he blew out a breath as his eyes rolled to the ceiling. But not wanting to get himself into a useless lecture when he was having a relatively good day, he turned his head and said, “Yes Poppy?”

“I was speaking with Minerva yesterday, and she tells me that you planned on attending the memorial tomorrow night.” The elderly witch sat down on the edge of the bed, and she patted at the spot beside her, silently telling Severus to do the same. The pregnant Potions master obliged without complaint.

“Barring the event that I actually do go into labour, I certainly have every intention to,” he said. “There isn’t a problem with that, is there?”

“Well no,” Poppy started, briefly hesitating before continuing. “I’m just a little bit worried about you. I don’t think it’s wrong to assume that tomorrow won’t be an easy day for you, and I don’t want you forcing yourself into something you are not comfortable with. I’ll be honest with you, Severus, I would be cautioning you even if you were not pregnant.”

Oh, Severus had been expecting this one. The battle’s anniversary was a time to remember the fallen, but it was also a reminder of the survivors. Though Severus preferred to ignore his brush with bloody death three hundred and sixty-four nights ago, he couldn’t stop the rest of the world from thinking on it. It was annoying, really, the way the kids were looking at him these days, and how well behaved the majority of them were. It was though their prefects had ganged up on all of them and gave them a very stern lecture of the fragility of the mind after a near death experience. Although, the way all his colleagues were treating him, and not just the few privy to his delicate condition, Severus would not be surprised if they had all had a word or two with their favorite pupils, encouraging them to spread the message. Just once, Severus thought to himself. Just once would people stop beating around the bush and quit treating him like he was one wrong word away from a nervous breakdown.

“I am well enough and of stable mind, Poppy,” said Severus. “I faced those demons a long time ago, and nothing in the last few days has been able to change my mind.”

“Well, I don’t want you to go pushing yourself beyond your limits,” Poppy said, resting a hand on Severus’s arm. “If you don’t feel as though you are up to attending the service, you certainly don’t have to. Given the circumstances, I’m sure that everyone there would understand your absence.”

“Poppy,” Severus interrupted. “Will you allow me to be frank?”

“Yes, of course,” answered Poppy, her brow tweaking in concern. Taking a deep breath, Severus paused for a moment to formulate his response in his head. He knew that discretion was not truly necessary nowadays, but to him, that only applied for his own business. He sorely wished that it didn’t have to feel this much like a betrayal, to talk about them behind their backs. But then, the thought had to have come to Poppy as well. She had to know what was troubling him, and if her heart was true, it would be troubling her as well.

“It’s not for me that I am attending, but for them. Everyone seems to forget that I am not the only one who almost lost their lives a year ago. The students…those kids…blame it on parental instinct if we must, but I worry for some of them. You and I both know that all of them are still young, far too young to have seen what they have. The older ones in particular trouble me. They try to put across that they are alright, but I can sense that they haven’t yet come to terms with what has happened. They lost loved ones, they’ve been bottling that up, and the world has only aided in that by refusing to discuss it when opportune.”

“You’re talking about Draco Malfoy, aren’t you, Severus?” said Poppy, but Severus only gave her a half-nod.

“He is one of them, but there are more,” he said. “Truthfully speaking, I have my doubts about Potter and his little band of followers.”

“Oh yes,” Poppy mused aloud. “He and Granger have to be there too. Head Boy and Girl must represent the student body after all. The poor dears…and Weasley won’t take well to it either after losing his brother. Oh Severus, it’s not until you actually stop to think that this whole idea gives you a bad feeling inside.”

“Exactly, and that is why I feel I must be there,” said Severus. “It is our duty, Poppy. We are their mentors, and we are their guardians. I am not just responsible for the child that I carry, but for them as well. And I think every one of us owes them that respect.”

“When you’re right, you’re right,” said Poppy, who was breathing away the light glow in the corner of her eye. “I still don’t want you to be pushing yourself too hard. I might suggest that one of the kids escort you, Miss Beckett will be there with Potter and the others, and I know how fond of her you are. Perhaps Minerva could ask her to keep an eye on you through the service.”

Severus glanced at Poppy from the side, his eyes drooping in reminisce. He knew that she meant well in her suggestion, but she didn’t know Rose the way he did, and he doubted that she understood that it was really Rose who needed looking after. The baby shifted uncomfortably, sensing his unease, and Severus stroked down the curve of his stomach as he tried to make sense of his qualms. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. But how could he let this day pass when hardly anyone seemed to acknowledge Dante Macleod, and the powerful loss he had left Rose with? How could he when not even Rose brought it up? Severus could not be fooled; the bright face that Rose had put up in recent days was nearly the same as from Godric’s Hollow, and it was no longer a mask to the Potions master.

She wasn’t alright, he just knew it. When they would all know however, or how bad it was, he didn’t know.

**~HP~**

It wasn’t very often that Harry walked through the halls alone, not without his best mates for company. They really were a packaged deal, when he actually thought to sit down and think about it. But this happened to be one of those rare days when he was free of an entourage, and he was able to blend in amongst the rest of the students. Harry liked moments like these; it was one of those times when he could convince himself that he was normal, or something close to it anyway. And on a day like that, he kind of needed that.

In order to get his mind off of the impending memorial, Hermione had decided that they should have a picnic out by the lake. They could eat their lunch at their leisure, and they would have ample opportunity to distract themselves with mountains of NEWT review material. Truth be told, Harry would have liked that idea anyway. The day was uncommonly beautiful, and he was in a far better mood than he should be. His life was chaos, but everyone needed moments of peace.

“Potter!”

Acting on bare instinct, Harry came to an almost skidding halt at the sound of the voice, and he carefully turned in the direction from which it came. It wasn’t terribly surprising to see Draco stalking his way down the corridor towards him. What _was_ surprising was the fact that Draco was as alone as he was. But Harry had learned his lesson long ago; he wasn’t going to let Goyle’s absence throw him off. Puffing up his chest a little, Harry turned slowly on his heel, his face melting into a soft coolness.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” he asked, less spitefully than his past self might have said it. Draco stopped some four feet away from the Head Boy, and he surveyed their surroundings, obviously not wanting to be seen talking to his not-as-strong-but-still-there nemesis.

“Will you be seeing Beckett anytime soon?” the Slytherin asked. Harry nodded curtly and pointed behind him as he said, “I was just one my way to meet her now. Why?”

Draco looked around again; his brow twitched with the nervousness of being in the open, and yet there was an odd seriousness in that thin face that Harry couldn’t quite pin down. When it seemed that he was content with their relative privacy, Draco reached into his robes and pulled an envelope from an inner pocket. He then held it out to Harry.

“What’s that?” asked Harry, the arch in his brow wrinkling the scar on his forehead.

“I found it in my common room,” said Draco. “Just give it to her, will you?” Harry was unsure; he couldn’t detect any malice in Draco’s tone, but why was there still tension? But Harry wasn’t exactly known for his wariness, and he took the rough envelope with another short nod. Draco then turned back down the corridor, and he was gone just as swiftly as when he had arrived.

Harry couldn’t help but stand there for a minute, glancing between the envelope in his hand and the retreating Slytherin. He had certainly seen some strange things in his life at Hogwarts, but this was odd even for him, and that was a lot for a young man who was friends with a nineteen year-old girl who regularly had passionate – he could only assume – sex with her male, doubled-age, heavily pregnant teacher. But it wasn’t until he flipped it over and saw the written message on the face of the parchment that he realized that his stomach really sank. Draco wouldn’t have sought him out unless he had a good reason for it. And in this case, it meant that this envelope needed to be seen.

If only he could tell whose handwriting it was scrawled out in his hand.

The bright sunlight was almost blinding out on the open grounds, and Harry’s pace slowed in response. He breathed in deeply, taking in the warm, fresh air with great robust. Here and there, he could hear the echoing voices of other students who had also decided to take advantage of the delightfully fair weather, and a smile tweaked at the corners of Harry’s mouth. If he had to write the perfect day to be alive (which is to say that he could write anything poetically), it would have to be this.

Harry didn’t have to walk very far before he found his friends by the shore of the lake. Under the shade of a growing sapling, the three of them sat on a knitted blanket that Ron’s mother had sent during the winter, and already an array of sandwiches and snacks were laid out around them. Harry licked his lips as he looked at the fresh roast beef and cucumber salad, suddenly remembering how hungry he was that day.

“Oi Harry, where’ve you been?” Ron asked as Harry dropped to his knees on an empty corner of blanket.

“I was meeting with McGonagall about tomorrow night,” the Head Boy explained. “I would have been here sooner, but I ran into Draco on my way.”

“What would Draco Malfoy want with you at this time of day?” asked Hermione, glancing at Harry from the side. She was nimbly twisting Rose’s long hair into a neat braid at the back of her head. “Usually when he has to talk to us, he sends a message with Rose.”

“Actually, I think he was really looking for Rose, but found me instead.”

At the bare mention of her name, Rose jerked her head in Harry’s direction, yanking the end of her braided hair out of Hermione’s hands. “Is Severus alright?” she asked. She didn’t sound panicked, but she did have a slight undertone of trying not to freak out.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine,” said Harry, waving his hands. He knew he was technically lying because he didn’t know, but Draco didn’t mention anything, so that was good, right? “He just wanted to know if I was going to see you soon, and I said yes. He told me to give you this.”

That’s when Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope. He held it out for Rose to take. Her flaxen brow wrinkling in perplexity, Rose let her eyes wander over the folded parchment, examining it with an air of suspicion. But when she discovered the message on the face, those blue eyes faded. Her face slowly melted into wounded vulnerability, and her hand went lithe without her realizing. As the envelope fell to the ground before her, Rose brought a hand to her mouth, fingertips touching her lips like she wanted to be sick.

“Rose,” Hermione spoke up, touching her friend’s shoulder. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Rose shook her head slightly, almost in disbelief, and her lips trembled as she searched for her voice. Finally, after a last confused glance out at the lake, she muttered breathily, “It’s his writing.”

“Who’s writing?” Ron jumped in suddenly, reaching into their picnic basket for a second roast beef sandwich. “Not Snape’s, is it?” Rose just shook her head at that. There was suddenly a soft gasp from Hermione, whose hands had flung up to cover her mouth, and Harry was quickly made aware of what was going on. Now he knew what this was all about, and his stomach sunk further into his pelvis at the idea.

“It’s Dante’s handwriting, isn’t it?” he said, almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” said Rose. “Yeah it is.” Her voice was soft, but it broke with each intake of breath, and Hermione instantly rested her hand on Rose’s shoulder. But Ron was almost taken aback by the vulnerability in Rose’s voice, and then by the saddened, serious looks on his friends’ faces. He had certainly heard Rose in various states of upset, but it was only recently that he had heard anything remotely like this from her. The last time she spoke in such a small voice was when she let herself believe that Severus Snape loved another over her.

“There’s something I’m missing here, isn’t there?” he said, pulling his own voice back to a gruff quiet in his caution.

“Ron, not now,” Harry tried to warn him, but Ron was quick to respond to that, saying. “Hey, I’m not stupid, mate. I know that Macleod was Rose’s friend. But the way that she hardly ever talks about him now, even a year later, it just doesn’t seem right. There had to be something else going on there.”

Rose looked up from the delicate script of her late friend, and she angled her eyes to her fellow ginger. “I suppose you’re about to ask if we were a couple?” she asked.

“Of course,” replied Ron. “Don’t think that I didn’t see that look on your face whenever Macleod’s name has come up. I’m sorry if you were trying to be discrete, but sometimes you’re pretty terrible at that.” Rose winced slightly, the offense spiking her heart with ice. Hermione turned with a hand poised to smack her boyfriend, but Rose caught her by the wrist before she could swing back.

“I’m impressed, Ron,” said Rose, and she meant it. However, she didn’t know if it was Ron’s skills of deduction that she was keen on, or the curiosity of how long Ron had known this but chose to keep it to himself. Either way, it proved more with every passing day that Ron was not as oblivious as he seemed to be at times.

“So I was right then,” Ron spoke up again. “You and Macleod were together and you just didn’t tell anyone?”

Again, Hermione moved to speak for Rose, and again, she was stopped by a pale hand. “It’s alright, I’ve got this,” she said, and the Head Girl wilted back in submission. “Dante and I never dated. We were just close friends…but you’re right to make those assumptions, Ron. To put it one way, Severus was not the first man I’ve fallen for, and I mean truly fallen for.”

“Oh god,” Ron’s voice slunk back into a breathy sigh as he took in Rose’s words, and he propped himself up with his hands on the ground. “I knew this wasn’t your first go-around. That look is the same look you get when you talk about Snape.”

Rose glared at Ron out of the corner of her eye in a weak caricature of the aforementioned Potions master. “I resent that.”

“Alright, alright, Rose, Ron,” Hermione finally got her word in, thus regaining control of the situation. “That’s enough. As Rose here would put it, what’s past is past. I for one am more concerned about what this letter is. Where did Draco find this, Harry?”

“He said he found it in the Slytherin common room,” Harry explained. “Didn’t say where though.”

Hermione nodded in an uncertain manner, and she turned to the witch sitting by her side. “What do you think this is, Rose? If Dante wanted you to see this, then why would he leave it in his common room?”

“I don’t know,” said Rose, shrugging her shoulders. She thought back to those first days, first weeks after her first love’s death. While she, Jonny, and Natasha had each received a small donation from Dante’s parents as a token of bereavement, nothing else of Dante’s was left to her. There were certainly things of his that she would have wanted as a keepsake, but it wasn’t as though Dante had his will drawn up at the ripe old age of eighteen. No, he was so sure that they would make it out together, he said to her so often.

“It’s dated April of last year,” Harry pointed out as he reached for a sandwich. “That means he had to have written it sometime before the battle.”

“Yes, but why would he do that without anyone knowing, especially me?” Rose went to rip open the envelope, but she stopped, and she cast it away with a hard flick of her wrist. As it landed just short of Harry’s knee, she grunted in frustration. “I can’t do it…I just can’t do it.”

“Why not?” came Ron’s voice. “If you loved the guy, you should be thrilled about this.” That was apparently the last straw for Hermione, and she knocked Ron on the shoulder, jumbling his sandwich from his hand.

“Rose doesn’t know what’s written in that letter,” she half-scolded. “She doesn’t know why it was hidden away either, only just now surfacing. If it were me, I would be a bit afraid of what it could say.”

“As if there is any other way to react to this,” muttered Rose.

Suddenly, Harry reached out and grabbed the envelope off the picnic blanket. “Well,” he began, his tone laced with determination. “I didn’t really know Macleod, but if he wrote your name on the envelope, with instructions on how to find you, I think he intended for you to read it. If you can’t do it, then I will read it for you.” Harry tore open the envelope, but as he pulled out the folded parchment inside, Hermione suddenly leaped forward, grabbing at his wrist.

“Harry, no!” she said. “Dante meant that letter for Rose. Only she should see it.”

Harry sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Not for nothing, Hermione, but I don’t think there is really anything he can do about that now.” He gave Rose an apologetic half-frown, and he unfolded the parchment to see trails of the same intricate writing as on the envelope. He looked up carefully at Rose, who was clenching her hands on her lap. “Just so you know, you can stop me at any time.”

“Just do it,” whispered Rose as she looked into Harry’s deep green eyes. Swallowing hard, Harry turned his face down to the parchment in his hands

“ _Rose,_

_By the time this letter reaches you, I am certain I will have already died. I write to you as the enemy bears down on us more and more, trapping us in an unimaginable hell that no one should ever witness. I know that a time will come for us to act. But I fear that when this time comes, one of us will go to our doom. And though it grieves me to say it, I have a terrible sense that it will be me. I don’t see you going down without a fight. I just know you will be walking away from this castle in the end._

_Obviously, as you read these words, you have indeed survived the great war of our time and I have not. I write to you this night to say things to you that I wish I could have gotten the opportunity to say to you in person. I guess I could consider these my last words to you, and I want to make the most of them._

_I had plenty of friends in my day, but you were the only one that I could call my true friend. Some of the best years of my life were my years at Hogwarts, and it had everything to do with you. I could be ridiculed for waxing poetics, but I find that there is simply no other way to describe you. You were the sunshine in the Great hall in the morning. You were my counselor in tough times. You were the one person I could talk to about anything and everything. Rose, you were everything to me, and I mean this in every way._

_Rose, ever since the end of our fifth year, I have been hopelessly in love with you. In fact, I have had feelings for you since I asked you to the Yule ball. That’s why I asked you in the first place. I never had a date at all; I made up that whole story, and was just waiting for my chance to get to you. No matter what it seemed, I never had eyes for anyone else, only you. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the privilege to know. You have the biggest heart of anyone in this god forsaken place. And no matter what anyone says or thinks about you, you are a brilliant witch, one to be had. In my eyes, you are perfect. If I was given the choice to spend the rest of my life with you, I wouldn’t have had to think twice about such a decision._

_Sadly, I will never know if you would ever love me in return. Having you in my life was such a blessing that I just could not risk our friendship. I can only hope there was something shared between us. It’s my greatest regret that I never plucked up the courage and just confessed to you. And if such a wish of mine was so, I am truly sorry for the heartache my cowardice might have caused you._

_I could only imagine the pain that my death has brought upon you. Dealing with death is never easy, but I remember those nights when you would say to me, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” Even now, I wonder what you would do if something should happen to me. I know that if I ever lost you, I would never be in my right mind again. I don’t want that to be your fate._

_I don’t want you to grieve for me forever. I don’t want you to wander through life and wonder about what could have been. If anything, I hope my passing was noble. After the Death Eaters took control, when the four of us made it our mission to fight for our world, I accepted the possibility that I might lose my life in the process. If I was faced with death if it meant saving you, I would willingly lay my life down. I would proudly welcome death in order for you to live.”_

Harry paused, almost forgetting to breathe. An awful feeling was building up in his stomach, and he looked up at Rose. The look on her face made Harry feel like he was going to be sick; the abject horror brewing in her hard blue eyes made her look as though she had just been shot, the hand gripping her shirt covering some invisible bullet hole. Slowly at first, but faster and faster, she was hunching over herself, prone to crumble at the slightest breeze. Hermione gripped Rose’s hand as they listened to deep, shaky breaths.

“You want me to stop now?” asked Harry. He couldn’t bear to see Rose cry again, not after watching her sob herself half to death over the possibility of losing Severus to Harry’s mother’s memory. But to his unpleasant surprise, feeling like a sledge hammer on a concrete block, Rose shook her head. Harry clenched his teeth together, hard! He did not like where this was going at all, but if only to follow orders for the sake of Rose’s sanity, he turned back down to the letter, now trembling in his fingers.

“ _You and I always said that the future was unlimited. You fancied me to be a great ministry official while I expected you would become a Potioneer who could best Snape at his own game. So we won’t have what we wanted when we were young, but the future still exists, Rose. And while I might not have any part in it, your life does not have to stop when we’re still so young. I don’t want you to think that nothing waits for you outside these walls when I can say for certain that there is._

_My last wish for you is that you go on and live your life to the fullest. Keep my memory alive, but do not mourn me. I want you to go on to have a prestigious career, no matter what that might be. I want you to always be close with Jonny and Natasha; we really are a walking Hogwarts crest, and the loss of one should not break up the others. I want you to have a happy home life; no family riffs are ever beyond hope of reconciliation. But most of all, I hope that you have a happy life with a family of your own, that you’ll have lots of babies, and that you live out the rest of your days with a man who loves you and cares for you as much as I did._

_In this life and the next, I love you, Rose. And it is you that I take with me until the end of time. Thank you for the best times of my life, and thank you for helping me to see what friendship and love really mean._

_Forever in your thoughts,_

_Dante Macleod”_

Harry finally came to the end of the letter, and he tossed it to the side with a harsh flick. It felt to him like that harmless paper was burning his fingers. Actually, he felt like the spirit of Dante had been watching his entire performance from beyond the veil. But even through his horrendously irrepressible self-centered worries, Harry had enough sense to know when something was not about him, and it was seared into his mind by the hot tears that ran down Rose’s cheeks.

Stumbling over his own knees, Harry shot forward to touch his distraught friend on the arm, but Rose slipped out of his reach like she was nothing more than air. Hermione gripped her shoulders from behind, doing little to prevent the awful chokes that escaped Rose’s throat, muffled only by the hand pressed firmly to her lips.

“Rose,” whispered Hermione. “Oh Rose, I’m so sorry.” Rose opened her mouth in response, only giving way to a guttural gasp. Both Harry and Ron flinched at the noise, and the redheaded wizard pushed the remains of his lunch to the side. How could anyone have an appetite after hearing something like that?

Harry crawled across the blanket, but he found that for every inch closer he got, the more Rose flinched away from him. If Harry was honest, and he was, Rose had the air and appearance of an all too recent rape victim, drowning in trauma as she shied away from human touch. Needless to say, this only made Harry’s instincts to aid and comfort all the more powerful, if only Rose would give him the chance.

“Rose, it’s going to be okay,” he tried to say, but Rose just shook her head in her failing attempts to breathe, and at long last, weakened words finally left her lips.

“No…no…no!”

Rose was on her feet before her friends knew what was happening. She tried to scramble up as quickly as she could, but her despair had seemed to have robbed her of her balance, and she ate the dirt when her chin hit the ground. Still there was no stopping her. Without looking down at her filthy stockings, she took off down the valley. Her heels dug into soft earth, and her robes blew behind her in the air. All the blood rushed to her head as her eyes and face burned like fire, and the world deafened around her. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear. Everything she knew and felt was clouded, black, and red. And the foundation beneath her had already gone, leaving her to freely fall into a black void.

But then a great force stopped her, grabbing her around her torso and pulling her back, and Rose felt no pain as her knees hit the hard ground.

“No…let – _GO!_ ” she growled through teeth clenched so tightly they could crack.

“Rose, get ahold of yourself,” said Ron, deathly serious and not breaking his hold around Rose’s arms. If he had not stopped her frantic run by rugby-tackling her from behind, she might have gone off running into the Forbidden Forest. They had come to a stop mere meters from the edge of the wood. “Come on, girl, just calm down. Breathe –,”

“No!” Rose finally screamed, and she beat her fists into the grass and dirt in some unexplained struggle. “No – no – _no!_ ” By this time, Rose’s cries had started to attract the attention of students around the grounds, and Ron felt a little sick to be seen in this compromising position with a girl who was screaming bloody murder. He could also see a number of his younger housemates rushing off into the castle, no doubt to track down the remaining Seventh years and tell them about this. Thank Merlin that Hermione and Harry were right behind him. They came running to the place where he knelt with Rose, and they too fell to the ground with barely a grunt of impact.

“Oh god Rose, I’m sorry. I had no idea the letter would say that,” Harry tried to explain. “If there’s anything we can do, anything at all –!”

“Harry, shut up!” snapped Hermione. “The girl just found out that her best friend was in love with her. Give her some time to let that sink in!”

“I hate to tell you, but I think it sunk in around half a mile ago,” said Ron. He was now trying to rub Rose’s shaking arms while at the same time making sure that she couldn’t bolt again. “God, Hermione, do something! Do something before she has an all-out fit!”

Hermione looked at Rose, and she felt her heart land in her pelvis. Her roommate, her best female friend and steadfast companion, had been reduced to a screaming wretch in Bedlam by one letter. Not since Dante died had she seen Rose in such a devastated state, the violent despair of raw grief. Not even the near ending of her affair with Severus had stirred such a terrible sight. And that was when Hermione was reminded of what it meant to see a heart truly broken. There was no easy way to do this. There was nothing that could be done that would not be painless in any form. But even if her brilliant brain was screaming for her to find another method of helping her dear friend cope, the words slipped from her lips before she knew what she was doing.

“It’s going to be alright,” she said with a shaky voice, touching Rose’s wet cheek. Rose’s clenched her eyes shut, releasing huge teardrops with the high-keening sob that racked through her body.

“No, it’s not,” she whimpered. “It’s not alright, and it’s never going to be!”

“Rose, please,” begged Hermione. “We knew that there was this possibility, and I am so sorry you had to find out this way. But it’s all beyond your control now. Please, don’t let yourself go now. Think about the positives. You loved Dante with all your being right to the very end, but now we know that he died loving you just as much. More than that, you were the love of his life!”

“Yeah,” agreed Harry. “At least there is no more mystery in this. He loved you, Rose, and you can rest easy knowing that he loved you. And I tell you, I’d go so far to say that he really did give his life for you. You are so lucky to have had someone who cared for you so much that they would die for you. Because of Dante, you got the chance to live. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t have all the wonderful things you have today, like Severus and the baby.”

Hermione nudged her way closer to wrap an arm around Rose’s shoulder, thus giving Ron the opportunity to release her from his grip. “That’s right, Rose. Just think about that. Dante wanted you to have a good life, to find love again, and you have! You’ve said it yourself that Severus is the greatest love you’ve ever known, and Dante would be so happy to know that you two found each other. He would be so proud of the things you have done for Severus, what you are going to do for him and the baby. You’re building a future, just as he hoped.”

Rose suddenly slammed her fists down onto the ground again, this time digging her nails into the rough earth. “You don’t understand,” she croaked. “It’s all wrong!”

“Come on, Rose,” said Harry. “Help us to understand. Why is it wrong?”

Rose involuntarily gasped for air, her body quaking under Hermione’s hand. “I – I can’t.”

“Harry, don’t push her.”

“But Hermione, Rose needs help. How can we help her if we don’t know a fucking thing?”

“Please, just stop!” The argument ceased to exist at the sound of Rose’s voice. She had regained no strength, but even she couldn’t listen to this nonsense anymore. Gripping the ground, she felt as helpless as she looked, and her bleeding heart throbbed with every beat. Behind closed, wet eyes, Dante’s pale, beautiful face and bright smile taunted her cruelly. Nothing, absolutely nothing could make this better. She wanted to be saved from this pain, but she would suffocate herself before telling her friends the depth of this grief. Why couldn’t they see through her the way Severus could? Why couldn’t they just know?

“You just don’t get it,” she whimpered, almost to herself. “This wasn’t supposed to happen…it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

**~HP~**

It was just before his first afternoon class when Severus first heard the whispers. A ragtag bunch of Fourth years were telling of a strange commotion out on the grounds during lunch hour. A girl had had a violent emotional breakdown out of nowhere, and it left her convulsing by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Apparently, it was one of the Seventh years, they were sure of that. The gossip was quick to spread, and a few younger Ravenclaws could place Harry Potter at the scene. That made Severus feel slightly ill; he was just jumping to conclusions, he told himself. But the stone of worry settled nicely into his chest when his double class of Gryffindor and Slytherin Fifth years arrived, and a name was finally overheard amongst the quiet chatter.

Severus had to resist an unbearable urge to fly to Rose’s side when he heard the disjointed story from across his classroom. He had been prepared for something like this to happen, but there was always a part of him that secretly hoped that his concerns would be for nothing. And truthfully speaking, with the weight of his pregnancy constantly pulling him down, he did not have the energy to leave the dungeons and find his troubled girlfriend. Severus had to wait for her to come to him, and it was inevitable that she would. All Severus could do was thank his lucky stars that Rose’s friends were there, and he hoped that they were somehow able to work their strange magic on her that had always talked her off the ledge before.

But then he saw her when she arrived for class, and the familiar nausea settled in. Not since the attack that nearly killed her had he seen Rose look so bloody awful. The blood had gone from her face, and the pastiness it left her with made the bruising circles under her eyes more noticeable. Her hair was disheveled, something she would never allow in her right mind. And the bloodshot eyes that stared off into the distance were enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs. To Severus, Rose looked like she had stood on the very edge of Hell itself, and he couldn’t do anything more than watch her from behind his desk.

It was bad enough to be heavily pregnant and helpless, but it felt worse when Rose’s untouchable status reared its head when he wanted to be near her the most.

The day’s lesson went exactly as Severus expected it to, which was a silent lecture followed by dutiful brewing by the noticeably subdued Seventh years. It was a review lesson, so Severus hadn’t expected there to be too much of a fuss. But be that as it may, it was still a little unsettling to be there. Never in his teaching career had his classroom been so quiet, at least not without a threat of certain peril. But none of them looked as though they had been coerced into submission. They simply treated him with a quiet respect, solidifying the mood of the next twenty-four hours or so. Not wanting to burden himself needlessly, Severus did what he could to ignore them, and he paid no mind to the flinches he saw every time he adjusted how his collar fit around his neck.

He was marking papers for another class when he briefly looked up to check on the students’ progress. His eyes glided over the rows of seats, but he froze when he saw something most startling. Rose had completely stopped what she was doing. She hadn’t finished light-years ahead of her classmates. Actually, her potion was nowhere near completion. Bottles and half-butchered ingredients littered the desk top, pushed away until some were teetering on the edge, and the book lay forgotten by the cauldron. Rose herself meanwhile simply held her face in her hands, using the desk for support, and stared off into blank space. But even if her expression was as empty as it ever was, her distant eyes showed just how much she was drowning in her own thoughts. The only movement she made was the occasional blink to clear her glassy vision.

Now Severus really felt like he was going to be sick. He suddenly realized that Rose had yet to spare him a passing glance, in that moment, in that class, much of that day. If Rose was in distress, why hadn’t she come to him? What had happened that had her acting like this? Much like the iceberg that foundered the great unsinkable ship, Severus always knew that the greatest danger was unseen, and his instincts kicked into overdrive. Something was wrong…very, very wrong.

“Miss Beckett…” he said, getting the class’s attention in addition to Rose, who glanced over at him with painfully blank eyes. Severus hauled himself out of his chair, feeling the weight of his condition despite the Feather-weight Charm, and he slowly stalked over to the desk in the middle of the desk. Rose’s bloodied blue eyes followed his every step.

“Yes sir?” she said; her voice was barely a whisper.

“Care to tell me why you have not finished your potion?” Severus arched his brow in a mask of his trademark glare. He hated that he had to speak to Rose like this again, but how would have he reacted if it was someone else? At this point, they could not afford any more suspicion from these hapless bystanders. “Have you suddenly decided that you are above the work?”

Rose didn’t answer. Instead, she let her eyes travel back down to the tabletop, wringing her fingers before her. This scared Severus; this just was not like his Rosie. No matter her state of mind or physical condition, Rose had always found it in her to trudge on. In that year alone, he had seen too many examples of such stubbornness and stamina. Not even the trauma of Alistair Beckett’s verbal humiliation had been able to stop her. But it was something else entirely to watch her sitting stiffly in her seat, pale and glossy as though she was trying with all her being not to cry. She was upset, perhaps even in some kind of pain. Panic riled up inside Severus, but those feelings had to be immediately and forcefully stifled. Grave circumstances and ominous anniversaries or not, no one could see his true concerns. His fear and worry had to become anger.

“Answer me!” he barked, making all including his target jump in their seats. Rose’s eyes darted frantically around the room, obviously seeking some sort of refuge in a way she hadn’t since she was a First year, still avoiding the Potions master’s glare. Her chin even trembled as she looked to her right side to seek comfort from Hermione. But she still refused to speak, and Severus clenched his fist at his side at the mere thought of what he had to do. There was no way he was going to get away with this without regret.

“Just who do you think you are, Beckett?” he snarled. “I have put far too much effort into you and your training, so much that your classmates’ heads would implode. And this is what you see fit to use it for? Wasting my time?! As a top performing student, I expect far greater from you than this, being reduced to a pampered, over-indulgent whelp. As it has been my exertions that you have so happily tossed out, I do believe that I am owed an explanation, and I want it now.”

Rose stared up at him for an eternity, and Severus could definitely see a hint of anger amongst the anguish. Now she appeared to have been personally offended, but this time, there was no violent outburst. After saying nothing for nearly an entire class, maybe longer, Rose finally bowed her head and muttered, “I’m sorry, Professor.”

“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” Severus bit out, though it didn’t provoke so much as a wince from Rose. He then turned back to his desk, but not before shooting one last look back at his lowly young girlfriend. Rose had completely folded and said nothing more. She merely picked up a knife and began to slowly cut up an already damaged root.

For the remainder of the lesson, Rose continued to work in her extremely slow pace. Even with small pointers from Hermione here and there, she still made small mistakes that she wouldn’t have made the day before. And Severus could not take his eyes off of her for even one minute. Even if he was surrounded by profound idiot teenagers who did not deserve to be working at this level, nothing else mattered but Rose. She was so far away from them that she couldn’t be reached. It seemed that there was constantly something on her mind that stole her away to somewhere incredibly bleak. And what really made Severus feel as though he had been punched in his pregnant gut was how Rose refused to look at him. He walked past her several times and she always kept her eyes firmly locked on her work, and each time she deliberately ignored his presence, a more sickening thought entered Severus’s frazzled mind.

Was it him? Had he done something wrong to upset her so?

Suddenly, Severus saw his worst nightmare coming true. Was Rose dealing with a personal problem that she decided he had no part of, or was she acting this way because she was distancing herself from him? Was she not acknowledging him because she was quieting contemplating ending her relationship with him? And if so, what had he done that she no longer wanted to be with him?

Finally, just when Severus was reaching the end of his rope, the bell rang out. All potions were bottled up and the class began to make their way out into the halls. Rose had only gotten through three fourths of her potion, but she did not appear to be terribly disappointed by that. As students filed past him, setting their bottled potions on the desk in front of him, Severus kept his face bowed to the papers in front of him, but he still could not tear himself from the sight in the center of the room. Rose was quietly arguing with Hermione now, the veins in her neck popping out in the advent of imminent tears. There was a desperate strain in both their eyes. What really got Severus’s attention was the way Hermione subtly pointed in his direction, only to receive a firm shake of the head from Rose. Back and forth this went for what felt like forever, but as the last few students were leaving, Rose gave a hard sigh, and she corked her failed potion. Like a ghost, she slowly approached Severus’s desk, and she set her bottle down by the others. She then turned on her heel to flee the dungeon.

“Rose…” Severus tried to say, but he was too late. Rose was already gone, and again without a look back. Hermione was off in a flash of dark bushy hair to follow her. And once they had dropped off their small specimens, Potter and Weasley were after her, leaving Severus alone with a slightly confused Draco.

“What was that all about?” said the younger Slytherin, asking the obvious. But when he turned his gray eyes from the door to his pregnant godfather, his face turned three shades of white when he got a look at Severus’s hard expression. Concern quickly dropped into his tone as he muttered. “Severus, are you alright?”

“Yes Draco, I’m fine,” said Severus. He had hoped to keep the strength in his voice, but dread and sadness had settled nicely into his deep voice, making it crack in the most humiliating of ways. Draco obviously didn’t buy that for one second.

“Don’t lie to me, Severus.” Draco came around his desk and approached the front of the room to face his pseudo-uncle. “You don’t look well at all. What’s wrong? Is something wrong with the baby?”

“Nothing is wrong with the baby, Draco. Just go away. I want to be left alone.” Severus hauled himself to his feet, feeling so hugely heavy and pregnant despite his Glamour Charms, and he started for his office. He knew exactly where all this was going; he could feel it in his gut, and he needed to get out of sight while he still could.

“Come on, Severus,” Draco persisted. “Talk to me. What did I miss? Did you and Rose have another row?”

“We did not have a row!” snapped the tense wizard. “Now just listen to me, and go away!”

Draco looked absolutely dreadful at that; it was pathetic how conflicted he could be when torn between his concern as a friend and his obedience as a favored pupil. But in the end, his desire to please won out, and he staggered across the floor until he got to the door. He noticeably swallowed as he disappeared out into the halls. Once he was gone, Severus quickly locked himself into his office, and without even thinking, acting on bare instinct left from all those months ago, he stumbled into his tiny bathroom, and promptly vomited into the toilet.

**~HP~**

Remus and Cassandra had decided to spend their shared free period by taking a leisurely walk around the castle. On a lovely day like that, it seemed the appropriate thing to do, and they both noticed how that seemed to distract from the somber mood of the following night’s events. Although, having spent such a considerable amount of time together in the last several days, it wasn’t likely that either of them would have turned down the idea anyway.

“You know, if you still want to show a film to your Third year class, you should take a look through my collection,” Cassandra suggested as the two of them strolled through the eastern courtyard of the ground floor. “I know they’re Muggle films, but they could help show the kids what vampires are like in reality as opposed to fiction.”

“Ah Cassie,” said Remus with a smirk. “I’m not sure my students would appreciate that sort of art the way yours do.” Cassandra let a little giggle slip from her lips, and Remus felt his smile growing.

It had been so long since he had enjoyed a woman’s company this much. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t take joy in being with his late wife, but the period in time had distracted both him and Tonks from a proper romance. They barely had the chance to be together, much less marry and produce a son. But such a whirlwind of a relationship had only made his love for Nymphadora stronger in the end. Now it felt odd to be having a casual conversation with a lady alone, and a lovely lady at that. Maybe he had been kidding himself for all this time, ignoring the cheeks of teacher and student alike. What Remus was feeling for Cassandra now was what he should have felt for Nymphadora when they first met. So why was it that he still couldn’t relax and let it happen? Oh, Remus was an errant fool, and he would maintain it until the day when Severus physically shoved him out for a dinner date with their Muggle enthusiast colleague.

They had barely gotten to the eastern courtyard when Draco Malfoy suddenly came dashing up to them, pushing aside every student in his way with a tense, pale face. Remus offered him a hand to steady himself once he came to a stop, but the younger wizard just shook his head as he bent in over himself to catch his breath.

“Mister Malfoy, what’s the hurry?” asked Cassandra, perhaps a little too casually as Draco sneered up at her, and Remus quickly stepped in to take charge of the conversation.

“What’s going on, Draco?” he asked. “What’s the problem?”

“Severus,” panted Draco. “There’s something wrong with him. I don’t know what it is, but he needs help.”

Remus had to think about that for all of five seconds before the realization hit like a rock to the back of his head. “Oh dear god…” he gasped, and he suddenly took off in the direction of the entrance into the halls, barely giving Cassandra a chance to think before she stumbled over her high heels to catch up with him.

“Cassie, no!” he barked. “Let me handle this.”

“But Remus,” Cassandra gaped at him. “Severus, he could be –,”

“I know what he could be, but let me take care of him this time. Trust me Cassie, it would only make it worse if you were there when you weren’t wanted. I promise that if I need any assistance, I will call for you. But for now, just stay up here.” Cassandra was obviously reluctant to the idea of letting Remus throw himself into who knows what alone, but biting her lip gently, she nodded her head with her big brown eyes shimmering with concern. Remus then turned and got a running start, heading for the nearest staircase.

On his way down to the dungeons, Remus managed to knock over nearly six of his students in his haste. A flood of terrible thoughts were rushing through his head, nearly all of which involved Severus lying on the floor in the throes of labour, crying out in agony. But as he rounded the corner that would take him to the Potions classroom, the werewolf had to actually force himself to stop and compose himself. Even without Cassandra there with him, Severus was still very susceptible to stress in his perilously delicate condition, and the last thing any of them needed was panic. Even though Remus didn’t quite know what to expect, he thought back to the night when Nymphadora went into labour with Teddy, and repeating that old father-to-be mantra to himself in his head, he took in a massive cleansing breath before stepping forward again.

Severus’s last class of the day had already gathered when Remus arrived, and the way that they turned their heads in his direction reminded the DADA professor of a bunch of nervous rabbits. Immediately, Remus knew that wasn’t a good sign. Obviously, these kids hadn’t seen their Potions master yet. Without giving away much of his concern, Remus casually walked through the desks, avoiding eye contact with his pupils, and approached Severus’s closed office door. He gave an awkward glance back at the waiting students before knocking.

“Professor?” he called out softly, pressing his ear to the door. He got no response, and he called out for Severus again. “Your class is waiting, Professor. Don’t make me come in there!” Again, there was no response, and Remus heaved a sigh. But then, just as he was getting ready to turn around and address the class, the lock clicked. Remus took this as a good step forward; Severus was actually willing to let him in. And frankly, that was all he needed right now. He swiftly let himself in and shut the door behind him.

“Oh my god!” he gasped when his eyes fell on a delirious-looking Severus on the floor, leaning against the bathroom door. One hand was plastered across his pasty face, which was visibly sweaty even from that distance. The other was gripping his massive middle, as though in pain. And the rigidness in his apparent weakness was all too familiar to those who had encountered Severus over the course of his pregnancy. The faint smell of sick in the room solidified Remus’s suspicions.

Before he even thought to do anything else, the werewolf went into some sort of strange educator’s autopilot. He practically threw himself back out into the classroom, and as calmly as he could, he dismissed Severus’s class, explaining that the Potions master had suddenly taken ill. Of course, probably for reasons of dubious concern, the students shuffled out as though they were being chased by a swarm of violent pixies. But Remus was perfectly satisfied with that. He rushed back into Severus’s office and bolted them both in before dashing to Severus’s side.

“Remus…” Severus croaked in a raspy tone as he looked up at his friend and colleague. It was then that Remus noticed how his cheeks were stained from heavy, forced tears, and he felt the panic shoot through his veins.

“Oh lord, Severus, what happened?” he asked, cupping the side of Severus’s face in his hand. “How long have you been sick? Are you having contractions? Do I need to call for Poppy?”

“No, just – Remus, stop!” Severus glanced around quickly and incoherently. He then suddenly jerked to the side, swatting Remus’s hand away. Forcing the bathroom door open, he crawled as fast as his heavy stomach would allow, and then propped himself over the toilet bowl in anticipation of the next round of heaving.

Remus followed the pregnant wizard in, and he crouched down to kneel on the floor beside him. He reached out a careful hand to rub comforting circles into the other man’s back. “Take it easy, Severus. Deep breaths, just like that. Merlin, what brought this on? You were fine this morning.”

“Something’s terribly wrong, Remus,” said Severus. He let out a sigh as he rested his head on the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. “Rose…something’s wrong with her.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Remus. “Is this about what the kids have been saying about her? Severus, we know Rose has been through some tough days recently, and whatever it is that she was upset about, I’m sure it will pass once she talks it out with you.”

“But that’s it!” snapped Severus, his black eyes tensing. “She won’t talk to me. Remus, in all the time I have known her, I have never seen Rose like that. She couldn’t concentrate on her potion in class, and she could hardly speak to anyone. Remus, she could barely even look me in the eye when I confronted her! I tried to see what was wrong, but she just ran off, without so much as a glance at me! She’s so unlike herself that it’s sickening!”

“And I see you mean that literally,” Remus couldn’t help himself as the words left his lips, and Severus choked down a heave in response. Swallowing hard, Remus sweated out how he could possibly approach this without upsetting the sick and distraught wizard any more. “Severus, just try to calm yourself enough to think about this. Rose has had these types of spells before. Something happens in her life, it upsets her, and the way she deals with it is by pulling away from people. But she always comes around in the end. You know she does, Severus.”

“But she never ran away from me,” Severus moaned. “Only when…only when I offended her.”

“Oh Severus, this has nothing to do with you,” comforted Remus. “What happened last time with Lily was something that had been brewing for a long time. And remember, Rose came back to you in the end! You two didn’t have a row recently, have you?”

“No,” Severus muttered, shaking his head.

“Then what is making you think that this is your fault?”

Severus gripped the toilet bowl with tight, white fingers, and he slowly pushed himself away until his back hit the bathroom wall with a terrible thud. Remus flinched hard, but Severus waved him off in a way to say that he wasn’t hurt. He then cradled his head in his hands with his elbows gently propped atop his baby-bump. “She always came to me when she was in trouble,” he explained. “No matter what it was, she wanted me to comfort her. Just think of the times that I have seen her through, Remus. You saw how she struggled through, and how I was there to see her through it all. The only time she ever turned to someone else was when I almost lost her to one bloody slip of the tongue. That’s the only other time I’ve seen her so upset. So what else is there to think? What if she had that fit out on the grounds because of something I did? What if it’s not what I did, but just me in general? Remus, what if she’s suddenly rethinking everything I have put her through, and she’s decided that she’s had enough?!”

Now Remus was angry. He was concerned, but definitely angry. Of all the people to know how fragile Severus was in these last weeks of pregnancy, Rose was the chief among them. As worried as he was for Rose’s state of mind or what might have set her off in the way she had, she knew better than to put stress on Severus. Remus had known the young witch for long enough to say he knew her well, but this was a sad display of selfishness that he knew she was above. More than that, Remus knew that if this was ever to be made right, if Severus was to regain control of himself so he wouldn’t end up working himself into labour, it would have to be done through a third party, one who was not quite as emotionally invested.

“I’ll sort this,” he told Severus, resting his hand on his friend’s trembling shoulder. “I will go find Rose, and I will talk to her. Once I hear her side of the story, then I will send her down to you. But Severus, I need you to do one thing, and that is to settle down. Remember that Rose is hurting too, we just don’t know what about. She still needs you, and I think she would be greatly disturbed to hear that in your concern for her, you have made yourself ill.”

Severus rapped the back of his head against the wall; not hard enough to cause any real damage, but enough to produce sound. He also pressed his hands to his face as he groaned into his palms. “What’s happened to me, Remus?” he asked. “If everyone out there could see me right now, blubbering and vomiting needlessly, and all over a girl –,”

“My friend, that’s what love does to a man, love and hopped-up hormones,” said Remus. He got up off the floor, and he bent over slightly to help Severus with standing. “Now come on, let me take you back to your rooms.”

**~HP~**

Once they made the short, but laborious walk back to the Potions master’s quarters, Remus took it upon himself to heat up some broth for Severus to sip on. It was an unpleasant afternoon treat, but he needed to be sure that the pregnant man was getting protein back into his system so that he wouldn’t become too weak. After that, it was straight off to the bedroom, though this time it was Severus who made the demand. Remus was glad to let his friend rest, and he stayed there talking to him for a short while. He didn’t even mind that his own class might have gone completely AWOL by then. He could only assume that someone took care of them on his behalf, and that any trouble would be quickly understood by the headmaster.

Severus fell asleep not long after the last bell rang, and Remus just had to take the chance to stroke that huge bump before quietly creeping across the floor. Outside, the door gave a guttural creak as it drifted closed behind him. The locked clicked, the wards went up, and a new sense of determination took hold. Remus turned down the hall to begin his search for Rose.

He ran into Cassandra just as he arrived on the fourth floor. By the looks of it, the slightly flustered witch was just on her way down in search of him, and she nearly clapped for joy when they almost knocked heads coming around a corner.

“I watched your class for you,” she told him. “I had them review the chapter on shape shifters for the whole period. How’s Severus? Is he alright?”

“He’s okay,” said Remus. “He just got a bit ill for a moment there. He’ll be fine in a few hours. But enough about that, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“Anything Remus,”

“Rose Beckett,” Remus began, dropping his voice down slightly to stop anyone from overhearing. “When was the last time you saw her today?”

“Oh,” mused Cassandra. Her brow suddenly wrinkled in a way that suggested that was one of the last questions she expected to get. “I – I haven’t seen her since she left my classroom this morning. I have been meaning to talk to her, you know, since Pomona told me about her little meltdown outside. I just wanted to know what was wrong with the poor dear. But she moves quicker than many of our ghosts, I reckon.”

“Do you have any ideas about where she might be now? Ordinarily I would ask Severus, but given his current state, I have been forced to look elsewhere.”

“I would have thought that you would find Rose in Severus’s classroom,” Cassandra commented. “Isn’t that the place most people expect to see her these days?”

“If she’s not with you, she’s with Severus,” said Remus. “But Severus said that she bolted after his class, and he hasn’t seen her since. Somehow, I don’t think that helped him feel any better.”

“Well…” The Muggle Studies tapped her chin with a dainty fingernail as she thought. “On my way here, I did see Potter and Weasley exiting the library. I can only assume that they were there because of Hermione Granger. Perhaps if you go there, you can still find her and ask about Rose. She would probably know what happened to her.”

Remus was seconds away from rejecting the idea when a thought suddenly occurred to him. He knew that Rose needed shelter in crisis; she often tried to hide it behind a desire for solitude, but she was never right until she was forced to talk. If Severus was not the safety she would eventually seek, then it would have to be Hermione. Remus could only assume what had gone on between the two young witches since September, what conversations and secrets were shared in their tiny dormitory at the top of Gryffindor tower. Therefore, Hermione had to know what made her friend tick, and what to do to make it all better for her, even if only as a temporary fix. He quickly thanked Cassandra for the suggestion, and then brushed past her as he headed down the corridor.

By some amount of ill-humored luck, he caught the frazzled Head Girl just as she was exiting the library, her usual tower of books in hand. The moment caught sight of her friend and professor walking up to her, her face flinched, and her eyes darted down the opposite end of the hall. But her integrity and loyalty seemed to discredit whatever lie she was about to come up with, and Remus decided to nip this nasty little Granger fib in the bud before she had the chance to embarrass herself.

“She’s in there, isn’t she?” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and let his arms relax into the stance. Hermione bit her lip slightly, and she glanced behind her looking terribly guilty.

“She told me to leave her alone,” she explained. “I tried to tell her to take the afternoon off. I mean, she already skipped out on her Divination lesson. But she wouldn’t listen to me. She just kept rambling on about this essay she had to finish for Muggle Studies.”

“And I’ll bet that you didn’t buy that for one minute.” Remus cocked both his brow and his head at his brilliant student, almost challenging her to dispute his claim, but since when was it that Hermione would deny anything that did not involve educational weak points or her soft spot for red-headed wizards? True to form, she gave a little sigh as she shook her head and gripped her books tighter.

“Look, Rem – Professor Lupin, I tried to tell her that she needed to talk about…about what happened.”

“What exactly did happen, Hermione?” asked Remus.

“That I can’t say,” Hermione replied quickly. “I promised Rose that I wouldn’t tell anyone. But in any case, she’s really upset, and she needs to talk about it, but she’s refusing. She’s shutting down, and I’m worried about her.”

“I understand,” Remus mused aloud. He straightened himself out slightly in his teacherly sort of manner in preparation for what he had to say next. “Hermione, I know you’re only trying to help, but it is important that I speak to Rose as soon as possible. Not for my sake, but for Professor Snape’s. You think you’re worried? Imagine how he’s feeling at the moment.”

That apparently was all that needed to be said. Hermione turned slightly as she loosened up a hand from under her pile of books, and she pointed into the vast chamber of shelves. “She’s in the back, in one of the private study rooms,” she said. “But please, don’t be too hard on her. I told her it was a bad idea to run away from Professor Snape.” And with that, she slunk off down the hall, quickly disappearing around a corner.

Remus was careful in his approach when he entered the library, but it was evident that he was there for a purpose. As he passed each line and section of books, he glanced in either direction, ever on the lookout for his quarry. And he didn’t respond to anyone who approached him, not even Madam Pince when she asked if there was something he required. He was focused only on his destination. He wound his way through that labyrinth until he finally came to the long row of tiny rooms that made up the private study section, and there, amongst the many doors that hung wide open in the middle of the afternoon, one was shut. Remus quietly walked up, the heels of his shoes softly clacking beneath him, and noticing that the door was not locked, he slowly pushed it open.

Sitting at the corner desk by herself, Rose leaned her elbows on the hard wooden surface, hunched over a book. Remus looked a little closer to see that it was a copy of _The Principles of Muggle Medicine._ His brow furrowed; how could she feel that it was necessary to keep up this educational charade? Remus shook his head as he stepped inside.

“Hello Rose,” he said softly. As Remus approached her, Rose’s eyes traveled away from the book in front of her to eventually meet her professor’s amber gaze.

“Hello Professor Lupin,” said Rose, forcing a smile, and then went back to her book. In that spilt second, Remus got his chance to take the sight of a nauseatingly pale face and eyes so bloodshot that he could feel the pain himself. “What do you want?”

“I – uh,” Remus started, though he suddenly found his throat to be a little dry. “I was hoping I could have a word with you for a moment. I can see that you’re a little busy – what is this, Muggle Studies?”

“Yes,” Rose nodded. “But…but I guess it could wait.”

Remus wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that. Wasn’t this the same class work that was so important that she had to shoo away her friends for it? But he didn’t care about the inner workings of this girl’s mind, just that he needed to pick at it enough to resolve this mass confusion, to get his certain point across. “Well then,” he said authoritatively. “If you don’t mind sparing a moment, I’d like to take a stroll over to my classroom.”

Rose’s expression didn’t change, nor did she speak. But she did rise from her seat, grabbing her book, as well as her copy of _Pills, Potions, and the kooky things they make you do._ Placing the books on the return trolley, she followed Remus out of the library.

It wasn’t a long walk to the DADA classroom, but given how Rose was usually so conversational, the awkward silence between them was a bit much for Remus. He tried to entice Rose with some small talk. “So…you are studying Muggle health care, are you?”

“Yes, yes we are,” Rose mumbled from behind.

“Hermione mentioned that you have a big assignment coming up for that.”

“Report’s due on Monday.”

Oh, it was getting worse by the minute! It was as though these two had never met a day in their lives, much less spoken. Thank heavens that they didn’t have long to suffer. Remus sighed as they came up on his empty classroom, and he pushed the door open to allow Rose to enter first. He shut the door behind them, locking it as Rose approached the window at the side of the room.

“Alright Remus, what gives?” asked the witch, turning back to her professor. “What’s so important that you have to lock us in?”

“What’s going on, Rose?” said Remus. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Who gave you the idea that something’s wrong?” Rose lifted herself up to sit on the short bookshelf, settling down next to the tank where this year’s nasty grindylow swam angrily.

“Oh no one,” Remus sighed as he leaned back onto the edge of his desk. “No one except Professor Wicker, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and just about every Seventh year I have come into contact with since this morning.”

 Rose groaned in her throat, knocking the back of her head against the edge of the window. “Sure, believe everyone but me. Remus, I’m perfectly alright.”

“Oh, I would beg to differ,” said the werewolf. “Rose, you look dreadful. You look as though you had a run-in with a Dementor. What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Rose reaffirmed, quite tensely at that.  “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“I would say so. As pale as you are now, you look as though someone died.”

He had barely finished speaking when it occurred to Remus that those were exactly the wrong words to say. At the drop of a hat, Rose’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up faster than Remus had ever seen. She then turned her head away with enough force that it could have broken her neck. Remus, startled by this sudden and drastic change of emotion, rushed over to his student, already crying into the palm of her hand.

“Oh no, no, no, don’t cry,” he muttered quickly. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“No one ever does,” Rose growled, biting back the tears. Wiping her eyes, she hurled herself off the windowsill and charged for the door. “Look Remus, I don’t know what those sods told you, but I can handle myself perfectly well. We are all entitled to a bad day, and I don’t need any more fucking coddling and concern. None of them know what they’re talking about anyway.”

“Not even Severus Snape?”

A stone dropped in Rose’s stomach, and her hand froze just a touch away from the door handle. She slowly turned back to Remus with wide, wet blue eyes, and her trembling jaw did not relent. “What did he say to you?” she asked in a near whisper.

“You probably should have thought about what you were doing before you fled from the dungeons this afternoon, Rose,” said Remus. “Severus seems to have taken your rejection as a sign that he is the problem that has you moping around the castle.”

“He has nothing to do with it!” shouted Rose.

“Tell him that!” Remus shouted back. Oh, he hated to raise his voice to his students, especially when they were already broken down. But what choice did he have when that student was being as immovable as a stone wall? “I found him in his office hunched over himself, throwing up into the toilet in between sobs. Sick, Rose – he was sick because of you! So don’t yell at me and say that he has nothing to do with this until you give me a reason to believe it!”

Rose choked on a sob, and she beat her hands against the door, the impact thundering through the ancient wood. Clenching her teeth beyond the point of pain, she felt her insides twist that the thought of her beloved Severus so overwrought, enough to be physically ill. Her instincts pushed her to run to his side, but how could she when it was all her fault. Once again, she had caused Severus too much stress, more than he could handle in his heavily pregnant state. The only thing that stopped her from falling to the stone floor was the soft hand that touched her on the shoulder.

“Rose, what happened?” asked Remus.

“It’s a long story, Remus,” Rose croaked, leaning on the door for support.

“Life is just one long story.” Remus draped his arm around Rose’s wilting shoulders, and he led her over to sit down at a desk by the window, taking the seat beside her. “And I have heard many in my lifetime. Come now, Rose, tell me about it. You know it will help you.”

“You’ll be mad at me.”

“Rose, I’m tired of being angry with you. I just want to help you, and I want to show Severus that he has nothing to fear from you. Now please, tell me what happened this morning.”

Rose paused, taking a moment to try and keep down the terribly pressure building up in her stomach. Remus always said that he wouldn’t get angry, but that always seemed to be the way things headed whenever she got involved. Rose knew he cared for her as his student, but he was never truly on her side of matters. He was loyal to Severus. And that was what fanned the flames of her fear as she took a deep breath in, and the words spilled from her mouth faster than she ever intended.

“I was in love with someone else.”

The world seemed to come to a screeching, grinding halt around Remus. What the bloody hell? Already, the wizard could feel his blood pressure steadily rising at the onslaught of thought. Truth be told, Remus had not yet recovered from the whole experience of getting Severus past his love for Lily. At least they had been preparing for that one for years. This could not have been more unexpected if it were even remotely possible. Never in the entire time that Remus had known about Severus’s affair with the young Gryffindor had he heard even a whisper that there may have been another man in Rose’s life. And like that, the strangely innocent picture that Severus had painted for him just shattered.

“Well…” he began. “That was…that was certainly unexpected.” What the fuck was he talking about?! What kind of reaction was that supposed to be? Really, if Rose wanted to hear such a blunt obviousness, she would have an easier time finding it in her own common room. But the horror of his sheepishness was quelled when Rose gave a small smirk and nodded, showing she understood and she was not completely drowned in melancholy.

“I’ll bet,” she murmured, leaning her elbow on the desk’s surface. She allowed Remus about three minutes of uncomfortable silence before speaking again. “I think this this is the part when you start asking questions. I know you must have them.”

“I should say so,” said Remus. “How long as this been going on?”

“It’s something I’ve been dealing with a long time,” Rose replied. “A few years.”

“You said that you _were_ in love with someone else. This old boyfriend of yours, he’s no longer in the picture, I take it?”

“No…no, he’s not. He’s been gone for a year now…and he was never my boyfriend.”

Remus had to admit that he was quite relieved to hear that. It would have been awful to have to know that Severus’s precious little flower had been keeping someone on the side. But then again, what other men had Rose been seen with other than Harry, Ron, and Draco? Remus thought hard, trying to think back to the past when he first taught at Hogwarts, when Rose was just another thirteen year-old girl he barely knew. When his mind failed to produce any familiar faces, he finally turned his face to Rose and asked, “What is his name?”

Rose bit her lip hard, which Remus rather expected, and she lowered her voice again as she said, “Do you remember a boy named Dante Macleod? He was in my year, Slytherin?”

Again, Remus thought back to the 1993 term. This time, it wasn’t very long before the image of a dark-haired, blue-eyed young man in Slytherin robes faded into his head. But with the face, he also remembered the last time he had heard that name mentioned. It was in the _Daily Prophet_ , on a list of those lost in the great battle that ended the war. Remus suddenly felt his stomach drop into his pelvis.

“Oh yes, I do remember him,” he said. “A fine lad, the son of Ministry officials. Killed in battle, I understand. He was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?”

“Ever since we first came here eight years ago,” said Rose. “He was my best friend, but as you could guess, he meant far more to me than that by our sixth year. I just wasn’t brave enough to tell him.”

Alright, now it all made sense. The tears and the dejection were merely a lasting sorrow brought on by grief, made worse by regret. “I’m so sorry, Rose.” Remus placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure that he loved you dearly.” Remus didn’t quite get the reaction he had hoped for. More tears started to flow, as though the blue in Rose’s eyes was melting ice.

“But that’s it,” she whimpered. “I always thought that Dante loved me as a friend. I was convinced that was all he felt for me. But something happened today that changed everything.”

“What happened, Rose?” asked Remus.

“This morning, Draco found a letter in the Slytherin common room. Dante wrote it sometime before he was killed. When we were reading it out by the lake, Dante wrote that it was his last words to me, in case he never got the chance to say them himself.” A single tear fell down Rose’s face. “He said…he said…” Remus tucked his finger under Rose’s shin, still trying to comfort her.

“What did he say?”

Rose paused and took a deep breath, letting more tears escape. “He said that he loved me like I loved him. He said that I was the only one for him, that I was the love of his life. And the words he used…oh god, it was him the whole way through.”

“Oh Rose,” Remus sighed. “I understand now.”

“Every day since the morning after the battle ended, I told myself t that I would never know how he really felt. I was convinced that he was my friend for all those years, and he was just my friend when he died. But now that I do know, in Dante’s own words…”

“You’re confused?” Remus offered, and Rose nodded.

“Confused, heartbroken, angry…Remus, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

With that, Rose completely folded and wept openly, crying loudly into her palms. Remus nearly sputtered as he tried to find the right thing to say; it occurred to him that she had a good amount of trust in him for this to happen at all. But he couldn’t just sit there and watch her cry. An old wound had been cruelly opened, and the poor thing needed as much comfort as she could get. Very slowly, Remus inched his chair closer to Rose, and he let her lean into an embrace, rubbing her back as she sobbed into his chest. Here he was again, playing the fatherly role for one of his young charges. But there was still something gravely wrong with this situation, and it had everything to do with one question. Why was Rose leaning on his shoulder and not that of her lover?

“So where does this leave poor Severus?”

“Huh?” hummed Rose; her voice was barely a breath.

“I’m sorry Rose, but this really is something we have to address.” Remus didn’t quite know what had come over him, but he decided that if he tried to be nice to a sad girl and danced around what would need to be said, then they would get absolutely nowhere. “Do you still love this boy?”

“I could never stop loving him, Remus.”

“But what about Severus?” asked Remus. “Has your grief for Dante Macleod made you forget your relationship with him?”

Rose took offence to that with a jerk of her head, and she couldn’t help but slam her palm down on the table under her hand. “I don’t believe you, Remus,” she gnashed. “You say that after all you’ve seen. My love and devotion for that man almost killed me, for fuck’s sake! You once said I was a slut, and my friends have called me a whore, and still I wasn’t so insulted.”

“So your feelings for him haven’t changed?” asked Remus, arching his brow skeptically.

“Of course not!” Rose suddenly leapt to her feet and swept across the room back over to the window. “I love him just as much now as I did when I woke up this morning, before I got that letter. But why do you keep badgering me about this? Do you not remember all that’s happened the last few months, what you saw only a few weeks ago? Why won’t you take my word for it?”

“Because even though you say that your love for him is great, you have you mentioned him by name not once since I sought you out.”

It took every bit of self-control that Rose had in her body to not reach into the tank and hurl the grindylow at Remus’s head.

“What do you know about my relationship?” she snarled. “What do you know about how I’m feeling right now? If your concern is for Severus only, then rest assured. My love for him has nothing to do with Dante. They are two separate feelings, and they both happened on their own.”

“And your love for Severus is superior?” Remus asked very carefully, though still with the gravity he needed to get the young witch to talk.

Rose sighed. “Remus, Severus is the love of my life. Last year, I thought I could never love anyone as much as I loved Dante, but obviously, I was wrong.”

The silence that filled the room was almost deafening. Remus couldn’t quite figure out if there was a response to a pretty solid statement such as that. Then he spoke. “Then why haven’t you spoken with him about this?”

“Severus?” Rose wrinkled her eyebrows, though Remus couldn’t see past her turned back.

“If you still love him, then why have you been avoiding him? When I saw him in his office, he said that you couldn’t even look at him in class.”

“I had a lot on my mind.”

“As I can see, but you went out of your way to not acknowledge him unless he acknowledged you first.” Remus crossed his arms across his chest, but his shoulders slumped when he heard the quiet snivel coming from the girl peering out into the bright sunlight. “I thought you knew that seeing you in distress is upsetting to Severus. In fact, it’s downright dangerous in his delicate condition. What were you thinking, Rose?”

“I…I didn’t want him to think that anything was wrong,” muttered Rose. That was a bogus excuse, and both she and Remus knew that. The ordinarily kindly werewolf walked up behind Rose, and he leaned against the wall so that he could actually look her in the eye when he spoke.

“Well, obviously you thought wrong,” he said. “I have to tell you Rose, I am very disappointed in you right now. I know today has been difficult for you, as will tomorrow, but you let your emotions distract you from the one thing that matters to you the most.”

“But Severus knows me,” said Rose. “He knows that his wellbeing is my main focus. And it’s not like this is that easy for him either. He’s been tense for days, what with the anniversary, and the baby coming soon –,”

“But it was you that pushed him over the edge.”

Rose slammed her hands down on the windowsill, holding back a cry that sought to escape clenched teeth. “Why are you doing this to me, Remus?” she whimpered. “Why are you making me the villain in this when I already feel like I might die?”

“Because I care –,”

“You care about Severus, I know. But you know, I do too! You don’t think I know what tomorrow is, but I do. I didn’t want Severus to be worrying about me when he should really be looking back on a year ago, to be thankful for everything he has now, thankful to be alive! Don’t you get it? I was trying to protect him!”

“Then why don’t you go tell him that?” said Remus. Tears once again started to well up in Rose’s eyes, and the professor placed his hand on her shoulder. “He really loves you, Rose. I’ve seen him in distress plenty of times, but I have never seen a man get that upset over a girl.”

“But what about Godric’s Hollow?” asked Rose. “Was he not upset then?”

“That was a very different experience for him. That was about letting go of the past to move on with his future. But today, he thought he might not have a future because he thought he had wronged you in some way. He thought that your behavior was a sign that you were preparing to leave him.”

Rose’s face twisted into a look that was a strange blend of hurt and concern. “But…but that’s not true,” she said, her voice small and wounded.

“He won’t believe it until he hears it from you. And you know, if he was thinking rationally, he would probably want to do nothing but to help you feel better. Think about it for a moment. Do you remember how you felt when that talk of Lily first came up, how you felt when we were at Godric’s Hollow?”

“Yes…” said Rose. “I felt like shit.”

“Well, that is how Severus is feeling tonight, as we speak. Right now, he needs you to reassure him. He needs you to tell him that you will still be there when the sun rises tomorrow morning, and that you will stand with him through that memorial service. And as far as your feelings for Dante Macleod are concerned, I think that the best thing you could do is to talk to Severus. Let him know how you feel. Personally, I don’t think you could find more comfort than from the one person who loves you most.”

Rose wiped her eyes dry and turned back from the window. She sighed before she said, “I just wish I knew what he would say.”

“I think I do,” said Remus. “I think he will understand exactly what you are going through. After all, it was him who was feeling this pain in Godric’s Hollow. It’s not easy to lose someone you love, but we all must move on and live our lives. I did, and so did Severus. Now you have to take that step.”

“I know.” Rose blinked hard and slow, trying to stop the burning in her eyes. At long last, she had drained herself of the tears that would bring her relief. “Just look at me. I’m doing exactly what Dante didn’t want me to do.”

“What is that?” asked Remus.

“Mourn him,” said Rose quietly. “When he was writing that letter, Dante wanted me to know that he didn’t want my life to stop when his ended. He specifically told me that he wanted me to live my life to the fullest, as if he was still there with me. He even said that he hoped that I find a man who loves me as much as he did.”

“And look at that, you did.”

“But he asked that of me like it was so easy to forget about him. Yeah, I’m in love with someone else. But Dante was still my friend…my best friend. He was my whole world.”

“But you cannot forget what you have now,” Remus told her. “It’s often hard to accept, but lives change, and sometimes in ways we neither expect nor want. You can’t wander about your life wondering about what could have been. You can never be truly happy that way.”

“As if I haven’t heard that before,” grumbled Rose. “Merlin, I am such a hypocrite. I was saying the same shit to Severus in Godric’s Hollow.”

“It’s always easier to comfort than to grieve,” Remus shook his head at the unpleasant memories that had taught him that grim little lesson. “And you can never tell how long the grief will last. But Macleod was right. You shouldn’t have to feel like this forever. Let me ask you this; do you want to be with Severus, help him raise his child, and build a new world with him?”

“Yes,” Rose nodded, but before she could say anything else, Remus pointed to the door and said, “Then go and tell him everything you just told me. Tell him more. Let him help you through this, and just let him see that you still love him. It’s awful to see a man that broken up for no good reason.”

A sudden flood of voices outside the room signaled the mass migration of students down to the Great hall, and Rose instinctively made her way over to the closed door. “I’m going to get something for Severus to eat. He won’t be coming up for dinner, I expect. I’ll just tell the others that I’m going to bed early tonight.”

“And judging by what I have heard, they will let you go with a grand sendoff,” Remus commented, feeling his blood pressure gradually going down. He felt so much better knowing that Rose would be spending the night with Severus. More than that, he felt better knowing that she was going to try and get some food in him. He suddenly found himself wondering if there was anything sweet in the kitchens that he could smuggle down to the dungeons for her. “No need to worry about anything else, Rose. If anyone asks, I will cover for the two of you as best I can.”

“Thanks,” replied Rose. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused everyone.” She went to open the door, but she suddenly paused as the skin of her palm touched the handle. She turned back to Remus with a rather childlike innocence in her eyes.

“Yes Rose?” asked the wizard across the room.

“Do you still miss your wife?”

Remus was almost stunned, but after a short moment of reflection, he offered Rose a supportive smile. “Every day,” he admitted. “But that’s not going to stop me when I meet someone special.” Something tickled him when he realized that he might have already met that someone, and his smile softened when he thought of Cassandra. He noticed how Rose was blushing behind her hair as she left. Remus briefly wondered if she could tell who he was thinking of, but he preferred to think of it as a sign that Rose was turning her chin up a little.

Silently, he wished her a great amount of luck. As bad as he felt for Severus, overwrought with despair and crippled by it, he knew it was better to still have that feeling than to be an empty shell of grief.

**~HP~**

So then it was that Rose rejoined the hordes of busy students with a face no brighter, and shoulders still stooped. Even though her talk with Remus had relieved some of the crushing pressure on her chest, she still had a long way to go before her heart was fully healed. And of course, the day was not yet over. Rose could feel herself becoming slightly ill as she thought of what unsavory chore she now had to do before night’s end, and it felt worse knowing that she had no way out of it. But even as the demons of her grief continued to work their terrible spell on her already beaten soul, Rose tried with everything she had left to cling to her determination. Severus was hurting, but he didn’t need to be, and only her word could bring the relief he needed. But as she told Remus, Rose had her reasons for not talking about Dante in her lover’s presence, and no matter which way she approached it, she felt that sympathy was something that she just would not find in the man she still loved beyond any other.

Severus might have been afraid that Rose was leaving him, but by the time this conversation was through, Rose feared that she would be the one left abandoned.


	77. Saying Goodbye

It had taken Rose much longer than she originally anticipated to get out of the Great Hall. In her deep melancholy, she had forgotten that her entire house knew about her meltdown on the grounds, and therefore, seeing that she was finally showing her face again after several hours, they would all be grappling to aid her in some way. Lavender and Parvati were beside themselves in their attempts to pull her down into a crushing double embrace, and there were actually a few threats of violence from the Seventh year boys. It seemed that the girls had convinced them that it had been a guy who had caused Rose such agony, and Seamus and Dean wanted to know who it was so they could lay into him like an angry hippogriff on steroids. Not even Hermione, Harry, and Ron could stifle them, especially since they refused to tell anyone exactly what happened that led them there. But by some mercy, they did let her go. She appreciated the help, but what she wanted was solitude and rest. So with that short explanation, she gathered together a hearty plateful of food, enough that both she and Severus could eat a little. She then cast a heating charm on the plate, another to balance the contents perfectly in her hand, and with barely a good-night to her friends, she turned and walked down the long hall, disappearing through the huge doors.

She tried to ignore how Remus watched her from his place at the front of the hall.

As she slowly made her way down the steps, Rose could barely stop herself from shaking. She tried to blame it on her body; hours of endless crying and a drop in body temperature would naturally lead to this brand of uncomfortable weakness. But even Rose couldn’t find that to be all that believable, especially since her trembling got worse as she got closer to Severus’s quarters. She told herself that she had nothing to worry about. She even tried telling herself while imagining Remus and her friends saying it. But sweet Merlin, she knew Severus! She knew how quickly he could get angry. Hell, she saw it just that afternoon. Rose didn’t know what she had coming to her, but sometime that night, she would be punished. And frankly, she deserved it this time.

When she let herself inside Severus’s rooms, Rose was not terribly surprised to find them cold and dark. Even less surprising was the fact that the pregnant wizard was nowhere to be seen. But by this time, instinct was the driving force, and Rose turned towards the bedroom, where the door was hanging ajar, likely just how Remus had left it earlier that day. The nervous witch couldn’t help herself as she swallowed hard, pushing the door open further with her shoulder.

Severus was nothing more than a crumpled heap of man and sheets on the bed. There was plenty of evidence to suggest that he had been there for hours, everything from the crumpled duvet shoved up around his bloated body to the sweated mass his hair had become. He had obviously forgone vanity entirely because he lay there in nothing but his boxers and a stretched, oversized tee-shirt. And Rose felt her heart sink when she saw the unnatural pastiness in his complexion, as well as the weak hand that draped over his heavy belly. Once again, he was the picture of misery’s aftermath that she hated to see.

Noticing that he was lying on his side with his back turned to her, Rose let her muscles relax, and she gently set the plate of food down on the table by the door. She then quietly fluttered across the floor to the bed, where she set herself down with barely a breath or whisper. She nestled close to her pregnant lover; her body molded into his and she nuzzled into his neck. Feeling her warmth, Severus turned his head in an attempt to meet Rose’s eyes and smiled blearily.

“Rose…”

“Hi love.” Rose nuzzled deeper into Severus’s neck as he turned over, her hands falling instantly to his rounded middle. She peppered the skin of his chin and cheek with feather-light kisses while simultaneously rubbing his stomach the way he liked so much. “I missed you.”

Severus let the tips of his fingers slowly stroke down Rose’s soft face, and he stared longingly at her with a weary gaze. “You don’t have to pretend that you’re happy to see me,” he said to her. “I know you’re not in a good mood, Rosie.”

“I’m not pretending,” replied Rose. “Oh, call me Rosie again, please.”

“Rose,” Severus persisted, but Rose quickly shook her head at him, saying, “I’m better now, Sev, I promise.” The Potions master brushed a stray lock of red hair out of his lover’s face, and he blinked slowly and solemnly.

“Your eyes are still red,” he said, and Rose frowned.

“Yours are too.”

That was when Severus finally hooked his arm around Rose’s shoulders and pulled her in closer to his body. Rose drew her arms back toward her torso to settle into a sort of half-fetal position against Severus’s chest, resigning herself to be held like a child. Severus brought their foreheads together and Rose sighed with the comfort as her eyes drifted closed.

“What happened, Rosie?” Severus asked quietly, yet with too much weight for Rose to ignore, and it made her throat clench. “What did I do?”

Rose bit down on her lower lip as Remus’s angry voice echoed around in her head. He really had been telling her the truth before, and oh Merlin, Rose didn’t need to feel any worse at the moment. “Nothing…” she whimpered, desperate to hold back the tears again. “You did nothing wrong, Severus, and don’t you dare even think it.”

“Then what was it that upset you?” Severus raised a hand to Rose’s face to caress her cheek. “I beg you, tell me before I go mad.”

“I just had a bad day.”

“I’ve seen you have bad days. I know how you react to them. They were nothing like what I saw today.”

“It’s not often that you are faced with days like today,” said Rose. Her eyes were now beginning to gloss over as she looked into her lover’s mournful eyes, feeling his unborn baby’s movements against her own flat abdomen. “Severus, the pain that I feel is shared by our entire world, by you. I mean…just think of where we were a year ago, what was happening to us at this very hour. We could have lost you – we almost did! You might not have been here right now. Tell me, how can I love you so much and still take that lightly?”

“You say that now, but on this night a year ago, I was not your concern,” said Severus. He fell silent as he slunk back into his mind, trying to find the hidden meaning in Rose’s words. But to Rose’s despair, it was not very long before the wizard’s face fell again. “You were thinking about Dante Macleod, weren’t you?”

Rose nodded. “He’s never far from my thoughts, Severus. You know that.”

“I do,” said Severus. “I know you have been mourning him every day leading up to this night. Even if you don’t talk about it, I still see it in you. And I would be a fool if I said I didn’t know what that was like. I’ve been worried about you, Rose. I knew that for you, nothing good would come from this anniversary.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” asked Rose.

“I said nothing because I was afraid that I would bring about what apparently happened this afternoon. What I could never have predicted however was how you would turn away from me.”

“Severus, I’m so sorry,” Rose pleaded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“I know, but you could have given me that comfort sooner.” Severus paused when Rose suddenly jerked out of his arms, coming up to pull her knees close to her torso. Severus swallowed hard, and he forced himself up to sit against the headboard. He had to take a brief moment to catch his breath; the weight of his stomach made even the simplest of tasks exhausting. But then he started speaking again. “Why? Why didn’t you come to me sooner, Rose? Why did you leave me to imagine the worst while you were off in your own world?”

“I couldn’t talk to you yet, Severus,” said Rose, her voice clenching in her throat. “It wasn’t just you. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about this.”

“About what?” asked Severus.

“About Dante, and about what happened that made me freak out by the lake.”

Severus’s brow furrowed deeply. He wasn’t sure where Rose was going with this, but already he knew that it wasn’t good. The nausea from before started to settle back into his stomach as his anxiety flared again. “What are you playing at, Rose. What does Macleod have to do with that?”

“Everything,” muttered Rose. “Everything that happened today was because of him. Him, him, _him!_ He’s the one making me so miserable.”

“Then stop torturing yourself and talk to me, Rose.”

Rose looked over her shoulder at him, but she turned back before she could really meet his eye. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“No, I won’t,” Severus reassured, reaching out his hand to touch Rose’s arm, but instead he rested it on his bump. “I’ll understand, Rose, no matter what it is you have to say. Just tell me the truth. I can’t stand to see you this way.”

Those words resonated in Rose like a stone dropping in a massive cave. She knew that Severus hated seeing her in pain of any kind, but the level that he had sunk to that day was just unhealthy. Even if Severus wasn’t pregnant, she would be appalled at the idea of the man making himself sick over her. God, he was throwing his guts up, and she just let it happen! And it was all that Rose could think about now as she pondered how she would explain herself. Would Severus dump her over this? Because she would much rather have that than him risking his health and that of his unborn baby.

After a long moment, Rose took in a deep breath through her nose, and she gripped her legs as she rested her chin on her knees. “This morning, Draco found a letter hidden in the Slytherin common room, and it was addressed to me. When I finally got it at lunchtime, we discovered that it had been written by Dante…and then Harry read it to me.”

“It was his last words to you, wasn’t it?” said Severus.

“Yes,” Rose nodded. “I don’t know when he wrote it, but it was sometime before the battle. We don’t even know why it was hidden. We can only assume that it was in case things went badly.”

“And what did the letter say?”

Rose cringed suddenly. “Please don’t be angry,” she whimpered. Once again, Severus reassured her of his empathy, and only because she started to sense his frustration, she swallowed hard as the sting returned to her eyes. “He said he loved me. He was in love with me since we were fourteen. He called me the love of his life, and he said that he wanted to spend eternity with me. In one fucking letter, he told me everything that I’ve wanted to hear for nearly five years.”

Severus listened, and slowly the frustration melted away. But the feeling in his gut was no better. He wanted to be sick again, he really did! After all, this was something he had been dreading ever since he learned of Rose’s true history with Dante Macleod. But this was not about him. No, this struggle was Rose’s alone, and when he noticed the shaking in her shoulders, he swallowed his emotions, no matter how much it made him want to gag.

“Is that all?” he said blankly. Rose turned her head to glare at him, looking only slightly more offended than grief-stricken.

“Is that all you can say?” she asked. “He loved me, Severus! He loved me as I loved him! Aren’t you pissed about that?”

“I don’t really see why I should be,” replied Severus, again very vacantly so that one of them could keep a level head. “The boy has been dead for a year now. He is of no real threat to me; at least I hope he isn’t.” The tired wizard barely flinched as he caught Rose by the wrist, her clenched fist trembling in front of his face. But he applied no pressure; his touch froze the witch like ice, thus ridding him of the need.

“How dare you, Severus?” Rose muttered through her teeth. “I wouldn’t be here if my love for you did not outweigh that for Dante. Why would you say something like that, you git?”

“Stop this, Rose” said Severus. “I know you are here because you love me, but no one but Macleod could render you so useless. If you ask me, I’d say you were expecting me to be angry with you only because of how you reacted to Lily Evans-Potter. This situation is not entirely dissimilar, so you had no reason to expect different from me.”

“Remus told me about what happened earlier,” Rose explained in a tense voice. “You can’t go getting that upset when you’re so close to having the baby. I thought that if I didn’t make you get sick again, then I would flat out trigger labour.”

“But neither of those have happened, have they?” asked Severus. He stared into Rose’s tear-stained eyes for a long moment, and then like soft silk, her wrist slipped out of his fingers. “Please Rose, this isn’t about me, and it never was. Don’t turn this into a row when it doesn’t need to be.”

“What if I don’t know what else to do?” asked Rose. Her voice broke mid-breath, and Severus instantly saw that she had reached her limit. Crumbling like a statue, Rose’s knees fell to the mattress, and white-knuckled hands went up to cover her face. And then she started to cry; the horrendous, mournful sound was unlike anything he had heard, especially from someone he knew so intimately. Severus’s only response was to lean forward, reach around Rose’s thin, shaking shoulders, and pull her into his chest. Rose fell into his grasp like a tipping rock, and she leaned heavily against Severus’s chest. The Potions master held her as close as his stomach would allow, ignoring the bruising grip she had on his forearm.

“I know,” he muttered quietly as Rose continued to wail. “You loved him, Rose, and you love him still. I cannot take that away from you, and I cannot rob you of your grief.”

“Severus please, just kill me,” moaned Rose. “I can’t take this, I just can’t!”

“You’re forgetting that I was in your place not long ago,” reminded Severus. “You will get through this, Rose, I promise you.”

“That still doesn’t change anything, Severus. I’m so sick of people telling me how it’s all going to be fine when it’s not, and it never will. I’m so fucking tired of hearing people say how sorry they are, that I have to look on the fucking bright side, like they know what’s right for me! They’re not me! They have no clue what this is to me!”

“I know, love,” Severus crooned into Rose’s ear, rocking her gently. “You think you are alone in this pain. No one understands how much you loved Macleod, not even me. You had a life planned out with him and you couldn’t see a world without him. There is no broken heart like one that has been robbed by death. I lived with that for almost two decades, Rose. I know how it feels to be so empty, so lost. I cannot claim to know what you are going through, but I do know something similar. But there is still one thing that I don’t understand.”

“What?” asked Rose, almost choking on a sob.

“I sense so much anger in you,” said Severus. “You said that to have Macleod love you was all you ever wanted, and though it is tragically late, that is what you got. Yes, I can expect sadness, but nothing like this. Why are you so angry, Rose? Why are you allowing yourself to fall apart like this and not accepting help from anyone?”

“Because it’s my fault, alright?!”

The silence that suddenly filled the room was crushing, like the couple was being buried alive in a grim dungeon grave. Severus held onto Rose with no less strength, but he was at a complete loss for words. He knew exactly was Rose was going through, and therefore, he could guess with a fair amount of confidence as to what she would say. But unlike him, whose one mistake had cost countless people their lives, Rose could not claim such a responsibility.

“We have been through this before, Rose,” said Severus. “Macleod’s passing was not your fault. It was a tragic outcome of a war you had no bearing on. Some might even call it an accident. Either way, you had nothing to do with it.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Severus,” Rose shook her head, and Severus could only respond with, “Then what are you talking about?”

Rose had to pause until her breathing evened out into gentle pants, and she forced herself to swallow any tears remaining. “It all could have been so different, Sev. I had so many chances to tell Dante how much I loved him, but I let them all go. If I hadn’t been such a coward, Dante would never have had to write that letter at all. I could have saved us both so much grief by making that first move towards the relationship we both really wanted.”

“I hate to say this Rose, but toward the end, you and Macleod were very much a couple. I have seen many bad cases of teenaged romance in my day, and what you two had put many of your peers to great shame. The tragedy of it was that neither of you seemed to notice it for yourselves.”

“See, even you agree,” Rose ground out. “None of this might have happened if I had just opened my bloody eyes…ah shit! It was so obvious! It was all so fucking obvious! Why didn’t I notice?!”

“Hush Rose,” crooned Severus, stroking matted red hair. “You were in love with your best friend, and you were afraid. It is not something to be ashamed of. And you are no more fault in that than Macleod was. He chose to wait until the very last moment to confess his feelings for you, leaving you to find out in the worst way possible, months after his death.”

“He was just as afraid as I was,” said Rose. “And you know how you Slytherins are; your own safety comes first, physical, mental, or emotional. But you don’t get it, Severus. I had the perfect chance to tell Dante how I felt. I could have told him the morning after you and Dumbledore faked his death, and if you had been there to see it, you would have agreed. We knew bad things were coming, but Dante only wanted me to focus on the hope that was still there. He wanted me to know that I wasn’t alone, and that I never would be. Right there, I had my chance. I could have done away with all the yearning and the self-torture, and for once in my life, I could have been completely happy. A war was raging around me, but I wouldn’t have cared because I would have had my love.”

“Your fantasy would have become real,” Severus suggested, and Rose sighed.

“It was more than a fantasy,” she said. “Everything rested on Dante, and there was no option for me. It was him, or it was no one. After what I had to deal with in my life, I owed myself that. Please Severus, would you not have wanted that for me?”

Severus shut his eyes as he forced down the terrible nausea brought on by his own love for Rose. There was no way that he would deny her the answer that she obviously wanted to hear, not at a time like this. But through these painful circles of mourning and regret that Rose had taken him on, Severus couldn’t help but notice how one grim fact was always left out, one possibility that Rose was ignoring to preserve the last of her sanity.

“But what if the outcome had been the same?” he asked. Rose suddenly stilled in his arms. Slowly, she shifted around to face the pregnant Potions master, but she didn’t dare touch him, not even a finger against his leg.

“What?” she asked back, in barely a whisper. Oh denial, Severus thought to himself. Denial was in every breath she took.

“What if Dante had died anyway?” Severus watched as Rose’s eyes widened, and her jaw clenched, and her head shake. But Severus was persistent; he had to be. “You would have changed the outcome of your relationship, but there would have been no way for you to prevent his death. You know that, Rose.”

“No…” croaked Rose, still shaking her head weakly. Severus brought his hands up to caress her cheeks.

“Lovers or not, the two of you still would have gone into battle. You still would have faced off with the Dark Lord’s army. And though it grieves me to say it, the same thing would have happened. The curse that killed Dante Macleod was meant for you, Rose, and he took it to save you. In the end, he died because he loved you.”

“But it isn’t fair,” Rose whimpered. She was on the verge of weeping like a child again, and Severus brought her face close to press a kiss to her forehead.

“It never is fair, love,” he told her. “But perhaps all these things happen for a reason, even if it seems the worst to us. You would have had the happiness you desired, yes, but it would have been very short-lived. And from the grief that you have shown in the time I have known you, I shudder to think that it might have been your undoing.”

Rose caught her breath again, and she rubbed at her eye as she mumbled, “Then what would have happened to you?”

“Exactly,” said Severus. “Life is a complex thing, Rose, and one life can affect many. I don’t know what I would have done if I had never met you, if you never came into my world the way you did. All I could say is that no matter what it was, it would have been bleak. And think about the baby, Rose.” Severus took Rose’s cold, clammy hand, and he placed it on his belly. He noticed how her eyes closed when the little one inside him kicked her palm. “I know I have told you that if it hadn’t been for you, I might not have had the confidence to raise this child. And that’s not including the fact that he or she would have missed out on having a wonderful mother.”

To Rose, nothing could have shifted her train of thought more swiftly than that one statement. Mother…she was the baby’s mother. It might not have been her blood, but Severus’s choices far surpassed the reality. And suddenly, it hit. The ruined world of the year before gave way to the life she lived now, to the very place she sat. She was madly in love with Severus Snape, more so than she had ever imagined possible. They were engulfed in a whirlwind romance that Rose would never change, and she eagerly awaited a child with him. It might have been blunt to say, but Rose now truly realized how far away she was from the path she had once been on.

It was a far cry from the night she sat paralyzed in the ruined Hogwarts corridors, her robes covered in spatters of blood and dust.

I really do feel sorry for you, Rose,” said Severus, regaining Rose’s attention. “I wish that you and Macleod could have had everything you wanted. But you need to accept that he’s gone, and with him the lost opportunities. You have become so focused on the past and what might have been that you have blinded yourself from the world you live in now. It’s a tough question to ask, Rose, but you need to hear it. Was it all worth it, this pain you feel? Was some unknown past worth all this misery? Are you not happier now than you might have been back then?”

Rose didn’t answer; in all honesty, she didn’t have enough in her to even try. Instead, she slunk out of Severus’s grasp, and she leaned down to the mattress, resting her head on the soft pillow. Severus shifted back into a comfortable position, a hand pressed to the underside of his belly for support. But when he settled back against his own cushions, he did all that he wanted to do, and that was to smooth his hand over Rose’s hair, gently stroking her face to coax her into the sleep that she so desperately needed.

“Just look around you,” he whispered, his words her lullaby. “See what you have become. Remember what you have lost, but also what you have gained. You have everything to live for, everything…”

**~HP~**

_In amongst the white clouds, he was reaching out to her; his blue eyes a reflection of the sky, and his smile brighter than the sun. Through the falling white flower petals, she glided up to meet him, his warmth drawing ever nearer, radiating from his open arms. She felt his pull on her, so warm, so comforting, so right! His ring on her finger, his hand on hers, her name on his lips._

_“Rose…”_

**~HP~**

Rose suddenly burst from sleep with a great, cold gasp. For once, she did not wake up in tremors, nor paralyzed beyond the point of pain, as her dreams of Dante often ended. This time, she awoke merely to a great emptiness, and it kept her down on Severus’s bed. Rose could feel the slight chill of sweat on her forehead and around her neck, and her skin prickled at the familiar sensation.

She only had to turn her head slightly to see that Severus had fallen asleep a long time ago, his arm still resting beside her head. Though he was still propped up awkwardly on pillows, he looked more peaceful than Rose had seen in recent weeks, his face free of lines of worry, and gently fingers caressing the mound of his unborn child. Even if she had wanted to, Rose couldn’t disturb him now, not when he so needed a good, deep, slumber. With barely a rustle from the sheets, she eased up to sit on the edge of the bed. Severus let out a muffled grunt in his sleep, like he sensed her movement, and Rose turned to look upon his moon-shadowed face. She reached out to rest her hand on his cheek, stroking her fingers down to his chin as she rose to her feet.

Alone in the bathroom, Rose splashed frigid water up into her face to wash away the last of her nightmares. It was almost hard to believe that a dream so pleasant could be considered a nightmare, but that was what they now were. Squinting against the dim light, the exhausted young witch had to look herself in the mirror and cringe at her worn, shattered appearance.

Rose was tired of waking up like this. She was tired of dreading the sight of Dante’s beautiful face in her dreams, and she was tired of what she was left with in the mornings. Dante’s last wish was for her to be happy, but how could she do that when he still haunted her from the grave? Did he even know that he did that to her? Even if he wasn’t entirely aware of her feelings for him, Rose could not simply believe that Dante thought it easy to move on from love. Did he not think of where he would be if he lost her, how he would feel?

But would it really be any different if it had all gone the way she planned? Would Dante’s requited love have made his death easier to cope with, or would it have made it all the more worse? Rose didn’t want to believe Severus’s fear that such a tragedy would have been the end of her, but every which way she looked, no scenario would have boded well.

Rose pushed the bathroom door open to return to bed, but something suddenly caught her attention. It was the baby’s crib on the other side of the room, the mahogany glowing in the light seeping in from behind. Strange, she thought to herself. How many nights she had spent in this bedroom, and she had yet to truly appreciate the beauty of her lover’s child’s first bed. She walked over to it, without even thinking, and she rubbed her fingers across the smooth wooden surface. It was already warm to the touch, and Rose felt a smile tug at her heart. She could almost see the form of a tiny body wrapped in those clean linins and warm blankets.

She saw the little stuffed green dragon sitting in the corner of the crib, waiting to be hugged by little arms. Oh Merlin, Rose could see that too. She could see a tiny raven-haired child cuddling with its favorite toy, snuggled under Remus’s green blanket, and wearing Dumbledore’s knitted booties. In a matter of days, Severus would be raising a baby in this room, and Rose was only lucky enough to be there to see it.

_‘This is my world…’_ she mused. In that moment, it felt like the world outside that door did not exist, that Rose was perhaps in her own little corner of paradise, where no pain or despair could touch her. _‘This is my life.’_

There was another soft moan from the bed, and Rose watched as Severus resettled into the pillows before slipping back into deep slumber. A breathy sigh escaped her lips; it was amazing how a man could work such magic every time she laid eyes on him, even when hugely swollen with child. And right now, she just wanted to be near him.

Back down onto the bed she went, careful not to jostle the pregnant wizard’s rest. Hovering low, she laid a feather-light hand on the curve of Severus’s belly, tracing the slow, fluid movements of the child inside. Her face came down lower, and she rested her ear against the soft, warm surface. Rose listened to the baby’s fast, fluttering heart, melting her soul with every little beat. Nature’s most beautiful thing, the smallest, but greatest of all miracles, and it was right there beneath her hand. Severus, her Severus, was having a baby. Rose could not have loved this moment more if this was her own blood child. But then, what was blood compared to born love?

Rose smiled despite the heaviness in her eyes.

She was happy, happier than she had ever hoped to be. Rose had been blessed with a life she had not known she wanted, but now could not bear to live without. She was just sad that Dante wasn’t there to see it. He wasn’t there to have her back through the wilds of the world. He wasn’t there to love her unconditionally, even through another man’s embrace. And he wasn’t there to share the joy that he had always wished for her through their innocent childhood dreams.

He wasn’t there to be her best friend.

**~HP~**

Severus decided not to wake Rose when he got up in the morning. The warm glow flooding in the tiny window showed that it was only just past dawn, and the weary wizard did not want to make this day any longer for her. Even if he was due to drop child any day and minute, no one needed more sleep in all of Hogwarts than his dear, sweet Gryffindor. Last night had been hell for the poor girl, but Severus knew the worst was yet to come later that evening, when they all gathered on the shores of the lake to bid a belated, but fond and honorary farewell to their dead.

Rose was a tough girl, but it would take a great deal more than courage to get her through the funeral that she never attended.

He was reading a light book and debating about whether he ought to get up and fix some tea when there was suddenly a gentle knock on his chamber door. It was still early enough to feign sleep, and Severus was in no mood to take on any drama before he had the proper bearing. So he said nothing, and he did not move from his side of the bed. The knock came again, though this time slightly harder, and this time it was accompanied by a muffled voice from out in the halls.

“Severus – _(knock, knock, knock)_ – Severus, you alright in there?”

Severus sighed to hear Remus’s voice, though whether it was out of boredom or relief, he couldn’t quite tell. The only time Remus came calling at sunup was when he was in desperate need of healing draughts after a particularly nasty transformation. But Severus didn’t need to look at a lunar calendar to know that wasn’t the case this time. In spite of his lasting tiredness, Severus very carefully shifted away from Rose’s sleeping form, and he planted a hand on his lower back as he got to his feet and shuffled out into the sitting room. He sat down on the sofa, caressing his rounded bump, and he breathed out, “Come in.”

The door opened almost on cue, and Remus stuck his head in. “Oh Severus,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. Though last night’s moon had not been full, the werewolf still looked a little worse for wear with his disheveled tresses and sagging amber eyes. There was also a certain limp in his step that stemmed from his hips and spine, a sure sign he had been on his feet for a while already. “Good to see you up and about.”

“Remus, what are you doing here?” asked Severus, slumping back into the sofa cushions.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” the other wizard answered, and Severus gestured toward the chair beside him. Remus accepted the invitation without even thinking. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and I would not have felt better until I saw how you were faring. How long have you been awake? Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“Calm down, Remus, I’m fine.” Severus added emphasis to his statement by gently touching his stomach, but Remus didn’t look very convinced. He arched one graying eyebrow as he looked up and down his pregnant friend.

“You’re nine months pregnant, Severus. You’re never fine.”

“I feel no worse than I did yesterday,” Severus retorted. “A few hours of uninterrupted sleep was all I needed really. I had other things to worry about than which twinge in my back might be the first sign of imminent labour.”

Remus couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It was nice to finally get a glimpse of humor back in their lives, even if it was just Severus’s watched-kettle-never-boils thoughts on childbirth. It was a bit funny; for days, people had treated Severus as though that day would be the most depressing of his life, and yet there in his quarters, his outlook was actually a lot brighter than most. Although, he might have found more comfort in that if only he hadn’t known Severus so well. The only thing that would cause Severus Snape to look on any bright side was knowing that there were others that were worse off than him. And the trouble was that bright side struck a little too close to home this time.

“So, did Rose ever come to see you last night?” asked Remus. He was careful to watch Severus’s face, searching for reaction without his friend picking up on it. Severus responded with a short, slow nod, raising black eyebrows over half-lidded eyes.

“She did,” he said. “And she never left. She’s still asleep.”

“How is she doing?” Again, Remus was careful with what he asked, fearing that it would not be good news. Rose was still in the dungeons, which meant she had spent the night with Severus. But that was all he knew for certain. Remembering the level of distress he had seen from her the previous day, Remus half expected for Severus to tell him that the Gryffindor had lapsed into a coma on his bed.

“You saw her yesterday, Remus,” Severus replied. “You saw what she did to herself with her own emotions. Top that off with what happened here last night, and she’s completely spent.”

“Ah, so I take it that she told you what was really going on?”

Severus sighed. “She was obstinate, as usual, but yes, she did eventually tell me about what she read in Dante Macleod’s letter.”

“I hope you weren’t too upset by that,” Remus said with an odd shrug. But to his unexpected surprise, Severus turned his head in his direction and furrowed his dark brow, saying, “Remus, do you really think I could chastise her for her love of another after she saw me through Godric’s Hollow? Do you think me that cruel?”

“Well, I really hate to take Rose’s side a bit, but you haven’t exactly been the picture of emotional stability recently. Just the other day, you got teary when Longbottom broke another one of your beakers. And it wouldn’t be the first time you let your temper get away from you. Rose was just afraid that your pregnancy hormones would make you overreact.”

“I like to think that I have enough self-control to think straight when my girlfriend is in trouble,” said Severus. “But really Remus, there is far more to this than any of you could guess. Rose was reluctant to talk about Macleod even back before she ever knew I was pregnant. She never truly wanted to face his death for what it was, that it was an event on which she had no bearing. All she could see were the choices she made that she deemed to have led her here. If you asked her, she would tell you that she only sees her faults.”

Remus leaned back into his chair, and he thought back to the conversation in his classroom. He thought of what was left unsaid, and how it made sense to hear Severus answer those open questions. “She blames herself for what happened to Macleod?” he asked.

“She blames herself for his death and everything that happened between them,” Severus replied. “Macleod died because he took the curse that should have killed Rose. But the guilt that brings is minor compared to the way she found out about their mutual affection. You see, Remus, Rose knows she could have told Macleod herself, and now she can never stop wondering about what might have been if she had. It’s likely that she will wonder for the rest of her life.”

“They do say that first loves are always the ones we never get over,” Remus mused, half to himself. “Oh Severus, she didn’t say what I think she did, did she?”

“You mean that she would rather be with Dante Macleod than with me?” said Severus. “Remus, I think there will always be a part of her that wishes it could have been that way. But she knows that fate cannot be changed, and deep down, she knows that, perhaps, it was always meant to be this way.”

“Do you think there really could have been anything between them?” asked Remus. “If Macleod had lived, I mean.”

Severus sighed, and he let his sleepy eyes drift to the bedroom door. His expression fell, but there was no sadness, none that Remus could see at least. “I think the two of them would have had a happy life together,” he mumbled. “I knew Dante Macleod, and I do not doubt his affection for my Rose. He would have given her everything she wanted, and he would have protected her from all harm. But now that duty falls to me, and I strive to do my best to finish what Macleod started…and Rose knows that too.”

“So…everything is alright? I mean, between the two of you?”

“Yes,” answered Severus. “Now, if you would be of some help to me, go and tell Albus and Minerva that I do not wish to be disturbed until this afternoon. I want to keep an eye on Rose for a while, just to make sure she’ll be alright for tonight.”

“She’ll have to show herself eventually,” reminded Remus. “Her classmates still have to see that she’s okay, and that she hasn’t been committed.”

“In good time, Remus.” Severus looked down upon his swollen middle, tracing the movements of the baby shifting inside him. If it were up to him, he would give Rose a lifetime to prepare for that evening’s service. It was just a shame that there came a time for everything, whether we like it or not.

After a minute or two of respectful silence, Severus cleared his throat to get Remus’s attention, and he reached out his hand to his werewolf friend. By then, Remus knew that Severus needed help getting out of chairs. He just wasn’t going to ask for it. So being a good friend, he gripped Severus firmly by the wrist and pulled the pregnant man to his feet. Severus then tottered over to the breakfast nook to start a pot of tea for himself and Rose, and Remus again stretched out his aching back. He then turned to leave.

“Oh Severus,” he said, suddenly pausing by the door. Severus turned his head with a calm expression, unintentionally giving Remus a subtle chill. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…how are…how are you feeling? I mean, about today.”

Severus pursed his lips slightly, almost missing the real meaning behind the inquiry. But when he brought his hand up to rub a sore muscle in his shoulder, and his fingertips brushed over the ugly scars on his throat, an old, familiar shudder set in. He suddenly remembered what that day actually was; in his concern for Rose, he had banished the memories of this morning last year, bleeding out in that cold, ramshackle hut. But how was he supposed to feel about that? That a few brief seconds could have erased everything he had now? That Rose would be alone, and the child he carried never would exist? Strangely enough, his answer was not difficult to find.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I’m just fine.”

**~HP~**

The day passed uneventfully, a relief to many, but only just. All classes had been cancelled, in accordance to the Ministry’s declaration of a national day of remembrance, and no one really knew what to do with themselves in the meantime. They didn’t feel like they were supposed to be sad; not all of them had been touched by the battle’s losses. But at the same time, the pomp and circumstance of martyrdom had cast a cloud over everyone’s minds, convincing them that it would be in poor taste to treat it like an ordinary day. The truth be told, the faculty had been concerned that not many of the students would actually attend the memorial, but they all felt a warm touch on their hearts when they started noticing small groups leaving the comfort of their dormitories, and quietly walking their way out to the shores of the lake. When more followed, it started to seem that some had rather underestimated the youth of the Wizarding world. Their emotions were raw, and their patience was short, but they had tremendous understanding. It seemed that it was a good thing to mark the anniversary after all.

Harry and Hermione watched the growing audience from behind cross-paned windows. Actually, Hermione was watching from behind cross-paned windows, and Harry occasionally glanced out from the corner of his eye as he passed by in his slow pacing. Together, the Head Boy and Girl had been asked to speak at the ceremony on behalf of their classmates, and now the two of them waited with the Heads of House and the headmaster in the Great Hall’s antechamber.

“You told Ron to bring Rose back here, right?” asked Harry, stringing his arms around his back. He was trying his best not to think about the speech he would be giving in an hour or so, and he could feel the parchment through his shirt.

“Yes,” Hermione replied. “But I told you, it’ll take them a while to get back down here. Rose hasn’t come out of Gryffindor tower since lunchtime, and you know how slow Ron walks at times.”

“Potter, will you stop your pacing before you wear a track in the floor?” Professor Sprout suddenly barked from across the room. “Mister Weasley and Miss Beckett will be there, don’t you worry.”

“Quite right,” said Flitwick, who was sitting beside Minerva and Albus at the nearby table. “Look sharp, you two. As soon as Professor Snape arrives, we need to begin making our way out to the lake.”

As if he had been waiting for the mention of his name, the door creaked open in announcement of Severus’s arrival. With Remus dutifully at his side, the Potions master walked slower than anyone in that room could remember. Even though his bulging midsection was magically concealed, they could still plainly see the tremendous strain of carrying his child, and no simple feather-weight charm could help him now. Hermione immediately abandoned her seat by the window, and she offered it to her professor with a small, forced smile.

“Evening Severus,” Minerva crooned with a sigh as she rose from her own chair to offer a helping hand. Severus nodded to her as he allowed her to grasp his arm and ease him down.

“How are you feeling, Professor?” asked Hermione.

“Well enough, Granger, well enough,” said Severus. “Better than Potter at least, by the looks of it.” Harry stopped pacing for a bare second to roll his eyes before resuming his fourteenth trek across the room and back. He once again tried to ignore the muffled chuckles made at his expense.

“I hope we didn’t rush you, my dear boy,” said Albus. “If you had wanted to take your time, I would have waited for you regardless.”

“I have never been late in my tenure, and I am no more inclined to be simply because I’m with child.” Just for a little guilty emphasis however, the pregnant wizard reached around to massage his lower back, and the moment he saw this, Dumbledore made a move for the door, gesturing to two of his colleagues.

“Pomona, Filius, why don’t you two get a head start so you can keep an eye on the students, perhaps begin making the preparations. I think Severus could use a little time off his feet.”

“You might as well come along with us, kids,” said Filius, speaking of course to Harry and Hermione. “I’m sure that Weasley and Beckett will know to look for you out on the grounds.”

“No,” Hermione instantly objected. “We told them to come here, and I’m not leaving without them.”

“Suit yourself, Miss Granger,” said Minerva. The elderly witch stepped forward, showing her intent to take her own leave. “But if they are not here in the next thirty minutes, then they will have to walk down to the lake on their own. Their presence, after all, is not required, and is expendable.”

“But they need to be there,” said Harry, and before he could elaborate on their respective losses, something he had been explicitly told not to do numerous times, Dumbledore took a step forward and waved a gentle hand at his prodigal student to silence him.

“It’s alright, Minerva, you go on ahead,” he said with a small smile. “I will see to it that everyone is there before the sun sets. As headmaster, you know, they cannot begin the ceremony without me, can they?”

That of course was a very reasonable argument, and it was one that had come out on top in many faculty squabbles. After working so closely with him for so long, Minerva trusted that Albus would be good on his word, and that he would keep everything under control. Besides, Severus would be standing for a while out there. He needed to rest up beforehand to best ensure his health and comfort, and that of the baby. With an affirmative nod, she turned and led Pomona and Filius out into the halls, leaving the room with a hushed farewell.

“You didn’t need to do that, headmaster,” said Severus, shifting in his seat and trying not to grimace. The baby was presently right on top of his pelvis and lower spine, and the pressure was unimaginable.

“Nonsense Severus,” urged Albus. “I am merely helping my students to keep their promise to their friends.”

“No offense, Albus, but I think that this is not something those two will want to be on time for,” said Remus. “Ron and Rose suffered losses, and no one ever wants to confront loss again.”

“I’m aware of that, Remus, but I have confidence that they will manage well. You after all have been counseling them for days, and I’m sure that Severus has had a good talk with Miss Beckett.” Dumbledore looked to the Potions master, who responded with a terse nod. “The worst is over, my boys. Tonight is merely a formality, and I’m sure that everyone here knows that as well.”

All of a sudden, the old wooden door groaned open, and a flustered-looking Ron slunk inside, clinging to the wall like moss. Sucking in deep breaths, he opened his arms to grab hold of Hermione, who had jumped across the room the moment she saw ginger hair. He of course topped off their embrace with a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank heavens, Ron, you made it,” breathed the Head Girl. “You were cutting it really close there, you know. One more minute, and we would have –,” Hermione might have continued if she had not opened her eyes a little wider and noticed one very important little fact that had all the men around her holding their breaths. The anvil dropped with a simple mutter from Harry.

“Where’s Rose?”

“Alright,” Ron began with raised hands. Clearly, he had been thinking very hard over how this conversation would play out, and he had come armed to the nine for this dilemma. “Before you get mad, Hermione, Rose wasn’t in the common room. I asked around, hardly anyone has seen her. The best I got was from Parvati; she said she saw Rose leave an hour ago. I’ve asked everyone I came across on my way down. No one has a clue where she is, not even Professor Wicker.”

“Damn it!” Hermione growled, thrusting herself out of Ron’s arms and crossing her own across her chest. Even if she had just blatantly sworn right in front of the headmaster, she didn’t so much as finch at the realization. “I knew I should have stayed with her. Give her a little bit of slack, and she runs off!”

“Whoa Hermione,” said Remus, holding up his hands. “Calm down, just a bit. You’re speaking as though Rose was your prisoner.”

“But she promised she would come. Didn’t she, Harry?”

“Well, I don’t know if she specifically _said_ that –,”

“What are you talking about, mate?” said Ron. “Rose said at lunch that she would be coming tonight.”

“But she’s had enough time to change her mind,” Harry reminded them all. In the background, Severus groaned behind his hands in frustration, and Remus, trying to ward off some impending mood swing, took hold of the expectant wizard’s shoulders and massaged his thumbs into tense muscles.

“No, no guys,” said Ron, injecting himself back into the conversation with a fair amount of certainty. “I don’t think she’s running away from this. Parvati asked her where she was going before, and Rose said that she just needed to get away from everybody for a little bit. If you have to ask me, I think Rose has every intention of following through with her plans. She just needs to be coaxed out of that hole again.”

“For once, Weasley is right,” Severus said in a low voice, and Hogwarts’ most famous trio all turned to him with knowing stares. “This memorial is something akin to suicide in Rose’s mind, and she will not walk to it willingly.”

“Then what do you think we should do?” asked Harry.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hermione asked right back. “Someone has to go find Rose and bring her out to the memorial. I might be wrong, but I think I have an idea about where she might be. You guys go on without me, I’ll find her.”

“No…”

Hermione had her hand on the door handle when she paused so suddenly, turning to look over her shoulder with a frown. Severus was already gripping the arms of his chair and pushing himself to his feet, waving off Remus’s silent offers to help. Harry and Ron exchanged glances like they were silently debating if they ought to offer a hand, but when they got a look at the hard sneer on the Potions master’s face, they did the sensible thing and took a step backward.

“Professor Snape?” said Hermione, unsure not only of Severus’s intentions, but also how she would go about dealing with them.

“Let me talk to her,” demanded the pregnant wizard. “Tell me where she is, and I will bring her back, and I will do it alone.”

“No,” Ron suddenly spoke up. “No way, no way. Sir, you can’t just go traipsing around the castle when you’re about to drop kid. My mum always said that a surefire way to trigger labour is a long walk. Ginny wrote that she’s been telling Fleur that it worked for her at least five times. And besides, what makes you think that she wants to see you anymore than she wants to see us?”

Severus clenched his hand into a fist at his side, grinding his teeth visibly behind curled lips. Remus came up and touched his shoulder, and the pregnant Potions master held his stomach as he arched his head to the side, sucking in breath through his nose. “Weasley, get out before I say something I will regret, and Albus, please leave so you do not have to bear witness to my poor self-control.”

“Oh Severus, there is no need to worry about that,” said Dumbledore. “But I can see when a row is not mine to be made. Come Mister Weasley, it is clear that Professor Snape has no further need for us. Hagrid and I have arranged for a carriage to take us down to the lake. Perhaps you can help us to round up a suitable Thestral to pull it.” Harry was already pushing Ron back toward the door, and he nodded vigorously in agreement with the old headmaster. But what was not heard was the almost breathless whisper about how they really needed to get Dumbledore out of the room, and though he really didn’t like it, Ron had no choice but to agree. He was out of the room without waiting for a kiss from Hermione, the headmaster beginning some distracting small talk just behind him, mostly about Bill and Fleur’s impending parenthood.

“So,” Harry started once he was alone with his best friend and the two professors, turning boldly to Severus. “What does make you think that Rose would want to see you? She was afraid to be anywhere near you yesterday.”

“I doubt that even you failed to notice that she did not turn up in your common room last night,” Severus said mutely; now that the source of his aggravation was gone along with the quiet danger to his relationship, he had allowed himself to drop his guard. “But to answer your question, all I can say is that it is just a feeling. Rose needs me, and I won’t rest until I know that she will be alright.”

“But we’re her friends,” said Hermione. “Doesn’t she need us too?”

Severus was almost struck dumb at the young witch’s question. On one hand, he wanted to assert himself. He was Rose’s lover, which put him ahead of all others in her heart. But on the other, he could not deny their place in Rose’s life. Potter and Granger were the ones who were there when he couldn’t be, and perhaps for their understanding, he owed part of his relationship to them. He looked at Harry, and he saw the incomparable determination that set him apart from all his contemporaries, the protection that Rose always looked for. He looked at Hermione, and he saw the love of a sister, divided only by blood relation, the best friend who picked up where Dante Macleod had left off.

“I don’t mean to degrade you, Granger,” he said. “But you didn’t listen to her last night. You didn’t hear her wake three times before dawn, rushing to the bathroom to drown what was left of her emotions. The truth be told, I don’t think Rose wants to hear comfort from anyone of us right now. But someone has to bring back the girl we all know and love, and I think that I am the one to do it.”

“At least let me come with you,” Hermione pleaded. “You really should not be alone this far into your pregnancy. You can talk to Rose, but someone else should be there in case you run into some trouble and need help.”

“She is right, Severus,” said Remus. Severus looked back at his werewolf friend and noticed a certain kink in his brow. For Remus, it was his way of telling the Potions master that he would not interfere with his personal matters, but only with the comfort of Severus’s assured safety. But Severus did not need to be reminded this time. The baby moved in his belly, and after blowing out a soft breath, Severus moved toward the door, gesturing for Hermione to follow.

“Wait,” Harry suddenly spoke up. Severus stopped just short of the door and turned back to the Head Boy with a hint of befuddlement. Hermione meanwhile raised her brow and pursed her lips, like she had suddenly remembered something that should not have been forgotten at all. Needless to say, Severus was too tired to fight with these kids, and by now, he was forced to acknowledge that they did sometimes have worthy things to say. But his curiosity never ceased to be tweaked whenever Potter moved to address him directly.

“Yes Potter?” he said mutely. To his slight surprise, Harry did not speak right away. Instead, he reached into his trouser pocket, and he gripped something in his closed fist, holding it out to Severus with a steady hand.

“We found this in the envelope with Macleod’s last letter,” said Harry. “When you find Rose, would you give this to her? We can’t say for sure, but we think that Macleod wanted her to have it.”

Severus looked at Hermione, who nodded her agreement with a frown, and he opened his hand to receive the tiny parcel in Harry’s grasp. Without touching his professor’s skin, Harry opened his fingers just enough to lose grip on what he was holding, and it fell into Severus’s palm without a sound. Feeling the warmed metal, Severus turned his gaze down, and he swallowed a little when he saw what he now held. But his determination did not falter, and he tucked his little charge into his own pocket.

“Come on, Granger,” he said calmly, and Hermione followed without any complaint.

**~HP~**

The air was warm that evening, so unlike the damp nip that had hung over the valley twelve months before. There was not one cloud to block out the fading orange sky, and a silent wind blew around the castle towers and through the courtyards. It was a gentle breeze, nothing that would knock anything about, but it was just enough to blow tresses of hair gracefully, and it was enough to carry pink and white blossoms from the delicate limbs of the western courtyard’s dogwood tree into Rose’s lithe, open hand.

For an hour she had been there, sitting in the very spot she and Dante had made their own all those years ago. For an hour, she swam into the well of her memories, and every time she resurfaced, she was left feeling like Dante was still sitting beside her, laughing at the ghost of a conversation. She knew that it might not have been the best idea to be there, but something about that place and about that night just called to her, and Rose could not stay away.

But now she couldn’t leave. The sun was slipping slowly behind the mountains, but nothing could make her move from her spot on that bench.

She still wasn’t ready to let go.

“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

Rose’s focus suddenly shifted from the curling flower petals between her fingers to the doorway from which she heard the melodic baritone voice, and her breath got caught in her throat when she noticed Severus standing there. She swallowed hard when he started walking towards her; he was gripping his lower back, pulsing from supporting the unseen weight in front, and Rose could see his pain in every line in his forehead.

“Oh Severus, what are you doing here?” she asked in almost a whine. “You know you shouldn’t be walking all around the castle in your state. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t going to go to that service without ensuring that you were there as well,” said Severus. “There were some who were under the impression that you promised to attend.”

“I didn’t promise you. I thought you would understand.”

“I do understand, Rose.” Severus slowly started to walk across the grassy square to where the witch was sitting under the tree. “I think even you know that running and hiding like this will not make anything easier, for you or anyone else.” He sat down on the stone bench beside his beloved, bereaved Gryffindor. Rose looked up at him from the side, and when she was certain that there was no one left inside the castle to see them, she rested a calm hand on Severus’s stomach, paying no notice to the magical energy his concealment charms sent surging through her fingers.

“Hermione told you where I was,” she mumbled, stroking her thumb over her lover’s slumbering unborn child. “Didn’t she?”

“Only because I asked it of her,” said Severus. “Actually, she escorted me here, for everyone’s peace of mind.” He pointed to the archway from which he came, and Rose looked to see Hermione’s gently waving hand in the shadows before disappearing behind the wall again, content to allow her friend her privacy. Rose then turned back to Severus.

“And you,” she said,” Are you feeling well at least?”

Severus could only answer with a nod; he couldn’t take any more of this forced calm Rose was putting on for him. So gently, he wrapped his arm around his young love’s shoulders, and he brought her close to rest against his chest. Already, he could hear Rose breathing hard into his robes as that calm was slowly lost to her.

“What can I do?” he asked her, breathing in her sweet scent. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Rose said with a sigh. “Severus, I am so tired of people asking me how they can help when they can’t because I can barely help myself. How many times do I have to blow them off before they understand that it’s me that’s the problem?”

“Then why not help yourself? Rose, you have been sitting in this courtyard for the best part of an hour. You can hear the carriages taking people out to the shore of the lake, and yet I find you here.”

For the first time in days, Rose found herself pressed against the wall she had been dancing around. She had lost the will to make excuses, to pretend she was hearing what her loved ones were saying. And her declaration of defeat, her manifesto of all she loathed to admit, came out as, “I’m not ready.”

“Not ready for what?” asked Severus.

“To let him go,” Rose mumbled in almost a whisper. Another little white flower fell off the tree above her, and it landed gently beside her. Again, Rose felt the urge to run her fingers of that smooth surface. Severus let out a sigh, letting Rose rest against his shoulder.

“Oh Rose,” he crooned. “Is that what all this is about? Love, no one said that you had to let go of Macleod for good.”

“I do if I want my life with you and the baby. What kind of woman would I be if I allowed another man’s memory ruin my family? I can’t do that to you, and I can’t do it to our baby.”

“If I thought you would do something like that, I would have thrown you out last night.” Severus reached around Rose’s shoulders, and he laced his fingers through the strands of her hair. He massaged her scalp gently, and he heard Rose’s soft sigh of relaxation, as slight as it was. “You know, I think you are going about this the wrong way.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” asked Rose, appalled that the clever Severus Snape would say such a thing. “There is no right way to go about this.”

“Just let me speak, Rose,” said Severus. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I think you are grieving for the wrong reason. There was more to your relationship with Dante Macleod than just your romantic potential together. In this misery you have made for yourself, you have forgotten what that boy really was to you. For one moment, Rose, just think of that, and not what his love for you has caused…who was he, Rose?”

Rose bit down on her bottom lip, glancing up to the fading sky. She blinked back the teary burn in her eyes to see the first stars of night appearing. “He was my best friend,” she said, voice almost breaking. “He was the best friend I ever had. We had a lot of good times.”

“Tell me about them then,” said Severus. He rubbed Rose’s arm as though to encourage her. “What are your fondest memories of him?”

“As if I could choose…I mean, I remember how he used to collect Wizard cards when we were kids. He loved those things, Dante. He used to tell me it would make him rich one day, and I got so much free chocolate because of it. Then those days when we always used to sit on this bench, studying together under this dogwood tree. Or all those times we were brewing partners, and Dante would let me prepare all the herbs because he was afraid he would botch it up. And then you would stand right over us and compliment Dante on a job well done as you watched me do all the work.”

Severus tittered at that particular thought, with only the slightest under-layer of guilt. “To be fair, I gave him credit because he was always smart enough to have you as his partner. He was a clever lad, but his aptitude for brewing was as nil as Longbottom’s.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but he was wicked when it came to Transfiguration,” said Rose. In spite of herself, her lips twitched into a hesitant smirk. “His best trick was animating the statues and scaring the First years, and we never got tired of it. And all those Quidditch matches, me and him, sitting on the dividing line between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Those days, we were an odd couple if there ever was one…oh god, I miss him.”

“I know,” comforted Severus. “But did you see what just happened? You thought about your life with Dante, and you did not break down. Your eyes got a little brighter, and it has been too long since I have seen you smile. Remembering him doesn’t have to kill you, and letting go of the past will not kill you either.”

Rose sighed. “That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt,” she whispered. There was a long silence between them, and Severus was beginning to grow concerned when suddenly Rose said, “You see that star up there?”

Severus looked up to the sky to where his lover’s finger pointed. Sure enough, a trifle’s distance from the tip of the waning moon, there was a tiny white speck. Easy to miss to the average, impassive eye, but it was still very clear to those who knew where to look. He then looked back at Rose, and he saw in her eyes a sad fondness that reminded him so much of himself when he was forced to love and admire her from afar.

“Dante was the one who first pointed it out to me,” explained Rose. “Every time I was down on myself, every time I thought I wasn’t special, he would point up and prove me wrong. Now I think of him every time I see it.”

“He was right to tell you that,” said Severus. “He could always tell that you were special. He saw it before I ever did. Why, I’ll always remember how he would come to my office after classes were dismissed and practically beg me to change his marks, saying that his good grades were rightfully yours. He did it more times than I can recall.”

“He believed in all that was right,” mumbled Rose. “And he gave his life for it…for...”

Severus brought Rose closer to his side, and he tucked her head under his chin. “It’s alright to call him a hero, Rose. Anyone who puts himself between his friend and certain death rightfully deserves to be called such. And he was a hero among a house of traitors. As long as Hogwarts stands, he will be remembered well for generations to come.”

“But why does it always have to be when we’re gone? If Dante were here right now, he would be completely chuffed that people would say things like this about him. And just what would he be remembered as? The one Slytherin that refused to conform? Or just a simple fool who died for stupid love?”

“Be careful of what you say, love,” said Severus. “You know that by that logic, both you and I are simple fools. We both bear scars of that devotion.”

“You know what I mean, Sev.” Rose nuzzled into her professor’s chest, and she sniffed back the last shreds of sadness trying to break out. She felt it as Severus dipped his chin down to kiss the top of her head. “God…oh god, I miss him. I can’t believe I’m saying this, Severus, but I still can’t see how Dante could be stupid enough to jump in front of that bloody curse. Did he not know what he would be doing to us? Did he not know what he would miss?”

“Again, you’re focusing on regret,” said Severus, scratching gently at Rose’s scalp to relax her. “Dante knew he would be missing a lot with his sacrifice, but ultimately, that was his purpose. He would have rather seen you flourish than live without you. So if you have to ask me, I don’t think he would mind that much. Tell me Rose, how do you think he would feel if he saw you tonight?”

Rose fell quiet for a moment, biting her lower lip in thought. “He wouldn’t like seeing me like this, how I’ve spent the last two days.”

“Indeed, but without that, how would he feel?”

“He would be happy. He would be happy because I was alive.”

“And?”

The exhausted young witch had to actually look up at her lover at that one. In one word, Rose had never heard Severus sound more like her old Potions master, the one that chilled her younger self to the bone. But there was also feeling in that word that she and only she could hear. She knew what Severus wanted to hear, and the pressure released from her chest when she saw it to be the truth.

“And that I was out there living.”

“How do you think Dante would have felt about the two of us?” Severus asked with a slight arch in his brow. Rose let out a breathy giggle. “I think he would be annoyed that it was you instead of him, but he would be happy. Not just that we have a relationship, but that we are happy together. He’d give us his blessing.”

“And if he was to hear about my pregnancy?”

“He’d pass out.” Severus let out a laugh at Rose’s blunt response, which finally coaxed Rose to do the same. “But once he recovered, I think you’d have an even better bodyguard than Draco and Harry combined. He really admired you, Severus. I mean, until the whole incident with Dumbledore and the Death Eaters, he would have followed everywhere you lead…and he probably still would.”

Severus stroked down the side of Rose’s face, and he nearly got lost in the glimmering stars reflected in her glossy blue eyes. A slow, warm tear trickled down her cheek and over his thumb. Severus gently flicked it away before rubbing away the slick, wet trail. “He was a good man, and that is how he’ll be remembered,” he said. “And I want you to take my word for it, Rose. You will see him again one day. I know you don’t believe that I saw Lily on the other side a year ago, but I sense that Dante Macleod is with her now, conspiring together on how to keep the two of us on our toes.”

Rubbing the last traces of wetness from her eyelashes, Rose looked gazed up at Severus with a childlike wonder that found its way to the surface of her troubled emotions, and in the eyes of the Potions master, the beauty of her youth overpowered a heavy heart every time. “Do you really think that, Severus?” she asked. “I mean _really_ think it?”

“Yes Rosie,” said Severus, offering a subtle smile. “I didn’t read his letter to you, but I don’t believe I need to in order to know his intentions. Dante wrote that letter to tell you that he loved you, not to say goodbye. When that day comes that you can join him, he’ll be there, waiting for his best friend. But he knew that wouldn’t be for a very long time. And until then, he’d want you to live like he was there to see it all, and he is.” He lowered his hand down to where Rose’s lay in her lap, and he gently pried open her lax fingers. He then reached into his breast pocket to rest something small into her palm.

“Dante left his memory to you,” said Severus. “And it’s up to you to keep it alive.” He then let go of Rose’s hand, and he watched as she let her fingers flutter open like the flowers above their heads. Rose swallowed behind her trembling lips, looking down on the silver ring resting in her hand, her eyes locked on the embossed Slytherin crest.

“Are you alright, Rose?”

“He was so proud of being a Slytherin, through it all,” whispered the witch. “All those years, and he never took it off. It was the one thing of him that I wanted. But they never found it, not in his things, not on his person. It was just gone.”

“Until now,” said Severus, and he hugged Rose’s shoulders in support. “Potter found it in with the letter, and no one would want to go against Dante’s wishes. His ring is yours now.”

“But Severus,” Rose very nearly whimpered as she held up her right ring finger to show Severus the ring he himself had given her. “I have you now. I can’t keep this, it’ll be disrespectful to you.”

“No one said you had to wear it,” said Severus. “But I know you too well, and you loved this boy too much. You will regret it if you tuck this away into your trunk, never to be seen again.” Rose sighed as she shook her head. A fist formed around the tarnished silver ring, and Rose pressed her clenched fingers to her lips. The only thing that brought her back was the feel of Severus’s lips on her temple.

“Come to the service, Rose,” he said into her ear. “Let go of the hurt.”

Rose sighed with exertion, just trying to fight off the nausea beginning to settle in her stomach. “You’ve given me too much, Severus. You don’t need to say these things…why would you?”

“Think of what have been through together, love. You have done so much to help me when you didn’t have to, and after Godric’s Hollow, you deserve to hear every word. And right now, I like to think I’m saying what Dante would want you to hear. He wouldn’t want you having such a bleak outlook so needlessly.”

Rose was silent when she turned her chin up, resting it on her hand. She looked conflicted, to put it simply, but what was missing was that long sense of forlornness. She could finally see clearly again through her fog-filled mind. But in spite of that, she did not look any surer of herself. She was still anchored under that dogwood tree.

Severus let out a long sigh; in all his years teaching teenagers, he had learned when to give up the fight when there was no point in trying anymore. So with regret, he pulled his hands away from Rose, and he braced himself to get to his feet. But before he could get a sturdy footing, he suddenly jerked with a hard grunt, and his hand flew to his belly, gritting his teeth and pressing his eyes shut.

“Sev, what’s wrong?!” Rose asked with haste. She grabbed onto Severus’s arm as he collapsed back down onto the bench, and she pressed her hand to Severus’s stomach. “Was that a contraction?”

“No Rose, calm down,” rasped the pregnant wizard. “The baby – _pant_ – the baby just jabbed its foot into my liver. Hurts like hell.”

“Is everything okay?” asked Hermione as she came dashing out of the shadows.

“Yes Granger, just help me up.” Severus pulled himself out of Rose’s grasp to the sound of her quiet gasp, and he held his hand out to Hermione. The Head Girl briefly appeared to be horrified at the thought of what was being asked of her; appearances aside, Severus was no waif, and that was without the thirty or so extra pounds of baby weight. But after a silent plead from heavy black eyes, she gave a short smile and turned to get a firm footing on the dirt ground. One hefty pull, then another, and Severus was up and gently nudging Hermione back inside.

“But sir, what about Rose?” asked Hermione in a whisper as she looked back to her friend on the bench. “Isn’t she coming with us?”

“I think we have to let her decide,” Severus told her in a low voice. He started walking ahead so that he passed Hermione by. “There is not much more I can say.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Hermione said, speaking up as much as she could while still staying below Rose’s hearing ability. “You’re just going to give up like that? You make that fuss about being allowed to see her, and you’re just going to leave her here?”

“I can only do so much, Granger,” said Severus.

Hermione bit on her lip to bleeding proportions. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right for Rose, it wasn’t right for them, it wasn’t right for anyone! But she knew that look on Severus’s face, that look of being at the end of the road with his word as the last. Hermione could try all she wanted to change his mind, but all for naught. And if she couldn’t bring Rose around after two full days of emotional toil, then who’s to say she could now. Pressing her eyes shut, she took in a hard breath before stepping forward.

But then as swiftly as a blink, a brush of air swept by. It was so quick that Hermione barely had time to open her eyes, and she came to an abrupt stop. The gasp that would have gripped her throat receded to a sigh at the sight of Rose laying her hands on Severus’s arm, looking up at him with an exhausted glance, but with the ghost of a smile on her lips. Taking his arm back, he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, and then he nudged her along to get her moving with him.

“Come along, Granger,” came the low rumble of Severus’s voice, and Hermione couldn’t help the smirk of tremendous relief that she kept hidden behind her roommate’s turned back.

**~HP~**

The lapping of lake water and singing crickets were the only sounds to be heard in the valley beneath Dumbledore’s low, melodic tone. On fine wooden benches conjured up for the occasion, the denizens of Hogwarts sat with solemn respect. There was no attempt at house seating, as if anyone thought it prudent. Instead, friends sat among friends, leaders amidst followers, and mentor beside pupil. Many sat alert to their surroundings, taking in each word with great care, while others turned their eyes to the ground, choosing to watch from the safety of their own minds. There were tears, as to be expected, but the pain had long since gone, leaving behind that dull sadness with would last as long as memory itself.

Dumbledore’s speech was short; it would have been reiteration of what everyone there had already known. But through the bereavement of an old man who had buried a child, and the guilt of having been the absent commander while the foot soldiers fell, there was a tremendous sense of pride. His students, his staff, and his friends, they were everything that Hogwarts was, and everything that it stood for. He was proud to have had a hand in all of their upbringings, and that he was part of the inspiration that spurred them all on.

Harry and Hermione could only touch upon what they had seen. They talked about how the best years of their lives were spent on that suspense, and that struck a core with too many. Old injuries suddenly started to hurt again, accompanied by visions of how they came to be. Lavender now wept into her hands; for the first time, her housemates really saw the effect that a werewolf mauling always brought. Of them all, Lavender should not have lived, but she was spared by divine mercy and the same bravery that sent her into war. But in the end, that was what made Harry the proudest man in the world. Everyone knew what could happen to them just as much as he did, and there was a choice laid out for all of them. And still they all stood by, and now they were all united as faithful brothers in arms. Hermione declared that her classmates helped her to find new hope in humanity, and Harry proudly proclaimed that defeating Lord Voldemort was not his victory, but all of theirs. There had never been such a sense of unity in Hogwarts’ long history, and there never would be again.

As the sun set behind the mountains, they began reading the list of names aloud. Each Head of House took turns reciting names of those who had once been part of their little families. And after a respectful pause, punctuated by the strangely orchestral sounds of the valley, a white lily flower bearing a single magical flame was set adrift on the water, cast out by a loved one of the deceased. This, according to nearly all, was probably one of the most moving things to happen on Hogwarts grounds, and people cried for those they never knew. There was the pain of watching a younger sibling say goodbye to the elder, one friend honoring another, and in one particularly sad case, a husband remembering his beloved wife. Before most could sense how much time had passed, dozens of little white and yellow lights danced and reflected across the lake’s surface, and in a world filled with such wonders, more than a few could admit that they had never seen such a celestial sight.

In a move that both inspired and chastised, Draco took responsibility for those few worth mentioning from Slytherin. He could no longer speak for himself or his involvement with the Death Eaters, but he knew that his reputation need not taint the memory of his housemates. No, they were not saints, but they were not Death Eaters either. More than that, these were people Draco knew and valued. So he stepped forward when no one else would, he laid the candle-like flowers onto the water, ripples bouncing against his shoes, and he held his head high as he walked past the long stares to take the next.

But then the name Dante Macleod was read off, and even Severus was left with an uncomfortable pause when he came to it. His eyes shot up to the congregation of students, just searching for movement, a simple reaction. But he saw none, save for the sadness-drenched panic in the eyes of Hermione and Ron. He deliberately chose not to look at Harry; he knew the reaction was no better, but he also didn’t want to cast suspicion on himself. Draco it seemed also took the silence as his cue once again, and he stepped up to receive yet another flower from McGonagall.

“Wait…”

Both Draco and McGonagall paused suddenly, and Severus turned his head out sharply. Rose silently stood up from her front row bench, shaking slightly in her weakness, and an emotionally numb Ron helped her with a hand around her shoulders and arm. Without another word, she walked across the soft grass to where her professor waited. There was no great surprise at this, as most did not know half of this sad story. But there was still a sense of shock and sadness amongst those few who knew the entire tale, bore witness to the last twenty-four hours. Rose cupped her hands to receive the lily bud, and she glanced up at Severus, standing before the list of names. He gave her a subtle nod; he knew she was not seeking approval, but encouragement. Rose in return offered up with what might have been a smile. She then turned toward the water’s edge, gently guided by a dazed, helpless, confused, Draco.

She waded into the lake, her shoes disappearing beneath the surface, ever glancing at the white bud in her palms. She bit her lip as she watched it open slowly to reveal the warm little flicker of flame. Bending at her knees, Rose rested her hands into the cool water, and she let the ripple catch the lily’s petals, carrying it out into the deep, far away from her reach. She watched it float away with an aching heart, but she no longer felt the emptiness that sought to consume her.

Severus was right. The past was behind her, and it did not own her. She was no longer the same person she was when she stood with Dante on that shore at sunset, the same wide-eyed child who fell in love so easily, and her life had never and would never be so simple again. But it wasn’t over yet, not for a long, long time. She would always have her memories of Dante Macleod, and she could live on knowing that she had his heart. Her best friend could rest peacefully in the happiness that she kept.

No one came to pull her out of the water right away, probably because no one wanted to provoke her. Even as the last words were said, and young people began to start the long walk up to bed, Rose sat on the sandy shore, just watching the little flickering lights in the distance. Entranced in the evening stillness, she only barely heard the footsteps approaching behind her, and she turned up to meet Severus’s deep, ebony gaze. The Potions master smirked when he noticed how the silent witch was caressing Dante’s ring in her lithe fingertips, now hanging off the chain of the locket around her neck. It was a fitting way to wear it, he thought, and did not mind how it combined with the symbol of his own love for her. Rose saw this in Severus’s eyes, and she smiled as she finally stood. As Draco quietly moved toward his Head of House, Severus laid his hand on Rose’s shoulder, and Rose leaned into that gentle touch, nothing more needed to convey the emotions that had been long spent.

The last thing Severus did before making his way to the carriage where Dumbledore and McGonagall waited for him was ask Harry to watch over Rose until he could be with her again.

**~HP~**

“You know guys, for once, I have to give it to Snape,” Harry mused, half aloud in the middle of the dark Gryffindor common room. Again, it was long past evening hours, and they were free to speak freely without fear of being overheard. “I was prepared for him to be his worst, and to actually allow it. But he really impressed me out there, the way he handled all of us. I mean, I never thought there would come a day when he could treat me with some respect, and I would actually believe it.”

“That’s because it wasn’t about him tonight,” said Rose. Stretched out across the floor in the common room, she was leaning her back against the sofa the Head Boy was taking up, fiddling the glass from which she had recently drained her small tempting of whiskey. “It didn’t matter where he was last year because he had made his peace with what happened between him and Voldemort. He did almost die that morning, but he pulled through. And as far as he’s concerned, that’s the end of it. It was us he was worried about. He was rather afraid that we wouldn’t be nearly as composed.”

“And quite rightly,” Harry added. “I don’t know what he said to you to make you come around like this, but the way I see it, he’s a miracle worker.”

“Now Harry,” Hermione interjected from her place in the chair by the fire. “You can’t give all the credit to Severus. It took a lot of courage for Rose to do that. If she hadn’t wanted to go through with it, then nothing we did would have mattered.”

“You know, it’s a little disconcerting to listen to you guys talk about me like I’m not here.” Rose carefully rolled her head around, flexing and relaxing the muscles in her sore neck. “What I did has nothing to do with anything any of you did. It was my choice to be there, and it was my choice to pay my respects to Dante. It’s what he would have wanted.”

“He would be proud of you, Rose,” said Harry. He looked over the rim of his glasses to watch Rose begin fingering the silver locket about her neck, and the Slytherin crest ring hanging from its chain. “And he would be proud that Snape would go to such trouble for you.”

“Severus did what you would have done for Ginny,” said Hermione. “You remember the day of Fred’s funeral, how hard it was to get her out of her room before you had a go. He was just doing everything he could to help Rose, even if it was just giving her that last little inch.”

Harry sighed with a slight shake of his head. “Still, you have to admit that Macleod would not be disappointed in anyone if he were here right now. Even you have to admit it, Rose. He left you in some very good hands.”

“I’m just doing what he hoped I would,” murmured Rose. “One way I’m not like Severus. I couldn’t live that way for very long, and I feel better now that it’s over.”

“Getting a little drunk doesn’t hurt either, I’ll bet.”

Rose smirked, and she raised her glass cheekily. “As long as I can get to the dungeons before morning, I’m good.” She angled her head in time to giggle at Harry’s inevitable eye-roll, though it was not without a smile with a certain warmth. Getting through this long, arduous day had been tremendous relief, but for these two weary Gryffindors, it felt way better to have the old Rose back with them.

There was suddenly a low, but hurried thumping that came down the steps of the boys’ dormitories as Ron stumbled into the sitting area, pajama bottoms clinging to his hips under the old, sweat-stained tee shirt that made up his nightly ensemble. The slump in his shoulders showed the wear and tear of the day, but the smile that split across of his face could not have been brighter as he waved aloft a sheet of parchment in a tightly clenched hand.

“It’s a girl!” he yawped, making his friends jump at the proclamation. Laughing, he raced around Hermione’s chair to get to a spot from which he could see all their reactions. “Bill and Fleur, they had their baby today, and it’s a girl! Guys, I’m an uncle!”

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy there mate,” Harry said with a cheeky grin, speaking over the breathy laughs of the two girls. “Give us some details, why don’t you? When did it happen? Is there a name yet?”

“Oh yeah, there’s a name alright. It was the first thing that Ginny put down in her letter. Almost couldn’t make it out, she wrote so damned fast. Baby was born just after four this afternoon, seven pounds and eight ounces. Ginny says that Mum and daughter are both doing very well, and to quote my sister quoting my apparently dead chuffed mother, Bill’s just hopped on his broom to go tell his mates. And get this, guys, her name’s Victoire.”

“Victoire?” Rose said with an arched eyebrow. “That’s French for victory, isn’t it?”

“It is,” said Hermione, nodding with a smile. Already, she could feel the mistiness of happy tears forming in her eyes, over the moon with happiness for a couple who she had come to think of as family, family she hoped to call her own one day. “And so very befitting for the occasion. Oh Ron, I’m so happy for you!” She promptly leapt up to fling her arms around Ron’s shoulders, planting a hard kiss right on his lips as they laughed into each other’s mouths.

Down on the floor, Rose was laughing as well, a toothy grin on her lips as she watched her friends. In a few short seconds, she felt worlds better, a tremendous weight lifted off of her chest. Even though it was happening to a couple she hardly knew, the joy she felt was no less real. “Congratulations Ron,” she said, knowing that it was unheard in the sudden fit of snogging Ron and Hermione were currently tangled in. “Be sure to send my love to the Weasleys at home.” She then shot a look at the clock on the wall, and seeing the approaching eleven o’clock hour, she got on her hands and knees to crawl away from the sofa. It took all of five seconds for Harry to notice her leaving.

“Going somewhere, Rose?” he asked her with a smirk. Rose looked at the Head Boy with a waif-like glance that reminded Harry very much of Luna Lovegood, and she slowly started to stand up, saying, “Severus is waiting for me. I better get to him before he starts to get antsy.”

“Date night?” Rose could tell that Harry was joking with her when he said that, but she still shook her head in response.

“Just keeping him company…and I kind of promised him a tummy rub. Helps calm the baby down so he can sleep.” Harry nodded his understanding, though Rose could see the slight shudder as the mental image of that seeped into his head. Just to add to the obvious awkwardness, Rose turned with a smirk of her own and said, “When you can’t have sex anymore, you make do with what you have.”

“I’m sure,” said Harry, letting his eyes trail away in an obvious display of his awkward discomfort. Rose smirked when she saw this; to be frank, she was just happy that she could actually talk about her sex life with her friends, let alone joke about it. She nodded her head in evening farewell, and she turned toward the portrait hole.

“Hey Rose, wait up!” Rose stopped abruptly at the sound of Harry’s voice, and she cocked her brow as she watched him leap up from the sofa and grab his wand to summon his invisibility cloak. But before she could inquire about what he was up to, he provided the answer with a simple, yet unexpected explanation. “Snape wanted me to keep an eye on you, so I might as well deliver you to him, don’t you think?”

“Aw Harry,” said Rose, all that she was able to produce in her appreciation. He really didn’t need to escort her down to the dungeons, but the fact that he was offering showed her just how far he had come in his relations with Severus. He wasn’t just doing what he was asked, but rather keeping a promise. And it was that which Rose could not say no to.

“Hey, I’m sure the last thing he wants is for you to get caught out of bed. And knowing Severus Snape, he’s probably just waiting for an excuse to chew my head off.”

“Ah Harry, he wouldn’t do that, lest of course the baby comes tonight, in which case you’re free meat.” For sarcastic intent and purposes, Rose knocked Harry in the shoulder with a weak fist. The two of them said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, the former of which only looked at them long enough to smile and nod before continuing in his personal celebration of newfound uncle-hood, and once Harry and Rose were out into the corridors, he and Hermione went tumbling back onto the sofa, babbling on about how little Victoire’s first words were certainly going to be “Chudley Canons.”

**~HP~**

The walk was quiet, and the walk was uninterrupted, and for the first time, Harry proudly walked around the castle like he owned the place. He doubted that even if they were seen, that anyone would contest their being there in the middle of the night. Harry was Head Boy, his curfew was later than anyone else’s, and anyone who was with him was immune to real trouble. And Rose found tremendous relief in this strange freedom, that for once in a long while, she was walking with Harry as a friend. She felt a little twinge in her stomach when she realized how eerily similar this night was to those she spent with Dante, but if anything, it helped to bring back the good feelings she once associated with them.

When she pointed this out to Harry as the two of them slipped past Nearly-headless Nick on the second floor, the famed and exhausted Boy-who-lived had to whisper back that the storm must be truly over then.

As they approached the door to Severus’s personal quarters, Harry’s attention turned to their surroundings, and he lowered his voice considerably until it was barely audible to Rose. “Remember, we’re still sticking to the plan,” he muttered. “If Snape goes into labour overnight, send a Patronus to Malfoy, and he’ll get help.”

“I know, Harry, don’t fret,” said Rose. “You be careful going back, and watch out. Filch’s cat likes to stalk mice down here some nights.”

“Thanks Rose.” Harry smiled at her, and he let the hem of the invisibility cloak fall to his feet. Rose assumed that this was the indication that they were through for the night, and she gripped the rough door handle to activate the wards.

“Hey Rose,” Harry suddenly said, almost startling the witch. He shifted his feet on the stone floor when Rose looked at him with those wide blue eyes that spoke louder than words. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh Harry, no need for that,” said Rose. “You’ve done enough for me without condolences, just by being there for me these last few months. Dante would be really happy to know I have you as a friend.”

“It was really nothing,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “It was Snape’s doing, really. It was him that got you through today. Hell, I’m only here right now because he asked me to. Macleod would be really proud to know you’ve got something like that behind you.”

“Sounds to me like you’re trying to compliment Severus,” Rose said with a relaxed smirk, and Harry just replied, “I think I have always known it, but I just didn’t want to say it. You’ve got a good man.”

Rose sighed, half to herself, and the words seamlessly found their way to her thin lips. “You’ve said it yourself that he’s a good man. You just didn’t want to admit that he’s a good boyfriend.”

“That’s probably true, but there’s no sense in denying it now, is there? Severus Snape would not have asked me for a favor unless he really loved you.”

“And I wouldn’t have gotten through that memorial if I wasn’t so in love with him. He was willing to risk going into early labour for me, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

_‘You tried to take down a pack of Death Eaters for him.’_ Harry had to suddenly pause in thought as he looked at Rose through the dark. For so long, he had been looking at her relationship with Severus from a distance; he knew he could not pull Rose away, he knew their feelings were genuine, and he accepted it as truth. But it was only then that Harry realized how disconnected he was from the depth of that truth. Rose’s selflessness was not something she spent frivolously; she did not put her life on the line for just anyone. She would not invest so much in something which she did not see a great deal of worth, especially after having Dante Macleod so tragically taken from her.

In his attempts to remove himself from Severus’s life, Harry had not seen how profound the bond between Rose and their Potions master really was.

“You’re in this for the long run, aren’t you?” he said to Rose. “You’re really going to stay with Snape once all this is over.”

Rose gave Harry a long stare with relaxed blue eyes, silent, as though she debated how she should answer. She looked him head to toe, and she breathed deeply and peacefully through her nose. Finally, as she twisted her wrist to open the chamber door, she turned her head to look at Harry from the side, and she muttered, “Until the end.”

Silently bidding Harry goodnight, she slipped through Severus’s door and disappeared into his chambers. Harry stood there for a short while, and once it had properly sunken in, he flung his invisibility cloak over his head and started on his way home, filled with the warmth that Rose’s short words had stirred in his heart and memory.

Dante Macleod had gotten exactly what he wanted after all, and he was probably smiling down on them all to see the incredible happiness he left behind.


	78. Calm before thunder

A week passed by with barely any notice, and for the second time in a year, the world was calm. Severus and Rose were no longer burdened in mind or spirit, and they felt a peace unlike anything they thought they had experienced before. Some of their worst nightmares had come true, all with one long-forgotten letter, and yet they were both still alive and kicking hard. More than that, Severus had finally won the true respect of Rose’s friends, and their loyalty was no longer forced, a relief in itself that nearly brought Rose to tears. There was nothing left to fight. Their path was well and truly clear. Life together as they knew it had certainly changed, but they welcomed it without fear.

And it could not have come at a better time.

**~HP~**

Severus woke up suddenly around four in the morning on the ninth of May to a strange feeling. His stomach was cramping, starting low in his abdomen and slowly working its way around to tighten his back. Even still half-asleep, he could tell that it was another false contraction; they had been coming on and off since just before midnight, all only mildly painful to the point of nuisance. But they had never been anything worth waking up for, especially at this hour. Though the sharp ache was no worse, he couldn’t help but wonder if these were different. Was he finally coming closer to seeing the child that had caused so much in the last nine months?

Any day now…

Sitting up to massage his cramping belly, he looked over his shoulder and saw that Rose was still asleep beside him. In fact, she showed no sign of her imminent awakening, with her soft breathing and the perfectly relaxed splay of limbs. Severus had a long standing agreement with his young lover; the nights they spent together (which by now was every night of the week), he would not wake her before the charm she had set did at five. But Rose had made that a bit complicated as of late. If Severus ever thought he might be going into labour, she wanted to know immediately. But Severus certainly didn’t want to burden her, most especially if it caused her to lose sleep. With a huff of breath, he tried to settle back into bed to fall back to sleep. But he could not get comfortable, no matter how he lay or what he thought, and he could tell that this would be a long day.

He had been tossing and turning for just over half an hour when another dull cramp took hold of him, accompanied by a piercing pain to the small of his back. Unprepared for that acutely throbbing sensation, Severus let out a hard gasp, and he breathed deeply as he waited for it to subside. But he stilled when he started to hear a low grunting next to him, and Rose rolled over in bed to face him.

“Sev?” she whispered, bleary-eyed and a little delirious. “What are you doing up?”

“It’s nothing, Rosie,” said Severus. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Severus tried to remain as subdued as ever he was, but the pain in his belly peaked sharply, and he couldn’t help the soft groan that tried to escape his tightly pressed lips. Rose instantly sat up in bed, saying, “You don’t sound fine.”

“Rose, it’s alright.” It was Severus’s intent to be sincere, but when he tried to turn over to look his lover in the eye, the pain in his lower back shot down into his heavily laden pelvis, and he quickly changed his mind as he swallowed the grunt. “Actually on second thought, no, I’m not entirely fine.”

Just as he thought, Rose perked up instantly, concern etched into her sleep lines. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her unease coloring her voice. She inched closer to Severus and settled near his chest. Severus, much out of habit, draped his arm around Rose’s shoulder to keep her close, and he told her calmly, “It’s just Braxton Hicks, love. They’re a bit stronger today.”

“How long have you been having the contractions?” asked Rose.

“I’ve been feeling them since midnight, but they haven’t been too painful. They’ve only been uncomfortable for about an hour.”

“Severus!” Rose blurted out, sitting up again. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner? How far apart are the pains?”

Severus couldn’t be too sure about that, considering he had been asleep for much of the last five hours, in between his usual trips to the loo. But to his benefit, he had been able to mentally time the two contractions he’d had since four. Perhaps there was some good in his inability to relax this early in the morning. “As of right now, only forty to fifty minutes, but closer to fifty.”

Rose nodded her head, sighing softly through her nose. “Alright, so one every hour. What about the cramps? How intense are they?”

“Rose, calm down,” said Severus as he reached up to touch Rose on the cheek. “They are cramps, and they are manageable. If I had to guess, they are no worse than what you have to deal with every month.”

“That’s not very comforting, Severus,” said Rose, as serious as the pregnant wizard had ever heard her. “They’re hurting you, aren’t they?”

Alright, Severus was nervous now. For weeks, he had been preparing for the aspect of going into labour, and for the inevitable pain that would come with it. Despite everyone else’s fretfulness, he kept telling himself that he would not get ahead of himself and get flustered over what might or might not be the real deal. But he couldn’t count on his reaction at seeing Rose panic. He had been counting on Rose to keep up the strength he so admired in her to keep him calm and composed, at least for as long as she was by his side. She couldn’t panic, not her, not now!

“I’m alright, Rose,” he said quietly. “Please don’t get too worried this early. We don’t even know if this really is labour or not.”

“But Severus, we can’t be sure,” Rose persisted. She placed her hand on his tight, protruding belly. Severus did not immediately respond, and so she continued, gently running her soft palm over the baby. “After all, you’ve never done this before. Hell, I’ve never done this before.”

“As well it should be,” said Severus. Quite content to leave this discussion where it was, he tugged Rose back down, relaxing when he felt her settle into the crook of his neck. Rose nuzzled him like a cat, but her grasp on her lover’s abdomen was tense, waiting for a single ripple of an oncoming contraction. Severus sighed to himself; Rose was no midwife, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he felt the love in her trying, and Severus was reminded of how lucky he was to have found a woman like her.

Before either of them had a chance to slip back into a slumber, the clock struck five, and the sharp pinging of Rose’s charm sounded off from across the room. Rose groaned deep in her throat, squinting through the dark, and she pushed herself up to reach for her wand, which was sitting amongst her discarded clothes on the floor. Rose had slept in her underwear that night, covered by a white shirt of Severus’s that no longer fit around his middle. Holding the ebony wood with a lithe grip, she lifted the charm and silenced the noise without getting out of bed.

“Rose, what are you doing?” asked Severus. “You know the routine; you have to beat the early risers in Gryffindor tower.”

“No way,” Rose said sternly. “I’m not leaving you alone now.”

“But Rose, you have to.” Now Severus was stern as he forced his heavy pregnant body into an awkward sitting position. “Your little friends might not mind if you stay out all night long, but the rest of them are not as stupid as we would like. They will notice your absence, and might I remind you, they have before.”

“Well, they don’t have a boyfriend who could drop kid any minute.” Rose stood – or rather sat – her ground for a long moment, but her morale fizzled when Severus turned one of his old Snape glares on her. And feeling the shiver in her body, Rose huffed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to worry, Rose,” said Severus. Seeing how his shirt slipped off one pale shoulder, he reached out to gently stroke the warm, soft skin it exposed. “I will be fine for now. Just go upstairs while you still can.”

“No Severus,” Rose replied. “There’s a reason why I keep an extra set of robes down here. We’re at a point in your pregnancy where we just can’t risk anything. I’ll just arrive late for breakfast. No one will know the difference.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Severus. “Look Rose, I’m only trying to look out for your safety. People can be suspect of me all they want, but not you.”

“Brilliant,” spat Rose, quite bitterly. “You’re the one having labour pains and you’re concerned about me.”

Severus could tell that Rose was overly tense, if not by the rigidity of her turned back, then by the forceful way she tugged on her socks. In fact, it was almost as though she was angry with him going into this day. But what much was evident, it was that this anger was born of fear. Severus could see the glimmer in the corner of Rose’s eye that told of how she was holding something back, so desperately trying to cling to the plan of complete composure she had assigned herself weeks ago. But for all her attempts, Rose’s youth and inexperience was as much a driving force as it was the day she and Severus met.

“What’s the matter, Rosie?” asked Severus as he gently ran his fingers down the soft skin of Rose’s face. He noticed how Rose’s face softened ever so slightly, and she turned to look over her shoulder at him. She always did respond better to her pet name, and some instances were better than others to use it. This, Severus mused to himself, was definitely one of those moments.

“I don’t want something to happen to you,” Rose told him earnestly. “Don’t pretend like we don’t know what this is. I love you, Sev, and I don’t want to see you suffer.”

“I love you too, Rose,” Severus replied. “And the last thing I want is for you to worry yourself sick over me. All of you need to calm down. Babies are born every day without incident.”

“Severus, the last time a wizard gave birth, King Henry was still working his way through his six wives. This is not without incident. And again, you are my boyfriend, about to have a baby. I couldn’t be calm about this if I tried.”

Rose felt Severus hook his fingers over her shoulder, and he tugged back slightly until she flopped down onto her back next to him, the white shirt floating about her knicker-clad body. She chewed on her bottom lip as she tried with all her might to keep her chin from trembling. Severus caressed her face from behind, just tempting the tears to start creeping in when he said, “Rose, it will be alright.”

Rose pursed her lips and shook her head. “You say that now. I can’t help it, Severus. I’m scared, for you and the baby. Is that not allowed? Am I not allowed to fear the worst happening during the birth?”

Severus understood every word Rose was saying, and she was right to say it all. Spouses had worried their way through childbirth for as long as man existed. All Rose was doing was filling the traditional male position. She was allowed to be scared, yes. But Severus couldn’t allow her to unravel so quickly at the mere thought of complications arising. He needed her to be strong, and he needed her to be supportive. He needed her to look past the actual birth to the amazing reality that there would be a baby, and that he would be raising it with her.

And more than anything, he needed her to invalidate his own growing fear burning in his stomach.

Babies were born every day, but anything at all could potentially happen. Severus knew the dangers he was facing, what his condition could do to him that would ultimately fulfill the curse that had enabled his pregnancy to begin with. It would not be the first time Severus wondered if childbirth would be the thing to do him in. Would bringing forth the child he now so loved and cherished ultimately kill him?

“Let’s just get through today,” he said to Rose, and the witch lifted herself up to receive the kiss he offered to her. “Now go, get dressed and go before the light breaks. You’ve lost enough time as it is.”

Rose looked at him like she wanted to object, but her eyes and her jaw relaxed reluctantly, and she slowly slipped off the bed to wander over to the chest of drawers, Severus watching her all the while. But as Rose bent down to fish out one of her own shirts, a sudden pain hit Severus, and he hunched over himself as he grasped his stomach with both hands.

“Oh…oh!” he chanted, breathing through the pressure squeezing his insides. This cramp was definitely stronger than those he had yet felt, and he tried to get into a more comfortable position to alleviate the pain. Only when he felt a second set of hands on his belly did he stop, and he looked up to meet Rose’s eyes. Those blue orbs were consumed with determination as she gently felt his massive bump, gaging the intensity of the contraction.

“I’m not leaving you, Severus,” she said, and she kissed him with a gentle fervor. Severus just sighed with the end of the contraction as Rose settled back down into the bed at his side.

**~HP~**

As it turned out, Rose came to regret her choices that morning. While she had Severus rest as much as he could, she herself could not fall back to sleep even for a moment, citing the need to keep time of Severus’s contractions. As it turned out, the pregnant wizard only ended up having one more wave of muted pain before Rose really did have to leave. This was enough to convince Severus that he was not in any immediate danger, and he assured Rose that he and the baby were safe for the time being. Of course, the one thing that actually got her moving was the promise that he would make it up to breakfast, a promise he did make good on, even though by the time he arrived at the Great hall, most had already had their fill of waffles and were now ready for class. But from what Rose could see from across the crowded hum of faces, he was not in distress, and so she finally allowed herself to come to rest. Only then did she remember what waking up before dawn really meant.

Her morning break was spent bent over a desk in the library with a soft-paged book as a makeshift pillow.

Hermione paged through her Arithmancy book carefully at lunch, one eye periodically darting back to where Rose sat across from her, pushing food around her plate. Obviously, her friends knew something was up the moment they saw her that morning, arriving late after having not seen her since the night before. They were not however keen to ask her just what was going on to make her look so tired. They knew that if anything of grave importance happened, Rose would be the first to tell them. But still, to Hermione especially, there was an air about her that was something akin to a brewing storm, and it had nothing to do with the inky clouds that were darkening the sky by the hour.

“Heard Slytherin had their Quidditch practice cancelled,” Harry said nonchalantly over his chicken sandwich. “Apparently, Madam Hooch doesn’t want anyone flying during the storm.”

“Really,” said Rose, a little sarcastic now that she was somewhat rested. “How many times you’ve almost been struck by lightning during a match and _they’re_ not allowed to practice. Makes no sense, unless Hooch is trying to ruin their chances at the cup.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Harry chuckled under his breath at the idea. In reality, Slytherin was out of contention for the house cup, and with only a few weeks left in term, there was really no hope of them making a comeback. Even though his own team hadn’t won just yet, Harry liked to toss that fact around for amusement.

They were about to get into the gritty work of their Charms assignment from that morning when suddenly Ron tapped Hermione’s wrist, muttering quietly, “Uh guys, where’s Snape?”

Rose flinched at the question, and she turned hard blue eyes to the head table. She felt a stone fall into her stomach when she saw that Severus was not at his place between Remus and Professor McGonagall. Now, Rose had enough sense to not freak out, but she noticed how the chatter amongst the foursome almost instantly died down. Swallowing noticeably, she looked down at Harry’s watch. An hour had passed since Severus’s last lesson, and that was, at the very least, twenty minutes too late.

Draco seemed to realize this as well, Rose noticed from across the room. The blonde Slytherin glanced repeatedly at his own pocket watch, and he nervously glanced up and down his house’s table, almost dismayed that no one else seemed to notice their Head’s absence. He then looked over at the Gryffindor table, and he and Rose caught each other’s eye. There was an unspoken connection between them, each knowing exactly what the other was thinking, and Draco pushed his plate away and got up to leave.

“I…I – I’ll be back,” Rose stammered, jostling herself over the bench and tugging the hem of her skirt to protect her modesty in her haste.

“Is everything okay, Rose?” asked Hermione. She already had a fair few ideas of how it would be the exact opposite, but she wasn’t about to jump to conclusions without good reason.

“Yeah, yeah,” replied Rose. She was talking over her shoulder as she had already started walking, speeding up when she saw Draco exit the Great hall. “I just need to check up on something. I’ll see you later.” Her stride widened even further, carrying her away from her friends and housemates, and any curious questions they might have had. Rose might have worried about suspicion any other day, but right now, that was not important.

She flew out into the corridor to find Draco standing beside the old statue of Godric Gryffindor. The moment he noticed her, the Slytherin again glanced around, paranoid, and then he slid over to match her pace as they turned toward the stairwell to the dungeons.

“When was the last time you saw him?” asked Draco, his voiced hushed but still audible.

“This morning,” said Rose. “He said he was having pains all through the night, but only one per hour. They were coming forty-five minutes apart when I left him at breakfast. What about you?”

“I checked on him before Transfiguration. I thought he looked tired, but he told me he was fine.”

“Likewise,” Rose shrugged. “Did he have any pains?”

“Not that I could tell,” said Draco. “But I’ve still got a bad feeling.”

“Try being me sometime.”

As they drew closer to the Potions classroom, both Draco and Rose seemed to temporarily forget that they were out in the open. Not once did it cross their minds that it would be odd to see them together, much less to see them huddled close in a fit of whispers. But even if they did look like some awkward couple on a forced second date, there was no detouring for either of them, and Draco grabbed hold of Rose’s arm as they flew down that last flight of stairs.

**~HP~**

Severus took in very slow, very deep breaths, pacing to and fro around his office to keep his body from tensing. Although, he thought to himself, what good was that really doing? The pain in his back felt like something torturous, like the muscles slowly being contorted and torn to shreds as the contraction reached its peak. For once, he was glad for the backaches he had lived with for three months, otherwise he might not have been able to cope with this as well as he was.

The contraction soon released its hold on Severus’s abdomen, and the Potions master took this moment to ease down into his office wingchair to rest. The first thing he did was look at the clock. That was the third contraction he had felt that hour. They were still spaced out by at least twenty minutes, and the pains were still only mildly bothersome. But none of that made this any more of a good sign. According to all the books, he was in the beginning stages of early labour, and if all went as it should, there was no stopping it now.

Alright, so this was happening. He would be having this baby in a few hours, and hopefully, he would be a father before sunrise the next morning. But still there was a certain emotional emptiness, all excitement pushed down by nerves. It was times like this that Severus almost wished there was a sliver of Gryffindor in him, if only to take the edge off his nagging anxiety.

As the muscles in his abdomen fully unraveled and relaxed, there suddenly came a pounding knock from outside his office door. Severus jumped in his seat at the loud noise, and he pressed a hand to his swiftly beating heart. Before he could be met with any more unpleasant surprises, he took hold of his wand and with a good jerk of his wrist, the door swung open. Draco bounded in, huffing and puffing with every wide step, and his face pinking with some exertion. Rose followed right on his coattails, and she too arrived with a heaving chest and flushing cheeks. Evidently, both of them had just gotten some impromptu exercise.

“Severus!” gasped Rose, looking terribly relieved to see him as she crossed the office floor to the heavily pregnant wizard’s side. Severus’s face relaxed into a passive smile, leaning back into his chair to welcome what was coming to him. He hummed his satisfaction when Rose’s lips touched his temple, though he did rest his hands atop his belly before his younger lover had her chance.

“Hello Rose,” he sighed, and he kissed her back. He then turned his head to Draco, who was now also closing in on his desk. “Draco, what are you two doing down here? People will talk if you and Rose are seen together.”

“We had to come check on you,” Draco explained. “Rose was fixing to have a heart attack when you didn’t show up to lunch.”

Rose shook her head with an odd smirk. “He’s lying, Sev. He was the one who started down here first. I just followed him. But forget about that.” She dropped down on one knee, gripping Severus’s sleeve gently. “How are you feeling? Have you had any more contractions?”

“A few,” said Severus. He regretted saying that to her face, because Rose’s lips twitched unpleasantly in response. “Still twenty minutes apart, just like this morning. But Rose, I’m alright. Now, help me up.”

“But Severus,” Rose tried to reason as Draco stepped forward to offer Severus his hand. “You can’t keep on saying that. You should at least go see Madam Pomfrey and let her check you over.”

“I will see Madam Pomfrey when I feel the need.” Severus grunted past tightly pressed lips, holding his back as Draco hauled him to a standing position, Rose hovering behind to aide if he stumbled. “Frankly, my ultimate concern at the moment is how badly I need the loo. If you two will excuse me –,” He pushed Draco to the side, and started walking over to adjoining office bathroom.

“Hey, Severus,” the younger Slytherin abruptly objected. “For such a clever guy, you’re being pretty stupid. Don’t you realize that you could be going into labour right now?”

“I am in pre-labour, Draco, and despite what you two might have heard in your young lives, childbirth does not happen in three minutes flat.” Severus stopped at the bathroom door to turn and look at both his godson and his girlfriend. “I still have time before I will need medical assistance, and the last thing I need is to be stuck in a hospital bed for longer than I have to be.”

“I understand, Severus,” said Rose. “But you can’t just sit around waiting for something to happen, and you’ll just have us running mad worrying about you.”

“I still have time, Rose,” Severus repeated. “It has been the better part of four hours, and there has been no major change, and I am still able to cope enough to carry on. Just let me get through the last couple of classes, and then I will go up to the hospital wing.”

“Is that a promise?” asked Rose. She crossed the room to stand in front of Severus, looking up into his deep ebony eyes. Severus could feel her tugging at his insides with those blue eyes of hers, and with a silent sigh, he said, “Yes Rose, I promise.”

Worrying her lower lip, Rose lifted her hand from her side, and she took hold of her lover’s hand. Severus noticed Draco rolling his eyes at this display of affection, but he was quick to ignore him. Instead, he turned his attention back to Rose, squeezing her hand in return and taking comfort in her touch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rose asked him, caressing the curve of his bump. Severus didn’t have to ask her what she was really referring to, if not his physical condition. It was obvious with the way she was staring up at him that she wanted to be sure that he was alright emotionally, not afraid like she and Draco clearly were. Even though he was slightly more concerned for her mental state under the circumstances, Severus smiled reassuringly at Rose, and he pressed a kiss to her pale forehead. Rose smirked in return, though not with the same confidence he was hoping for.

“Yes, my love, I will be alright for the time being.”

“You don’t need me to stay?”

“For Prospero’s sake, Rose, he can send for help if he needs it,” Draco objected, and Severus nodded with a smirk. To further imbed his will in the Gryffindor’s mind, he brought Rose’s face forward and kissed her again, and he muttered, “He’s right, love. You don’t have to worry about me. Now, both of you go back upstairs, and try to keep your heads.” Rose gulped hard at the back of her throat, but she did give a terse nod. Draco then took his cue and he grabbed the witch by the shoulder to tug her out of the room. Severus watched them go with a calm expression, holding onto the doorframe, trying to suppress the nauseous feeling of telling that half-truth.

**~HP~**

“You’re getting too involved, Rose.”

At the sound of Draco’s blunt statement, Rose skidded to a halt in the middle of the corridor, turning on her heel with a positively affronted expression of wrinkled brows and a dropped jaw. She and Draco had almost made it to the stairwell without a word when the blonde wizard suddenly felt the need to express himself. While struck with the instinct to defend herself, Rose had enough sense to look around the empty, open area before speaking.

“Excuse me, Draco?” she said. “You came running down here right along with me, and you say I’m getting too involved?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Draco tried to explain, rubbing his forehead like it took effort. “What I mean is that I think you’re starting to forget your place. As far as we’re concerned, our job is to keep an eye on Severus and make sure that he gets help when he needs it. He doesn’t need us to be his bloody babysitters.”

“I want to be sure that he’s alright,” said Rose. “I’m sorry if you think I’m coddling him, but at this point we can’t take any chances.” She then turned away from Draco to go back upstairs. The two of them had come in leaps and bounds from in their relationship. But while they were no longer blasting each other into dust, they still had not synced in their state of mind whenever Severus was involved. And because of this, Rose was keen to avoid unnecessary conflict for the sake of Severus and everyone around them.

But before Rose could walk away, Draco grabbed her by the arm, and he dragged her down a quieter, even emptier side corridor. Once they were out of immediate sight of any approaching bystanders, he pinned her against the wall with the heel of his hand on her shoulder, and his voice took a turn for the grim. “I’m being serious. I get it, you’re the girlfriend, and you’re stressed out right now. But you’re starting to get carried away.”

“What’s your point?” Rose asked as she glared up Draco’s face.

“You know you won’t be there when the kid is born, right?”

At first, Rose wanted to throw up when she heard that. But that feeling was quickly replaced with a hard stone of resentment that made her want to punch Draco in the gut. Of course she knew she wasn’t going to be there for the birth! For as long as she and Severus had been together, they had known that giving birth was something Severus would have to do alone. No matter how badly she wanted it, Rose would not be permitted to be at his side. But who was Draco Malfoy to remind her of that like he was? That combined with the deathly serious glare he was serving her was something worthy of Rose grinding her teeth into nothing.

But, as she reminded herself, she had to keep herself together. Though Severus had been steadfastly calm and collected since they were woken up by his contractions, she had the sense that it would not stay that way for long. Rose just had to think of how she would feel if she were in her lover’s shoes; she had been built to have babies and she would still be scared shitless. Alright, so maybe Draco had a point. However, if he was going to put her back in her place, then Rose was going to do the same to him.

Rose reached up slowly, and she slipped her fingers down the collar of her shirt, pulling up the pendent of her engraved locket for Draco to see. She also took care that her promise ring was visible and on display on her right hand. Draco wavered only slightly at her motion, but Rose knew the point had been made clear.

“I won’t be there in the room with him,” she said. “But you can bet your wand and your life that I’ll be nearby. I won’t rest until I know that he and the baby are safe and well, and I don’t care what I have to do to make sure of it.” And with that, she yanked herself out of Draco’s grasp, and she started off for the stairs again. Draco stared off at her for only a bare second before moving to follow. He wasn’t going to challenge that, no matter what his brain was screaming at him for to do. He had learned better than to encroach on a woman’s territory, warning or not.

**~HP~**

In accordance to Severus’s wishes, Rose and Draco both kept a certain amount of distance. He was right; the sight of the two of them together so casually would have been plenty enough to draw suspicion. They did however do something that the pregnant wizard would not have approved of, and that was to pull Hermione aside and inform her of the potential situation. While the Head Girl did share their concern at the thought of Severus having pains, she had also spent a little too much time immersed in every pregnancy guide she could get her hands on. She agreed with Severus that they had time, at least while the contractions were semi-regular. Although, she hinted that she would be joining Rose and Draco when classes let out to be of extra aid on route to Madam Pomfrey. In the meantime, Rose was just happy to have someone else to worry along with, instead of letting it bottle up in her stomach until she exploded. And even Draco seemed to find comfort in the support of someone who was definitely smarter than either of them at the moment.

Harry and Ron remained unaware, though they did have a certain amount of suspicion brewing as they walked across the courtyards to the dungeons, shadowed by inky clouds.

The entire Seventh year lesson was dedicated to brewing that day, in continuing preparation for the upcoming NEWT practical.  The humidity of the simmering liquids mixed with the dewy late spring, and book pages crinkled at the edges. There was also a certain itch in the air amongst the grumpy, sweaty, uncomfortable students for the good cloudburst that was heading their way. But most importantly, everyone’s attention was firmly on their cauldrons. There was no ruckus or disturbance, there was proper cooperation amongst the class, and for a few edgy teens, there was welcome distraction. For once, it felt like everything was on track.

But then it happened. As Hermione reached across her work station for her pouch of viper scales, she saw Severus grip the edge of his desk, hard! His face blanched suddenly, and dark brows furrowed over equally dark eyes. Of course, Hermione’s first instinct was to jump up and see if her professor was alright, but common sense and self-control naturally overrode that. She looked to her left, and then to her right. No else appeared to have noticed, not even Draco, who up until then had been as hawkeyed as his family’s collection of birds, but was now concentrated on his and Goyle’s brewing potion. Only feeling slightly relieved, Hermione looked back to Severus. He definitely appeared to be in some form of discomfort, though it was hard to tell what it was exactly. But whatever it was, contraction or any ordinary pregnancy ache, the Potions master managed to push himself through it rather quickly, straitening up after a few moments. He blew out a long breath, and he planted a hand at his lower back. He then carried on with his work, observing his students from behind the relative safety of his desk. Hermione sighed away her own inhibitions, and she went back to her own potion.

Eight minutes later, Hermione heard a rough, muffled gasp. Severus was braised against his desk again, but this time, his forearm was pressed across his magically concealed belly, and his breath was coming more deeply as his eyes shut tensely. In fact, it looked as though he was putting up a fight to stay silent. Again, Hermione looked worriedly around at her classmates. But then she looked to her immediate left. When she saw the dropped sprig of pine under Rose’s hand, and the abject horror in her eyes, Hermione understood instantly without question. D-day was at last upon them.

Flying by the seat of her pants, Hermione quickly reached for a spare roll of parchment she had sitting on the edge of her side of the workstation, and then for her quill. And scribbling faster than a pixie on Pepper-up, she wrote it out.

**_‘Did you see that? Don’t tell me that you didn’t see that.’_ **

She them slid the parchment over to Rose, the noise of the swiping motion attracting the other witch’s attention. Luckily, even though her mind was definitely across the room with Severus, Rose had enough sense to realize that this was Hermione’s feeble attempt at nonverbal communication. And wanting to stay quiet and unnoticed, she too willingly resorted to these petty student notes. She grabbed her own quill and scratched out, **_‘Of course I saw that! That was definitely a contraction. He had that same look in bed this morning, and they look like they’re getting worse.’_**

**_‘They are getting closer too. My watch says that was eight minutes since the last one.’_ **

**_‘He’s not going to make it to the end of classes.’_ **

**_‘So what do you think we should do?’_ **

**_‘Are you mad? We need to get him out of here and up to Madam Pomfrey.’_ **

**_‘Hold on, Rose. We can’t just drag him up there. He needs to feel that he’s ready to go. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to go up and ask him.’_ **

Rose clenched her hand into a fist, and she just resisted the urge to pound down on the table. But again, Hermione was right. Neither one of them could really walk up to Severus’s desk and talk to him without garnering some kind of attention. But this time, the panic was short-lived. Switching onto autopilot, Rose went right into Plan B. She tore off a strip of paper, and she wrote a short message for Draco, a code phrase that he and Harry had made up the week before. Balling it up in her hand, she then put her Quidditch abilities to the test and tossed it over to hit Draco in the ankle. By some miracle, he felt the feather-light impact, and he picked the ball up to read under the table.

**_‘The fawn is approaching the meadow? Need confirmation…’_ **

Draco’s pale eyes darted up to the front of the room. He saw Severus behind his desk, and he was able to deduce the situation faster than Hermione had. Then he too dived right into the preplan of attack. Stuffing the parchment into his trouser pocket, he distracted Goyle with the finely printed footnotes in their textbook, knowing that it would buy him at least ten minutes. Once the bulky buffoon had his nose in the pages, Draco slunk out from behind his cauldron, and stalked up to the front of the room with catlike dexterity. Severus was still holding his stomach when the younger Slytherin approached, his mind concentrated on his breathing. Draco leaned over the desk to get as close as he could to his Head of House, and he dropped his voice down to the softest that it could possibly go.

“Professor,” he whispered. “Are you alright?” The quiet words caught Severus’s attention, and his obsidian eyes opened to glance at Draco. The boy felt a hard shudder in his chest when he saw the pained expression staring back at him.

“No…” hissed Severus, and that was all that had to be said. Draco felt the bullet of panic hit at the realization that Severus had actually gone into labour, but he held onto control with the firmest grip he had mustered up in a long while. He knew what he had to do.

“What do you need?” he asked, deathly serious.

“Get them out. I don’t care what you have to do, just get them all out.”

Draco nodded, his determination to keep his godfather and would-be sibling safe rising to the surface. Without another word, he briskly walked back to his seat and pulled Rose’s note out of his pocket. Just as he expected, Goyle was still trying to make something out of those blasted annotations, and Draco blew out a quick little sigh. He then scratched out a barely legible return note to Rose.

**_‘Confirmed! We need to get everyone out of the room. Got any ideas?’_ **

He folded the paper up into a tiny glider, and with a whispered spell, he got it to fly over to Rose’s workstation, landing on top of her class notes. Rose quickly took it apart to read, and then she starting racking her brain. Alright, she told herself, they needed to clear the room, but how? A number of things could get a Potions practical cancelled, but not many of them would be brought about by the students themselves. But there was one option open to them; if there was an accident in the middle of class, there was a chance that they would be dismissed, depending on Severus’s mood. It didn’t happen very often, but it had proven useful in guarding Severus’s pregnancy. Rose instantly looked down at her ingredient bottles, chomping down on her lower lip to find them empty, as were Hermione’s. But then she looked over to her left, and she noticed Harry and Ron. Both were still further behind in the brewing process, and as Rose could tell, they were in just the right spot for something to go terribly wrong.

She snapped her fingers, which caught Ron’s attention first. When Harry also glanced over at her, Rose picked up an empty bottle which had once contained Essence of Ephedra, and she mimed a pouring motion over her cauldron, silently mouthing out the phrase, “The whole thing.” At first, the boys looked confused. But when Rose pointed up at the Potions master, something clicked in their heads, and Ron took hold of his own full bottle with a nod.

“Rose, what are you doing?” Hermione gasped under her breath.

“Trust me Mione, I know what I’m doing.” said Rose. She looked at Severus, and she was met by the same pain-filled eyes that unsettled Draco. Fear began to form a hard knot in her throat as she motioned for him to back away. Severus could clearly see that she was up to something, but he did as he was told. He didn’t really need to know exactly what his girlfriend’s intentions were; he just trusted that whatever she was going to do, she was doing it with everyone’s safety in mind.

When Severus was safely out of the way, Rose turned back to see that Ron already held his bottle of Ephedra near his cauldron brim, with Harry watching him carefully over his own stalled work. Briefly, the youngest Weasley brother turned back to his fellow ginger, and Rose just nodded. At that, Ron tilted the bottle and dumped all the slimy liquid into the cauldron. Almost instantly, the bubbling brew went from a cerulean blue to a very sickly yellow.

“Get down!” Rose hissed at the boys, and the two wizards hastily dove under their table. No sooner than the second they hit the floor did the potion explode in an almost volcanic fashion. The other students swore loudly as they also jumped out of the way, but not before a good chunk of them were hit by the liquid. Lucky for them, the potion was harmless in its incomplete form, but it was still scalding hot. Out of range of the blast, Severus looked around the room before his eyes landed on Rose, who was just coming up from under her desk. She obviously did not look surprised, only a little flustered by the dodge. Alright, now it was time for him to play along.

“Potter! Weasley!” he bellowed, fully falling into Rose’s impromptu plan. “What in the name of all that is magic was that?! I have seen First years with greater skill than that! And you two call yourselves wizards. Forty points from Gryffindor!” Severus took a moment to catch his breath before addressing the class. “Suspend your potions as they are and clean your work stations. After that, adjourn to the library. This class is dismissed!”

At first, it seemed that the students didn’t quite believe their professor, if the eyes darting around at each other were any indication. But they all rather quickly decided that it didn’t matter, especially when Severus gave them all a snarling glare from his place behind his desk. Everyone, including five certain individuals, halted their potions’ progress with a simple charm, and they quickly gathered their things together before crowding out in a thundering herd. They didn’t seem to notice that a few of them were slow to follow.

As soon as the last student filed out, Harry dashed over to the door and shut it firmly. But before he could open his mouth to speak, he heard Hermione’s voice up front. “Alright sir, what do you want us to do?”

“Get rid of the potions,” Severus exhaled. “I will figure out what to do about your marks later, but don’t leave them here.”

“You got it!” said Draco, and with an overly flourished wave of his wand, the unfinished potions evaporated with a great puff of smoke. He tried to ignore the slightly wounded wince Hermione gave as she watched her perfect brew vanish.

“Alright Rose,” Ron started, stepping forward. “What’s going on here? Why, why in the name of all that is magic did you have me blow up our potion _on purpose_?” Rose dropped her jaw to respond, but she was stopped when Severus grasped his stomach, hissing with pain. Rose jumped in her skin, offering her hand, and Severus grabbed hold as his brow furrowed over his closed eyes. Rose leaned in to her lover’s side muttering, “That’s it, Sev. Just breathe through it.” And right then, Ron had his answer.

“Holy fuck! You’re in labour!” he yelped, leaping back into Harry’s arms. The Head Boy wasn’t much better; his eyes were the size of dinner plates when he fully realized what was happening.

“No shit, Sherlock!” Rose snarled with contorted eyebrows. But before she could let her anxiety get the best of her, she felt the warmth of Severus’s hand on her arm, and she calmed down. The contraction slowly ebbed away, Severus giving a thankful pant. Carefully, and aided by Rose with an arm around his back, he eased down into his chair.

“Oh my god,” croaked Harry, his face paling disturbingly. “Oh my god!”

“Move Rose,” Hermione commanded. Once she was free from the Potions master’s grip, Rose jumped to the side as Hermione pointed her wand at Severus. “ _Finite Incamtatum_!” The Glamour Charm broke down and Snape’s massive belly was suddenly visible through his robes. Rose was instantly back at Severus’s side, their hands locked together in support.

“Holy shit!” Ron yammered as he paced nervously in a little circle. “Merlin’s pants! This is actually happening!”

“Tell me about it, Weasley,” said Draco, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “I’m about to be a freaking god-brother!”

“Boys, get a hold of yourselves!” said Hermione. “Everyone just needs to calm down. Now Professor, how far apart are the contractions?”

“At the most, about ten minutes,” said Severus, speaking lowly and slowly. “But they’re getting closer together. They’ve been coming like this for the last hour and a half.”

“How painful are they?”

Severus struggled to find the words that would properly describe these pains to five childless teenagers, and describe them without sending them all into a panic-fueled frenzy. “Well…they hurt,” he muttered. But Hermione was not satisfied with that answer. Wanting to get a clearer view of the situation, she held her hands up, about a foot from each other, and she asked, “On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate the cramps?”

Again, Severus took a moment to think. He could feel Rose’s growing anticipation in her grip as he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Six, possibly seven.”

“Has your water broken yet?” asked Rose.

“Eww,” Ron griped, trying to keep his disgust in a whisper, but ultimately failing when Rose overheard and growled, “Oh grow up, Ron!”

“Rose, I told you, calm down,” demanded Hermione, who then diverted her attention to her roommate’s immediate left. “I’m sorry, Professor, but has it yet?”

“No, it hasn’t,” Severus said with a slow shake of his head. “But…but I feel something, like a pressure.”

Rose swallowed hard, and Hermione pressed her lips tight against the involuntary meep that escaped her throat. With the boys frozen in place behind them, and Hermione clearly trying to give the control back, it was Rose who was left with the question. “Severus…is this it?”

Severus was quiet for a moment, slowly breathing through the remains of the waning contraction. But then he sighed and nodded. “Yes…Rose, I think this is it.”

Before either Ron or Draco had the chance to lose it completely, Hermione stepped forward again. “Alright,” she barked, again falling into the role of team captain. “Harry, you go get Professor Lupin. Ron, run up to Dumbledore’s office. Draco, go up to the hospital wing. Tell Madam Pomfrey that it’s time and that we’re bringing him up. I’ll go warn Professor McGonagall. And Rose –,”

“I’ll stay here,” said Rose, finishing the command. Ron rolled his eyes as though to say, _‘Didn’t see that coming.’_

“Yes of course, Rose. You stay here.” Hermione planted her hand on Ron’s arm, and she started to slowly push him in the direction of the dungeon door. Harry and Draco also started gravitating that way. “Remember everyone, we’ll meet back here, and no stopping for anything.” The door was unlocked again, and Ron turned the handle to open it. “Alright guys, let’s move it!”

The door creaked inward, and all common sense and rationality went out the window. The four flustered students bolted in different directions, Hermione slamming the door behind them, and their footsteps thundering up and down the dungeons. Severus and Rose sat in the resulting silence for a minute, but when Rose glanced down and saw the irresistible smirk on her boyfriend’s face, she let out a small giggle.

“Geez, it’s still early labour, no need to panic,” she said, mocking herself along with her friends. She was vaguely aware of the slight trembling in her fingers, but she did away with that with a good flexing, aided by the warmth of her lover’s body. She swallowed the lump that had made itself at home in her throat.

Severus let go of Rose’s hand and caressed his stomach. Rose leaned in closer and started rubbing his back. “You’re doing great, Sev,” she coached. “Just keep breathing like that.” Within seconds, Severus sighed with relief as he relaxed fully, the contraction finally over. He looked up at Rose invitingly, and the young witch leaned into his arms and nuzzled into his neck. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“For now,” said Severus, his voice rather quiet and aloof. “Oh Rosie…this is it.”

“I know,” murmured Rose. “You’re only a few hours away from becoming a dad.” She ran her hand over her lover’s massive middle, and Severus rested his hand atop of hers. He felt Rose’s soft lips on his cheek before he heard her whisper, “We’re going to be a family soon.”

Rose hugged Severus close, smiling gently. Knowing what was ahead of them, she hoped this would be a chance for them to bond, just to be together before their two became three. She turned her loving eyes to her sweet professor, but she was struck when he did not return the expression. What Rose saw in Severus’s coal black eyes was not anticipation, but something unsettling that had only just found its way to the surface. She saw a reflection of her own rattled emotions that she had until then failed to fully resolve. In those glassy black orbs and in that trembling chin, she saw fear.

“Oh Sev,” she sighed, raising her hand to touch Severus’s pale cheek. “What’s going on? What are you thinking?”

Severus stared into the blue depths of Rose’s eyes, hoping the comfort he valued lay there. But when he realized that the concern in her gaze only brought on guilt in him, he looked away, caressing his stomach in both hands. “Anything could happen…”

“Sev?”

“What if something goes wrong?”

Rose was almost taken aback by the question. All day long, she had been hung up on the same thought, worried for the same reason. But Severus had repeatedly been the stoic calm that brought her back down. It was him going through the pain of the contractions, him that was going to bring forth a live human child, and he was the one trying to calm her. After all of that, Rose had almost forgotten that Severus was still just a man, and he had his fears. He was about to have a baby, and he was scared. And now she could remember what she was really there for.

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” said Rose, trying to speak with some encouragement. “You and the baby are in really good hands.”

“Oh Rose, don’t give me that,” Severus objected weakly. “Think about this for a moment, will you? Childbirth is not a safe process. A whole plethora of complications could rise up in the midst of all this. As far as medicine and magic have come, people still die while trying to give birth. And I remind you that this birth is almost unprecedented. As prepared as Poppy Pomfrey is, something bad could happen that she’s not ready for, and she might not be able to handle it.”

Rose swallowed hard, but she regained her sense of purpose, and she steadied her voice with a deep breath in. “Alright Sev, just listen to me,” she said, resting both her hands on Severus’s shoulders. “All you can do is trust Madam Pomfrey and the others. They’ve all been with you these long months, and they will do anything to ensure your wellbeing. No one is going to let anything happen to you. And in the end, you’ll have a beautiful, healthy baby. Everything is going to turn out alright.” She gave him a warm smile as she caressed his face. But Severus was in disbelief, and it showed in his furrowed brow.

“Why the change of heart?” he asked his young love. “What happened to the frightened girl who refused to leave my bed, worried in my office?”

Rose smiled weakly. “She’s still here, Sev. I know exactly how you feel right now, and that scares me shitless. But I can’t let it get the best of me now. I want to be there for you. I want to do whatever I can for you.”

“I know you do, but I can’t have you there with me, and there’s nothing we can do about it. We both know that.”

“I won’t be there in the delivery room, but I’ll be close by,” Rose reassured. “I haven’t forgotten what you did when I was in hospital after the attack in the forest. You were there for me even when you couldn’t get out of bed. And you would have to be insane to think that I wouldn’t do the same now. I’ll haunt that hospital wing to such an extent, I’ll put the ghosts to shame. I promise you, Sev, I won’t leave until I know that you’re okay, and I hear a new baby crying.”

Severus looked down his body to his hugely swollen abdomen, where Rose’s fair hand was rubbing slow, comforting circles. And then he looked up into her eyes and saw that natural blue shimmer that always soothed him so. As Rose leaned in to kiss his temple, Severus’s lips eased into a true, genuine smile. “You’re not leaving until I can see you again…and you get the chance to hold our baby.”

Rose smiled brightly, her eyes glazing over. “See? That’s the spirit,” she muttered. Her arms came around into a strong hug. “I definitely can’t tell you that this will be easy, but I don’t have a doubt in my mind that we’ll all be fine in the end.”

“If I have ever heard such a blatant lie through the teeth, Miss Beckett,” Severus smirked, and Rose tittered in return. “But I do admit, you are good at it.”

“I had to learn something from my father, didn't I?” said Rose. Loosening her hold around Severus’s shoulders, she leaned down so that she was face level with the rounded bump. “You hurry up now, little one, you hear? We’re all ready for you, and Daddy can’t wait to finally meet you.”

“I think it’s Mummy who can hardly wait,” cheeked Severus, and Rose grinned. The pregnant wizard slipped his fingers underneath Rose’s chin, and he brought her up for a good, deep kiss, getting deeper as Rose’s tongue pleaded for more. He smiled to feel her soft fingertips on his face.

_“What is the meaning of this?!”_

Both Severus and Rose cried out as they pushed each other away at the sound of the shrill voice, and their heads snapped in the direction of the classroom door. In the open arch, Dumbledore was standing in the doorway with his hand on the handle and a look of utter shock on his face. Just behind him was Professor McGonagall. Any alarm that might have been there in her aged expression was thoroughly squashed by the apparent rage that had been in her voice. It was then that Rose, with horror, realized what had happened.

It was her mistake that she didn't lock the door when the others had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that I will get the next few chapters up as quickly as I can. In the meantime, please go and check out my other works because I've got loads of new stuff coming soon.


	79. Caught!

“What the devil is going on here?!” Minerva scolded as she stepped into the Potions classroom, hands poised to clench into fists. “I demand an explanation at once!”

“Minerva please,” Severus tried to say with his hands still reaching for Rose, shaking in his sudden shock. He was so stunned by the sudden appearance of his colleagues that he barely knew what could be done in this nightmare of a situation that had just taken a turn for the worse. “It’s not –,”

“Silence!” snapped the elderly witch. Her finger pointed at the pregnant man so sharply that even at a distance, she could have pierced his skull. Weakened by contractions and frightened surprise, Severus shuddered in his seat, clenching his jaw tightly. And seeing this, Rose screamed internally. She tried to take a step back towards Severus.

“Stay right there, Beckett!” yelled Minerva. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Minerva, calm yourself,” commanded Dumbledore, who had finally wedged his way into the conflict. He swept past his deputy like a great gust of wind, and he made his way over to stand beside Severus, planting himself firmly between the Potions master and his student. “Now is not the time for commotion.”

“Merlin’s beard! Albus, this is the perfect time! You can’t tell me to calm myself when we’ve just seen one of our staff with his hands on a student, and kissing no less!”

“But Professor, if you just –,”

“Shut it!” Rose stumbled back at Minerva’s command, and she cowered almost like a child. One shout and one pointed finger, and she was suddenly eleven years old again. But before the Head of House could unleash any more misplaced attacks at her, Albus raised his hands, one to silence the two women, and the other to carefully rub Severus’s upper back.

“I know what it is I saw,” he said. “And, I must say, I am astonished by how deplorable it is. But as I said before, now is not the time for this. Severus’s child is ready to be born, and we cannot all be caught up in a row when there’s a baby on the way. We can address all of this once this is over, but in the meantime, we can all do Severus a favor by keeping his environment as stress-free as possible.”

Minerva looked back to Severus, noting how he held his stomach with a hand as tense as his jolted face. There was also the worry line in his brow that reminded them that he was in pain in addition to being the hapless victim of that sudden verbal assault. That was when Minerva remembered what had brought them down here in the first place, how she had dropped everything when Hermione Granger informed her of the start of the pregnant wizard’s labour. In spite of the anger that was still burning inside of her for both professor and student, the desire to right the grievous wrong they had done, the need to comfort her colleague and friend won out.

“You’re right, Albus,” said Minerva with a sigh. “What can I do to help the situation?”

“Perhaps you should go and finish grading those essays you were telling me about, before Granger came and found us,” said Albus. “We likely still have a long wait ahead of us, and it is good to have some amount of distraction. And once classes are out for the day, you should go and find Filius and Pomona, and Remus and Cassandra if they have not yet been told. We don’t want to raise suspicions right away by having six professors suddenly vanish in the middle of the afternoon.”

“Yes, indeed,” Minerva nodded grudgingly, probably not taking well to being told to ignore not one but two major problems. But before anyone could relax fully again, she spoke up with, “But this is not the end of this. Miss Beckett, once Professor Dumbledore and I have gotten Professor Snape settled into the infirmary, I will be having a very serious talk with you. I want to know just what happened that led to that disgraceful kiss.”

Severus’s head snapped between the deputy headmistress and Rose, and his jaw clenched hard. “Minerva, don’t –,”

“Severus…my dear,” Minerva interrupted. “I think it would be wise if you kept your thoughts to yourself for now. Albus is right, you are in no condition to be questioned. And even if you were, I’m afraid it would only make me angrier with you.”

All of a sudden, the door swung back against the wall as Remus hurled himself into the room. His face was flushed from his run down from the third floor, but the heavy panting he gave was not from exertion, but from panic.

“I came as quickly as I could!” he huffed. “I dropped everything when Harry told me it was time.” He took in another breath, ready for the thousands of questions he had collected about Severus and the baby. But when he lifted his head and surveyed the scene before him, that breath stilled. He saw the obvious emotion in Severus’s deep eyes, but it was more than the pain of labour and the distress that accompanied it. Then he saw the seriousness in Albus’s old face, the tenseness in Minerva’s hands, and Rose’s quivering form in the corner. He knew it before he said it. “What’s wrong? Albus? Minerva? What happened?”

“Ah Remus, there you are,” said Dumbledore, dodging the question and slicing through the tension. “Get on his other side, make sure to support him if he stumbles. Minerva, if you could meet us in the hospital wing after the last bell, it would be lovely.”

With a reluctant nod, but not another word, McGonagall turned and slowly marched back out into the hall, sparing only a passing glance at Hermione and Harry waiting outside the door. Remus watched her go with a furrowed brow, but he didn’t get a chance to inquire further. A contraction abruptly seized Severus’s abdomen, arching him forward with a hard grunt. Remus jumped in his skin, and he was quick to offer support to his friend in the form of his open hand, which Severus actually clamped down on without hesitation. Rose too flinched at the sound, and she moved to rush to his side. But a boulder landed in her chest when she was met with the headmaster’s hand.

“No Miss Beckett,” said Dumbledore. “Stay where you are.” Remus jerked his head at the harshness in Albus’s order, as did Harry and Hermione, who were just entering.

“Albus, she just wants to help,” Remus tried to reason. “She doesn’t mean any harm.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot allow that, Remus,” explained Albus, all too grimly. “Not with these troubling circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

“Minerva and I discovered Severus in a rather compromising position with Miss Beckett. And until we can get a clearer image of what was behind it, I must keep them separated.”

Remus felt his stomach drop. What made it worse was the yelp from Hermione and Harry’s gutted gasp. None of them needed to ask the headmaster what he meant when he called it a compromising situation, because they could read it in the lines on his face, the stern voice he almost never used. And looking at the fraught shame in both Severus and Rose’s faces etched it in stone.

“Albus wait,” said Remus, his throat constricting like the muscles in Severus’s belly. “Surely there has to be some kind of explanation for this.”

“I don’t believe there is,” Albus replied. “Not unless you can give a good reason for a teacher to kiss his student in the way we just saw.”

There it was, the confirmation they had all been dreading. All the days and weeks and months of beating around bushes, covering tracks, and fabricating stories that would put the best novelist to shame. All for nothing! They all had given so much, and they tried so hard. But now there would be no more hiding and dodging and guarding, because they had been thoroughly caught.

“Professor Dumbledore, you don’t understand,” Rose finally said. She moved to stand in front of Severus’s desk, and she leaned across to touch her lover’s hand as the wave of pain passed. Albus took note of the intimate gesture, and when he looked up at the pregnant wizard, he saw for the first time just how Severus looked at Rose. The old headmaster was perplexed; how had he not noticed what had been so plainly in front of him?

“You are right, Miss Beckett, I don’t understand,” he said. “But there will be plenty of time for this later. Severus, do you think you can walk, my boy?” Severus took his hand back from Remus and pressed it to the side of his belly. With a hard breath, he nodded slowly. “Yes, I think so.”

“His contractions are eight minutes apart, if it helps,” said Hermione, evidently reminding everyone of her and Harry’s presence. Albus offered up a gentle smirk and nodded his head to the Head Girl. “Thank you Miss Granger. That is very helpful. Now come along, Severus. Let’s get you up to Poppy while we still can.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Rose, words spilling out at light speed. But Albus was quick to respond. “No Miss Beckett, you will not.”

“But –,”

“I understand your concerns for Professor Snape and his child, but we just cannot afford anymore distraction. You and your friends will wait here until someone comes to retrieve you. If at all possible, I will send a House-elf to you to keep you properly informed. Now come, let’s go.”

Rose didn’t want to let go of Severus’s hand, and Severus didn’t want to lose her touch. But the lasting cramps in his belly and the aching in his back and pelvis reminded him that he did not have any other choice. He looked at Rose longingly, speaking to her without words. This was always how it was planned. They had readied themselves for this parting. And though Albus and Minerva had added heartache they would never be able to take, it did not change the necessity. So with their heavy hearts, Rose allowed Harry to guide her by the shoulders away from the desk, and Severus started to stagger his way toward the door, flanked by Remus.

“Good luck, Professor,” said Harry, which surprised a few. But Severus had nothing left in him to retort in his usual manner, and the only answer he could give was, “Thank you, Potter.” He had hoped that Rose would defy her authority like she had done with him so many months ago, but she stood still in Harry’s grasp. Remus patted his shoulder in comfort as he helped him to the open doorway.

“It will be alright, Severus,” Rose suddenly blurted out. She paused for a second, almost like she had not meant to speak. But then she took in a deep breath. “It’ll be alright.”

Severus looked back to the distraught red-haired witch, pausing at her words, and in those round blue eyes, the unsaid ‘ _I love you’s_ lingered. He gave her a soft smile, imprinting her image into his mind, and then he left the room with Remus and Albus just behind.

When Ron and Draco finally found their way back a short time later, Rose was still pale and stunned, and Harry and Hermione were running mad with nerves. Already sure that something had happened, something bad, Draco demanded an explanation. And that was when Rose let go of a shocked, frightened tear. “They saw us,” she said with a tremble. “They saw me kissing Severus.”

**~HP~**

It was a slow, slow, painfully slow walk through the empty halls. Every eight minutes, Severus would have to stop and lean up against the nearest wall, riding out the contractions with the same deep, concentrated breaths. But it was getting harder to handle; the pains had noticeably increased in intensity since he was with Rose in the dungeons, and Severus could feel his whole body beginning to tense around his belly. He tried his best to swallow the fear sitting in his chest, but he only found himself longing for Rose’s touch to calm him down. At least Remus was there to distract him with a massaging hand on his back.

“Easy does it, Severus,” he coached as Severus grasped his bump, exhaling through his teeth. “Just keep breathing, and you’ll be alright.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Severus grumbled. “There is nothing a man can go through that could explain how this feels.”

“I know, I know it hurts. But it’ll be over soon.”

“Soon? I’ve been at this for almost twelve hours already, and I can still walk. I’m not even close to having this kid yet.”

“Oi, try to keep your voice down.” Remus spoke through his teeth, looking about the corridor. While it was unlikely that anyone would pass them by in the middle of a class period, they all still needed to keep their wits about them. Severus’s secret could not be exposed now, not with him on the verge of active labour.

“Oh don’t worry about that, Remus,” said Albus. The headmaster was hovering a short distance away, still so very calm and stately despite the nerves that sought to wear them all down. “Minerva and I have had a plan ready for a while now. Class will be extended a touch, just to give us a little extra walking time. The students could use additional lessons for their exams, and I’m sure the other professors would not mind at all. We don’t have to worry about being seen.”

“And what will you say to the staff when they come looking for an explanation?” Severus asked tensely, trying to cling to his common sense. But Albus just waved him off and replied, “All in good time, Severus. Just concentrate on the baby right now. We’re almost there.”

It was obvious to both the younger wizards that Albus was doing his best to ignore what had just happened downstairs. He had rushed down to the dungeons, expecting that he would be beginning one of the most terrifying and exciting moments of their lives, and what he found was a headmaster’s worst nightmare. He knew, as well as Remus and Severus, that there would be disciplinary action at some point. But that was later priority, in Albus’s mind and everyone else’s. They really couldn’t afford to get caught up in this scandal with the baby finally coming and Severus putting his wellbeing on the line.

Poppy was waiting at the door when they finally reached the infirmary, and she was swift to shepherd the laboring man into his lowly private ward, his birthing chamber, at the end of the hall. Severus actually had to pause when he first entered; a though had come to him suddenly after all this time. A year ago, he lay in this room, fighting to live another day. But here he was now in the same place to bring forth a new life. Even when going into active labour, Severus couldn’t help but wonder how it was always him who ended up doing the unforeseen.

Not unlike his relationship with Rose. Severus felt his stomach drop at the thought of her, wherever she was in the castle.

Poppy made Albus step out of the room before she started undressing Severus, but Remus remained to be an extra hand when needed. Together, they stripped him of his robes, piece by piece, and for once, Severus paid them no mind. He simply focused on his body, breathing evenly and holding his stomach in anticipation of the next wave of pain. His robes were replaced by a knee-length nightshirt with short sleeves, which had Severus fidgeting within minutes of pulling it over his head. He felt naked like this, especially in front of his friend and colleague. Poppy then had him lay on his back.

“Alright Severus, deep breath,” she said, showing him her gloved hand as she tugged a bed sheet over his lower body. “Let’s see how far along you are.” She tried to be gentle in her examination, but Severus’s altered body had become increasingly raw and sensitive, and his face scrunched up as her fingers entered him. Remus gripped him by the shoulder and took his hand in his own, allowing his friend to squeeze tight until Poppy rose and draped the sheet back over the rest of Severus’s legs.

“Four centimeters, dear,” she told him. “We still have a way’s to go.”

Severus just groaned. “You have got to be kidding. I’ve been having contractions since midnight. I have to be further along than that.”

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Poppy replied regretfully. “These things take time. But you are progressing well. Your contractions are eight minutes apart, and they are very regular. I know you have been in pain for a while now, but the most progress will be taking place in the next few hours. All we can do is wait.”

Severus pushed himself up to protest, but before he could get a word out, he was hit with a hard contraction. Instantly he was doubled over, and he reached for Remus’s hand again. He tried to breathe, but the pain and pressure built up more and more until he could take it no longer, and Severus let out a loud, yelling groan.

“Oh goodness,” gasped Poppy, but she recovered quickly and sat down on the edge of the bed. She had barely reached out to touch Severus when Albus suddenly burst back into the room, his beard flying in his hectic rush. He surveyed the scene before him, unsettled to see the sweat starting to form on the laboring wizard’s forehead. But the old man might have keeled over with just one look at Severus’s face. They had all seen Severus in pain, but the expression he bore now was unlike anything they had witnessed before. Albus rushed to be at Severus’s side as the panting evened out, and Severus fell back into a gasping heap.

“Oh Merlin, that was a big one, wasn’t it Severus?” the headmaster said, touching his younger colleague on his tense shoulder. Severus turned his eyes up to Albus sharply, glaring at him as he started regaining his breath. “Albus,” he muttered. “Don’t talk to me right now.” He then turned his face back up to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“How is he, Poppy?” asked Albus, choosing to rely on the Mediwitch for information.

“For now, he’s doing very well,” said Poppy, who was rubbing Severus’s huge bump in an attempt to massage away the last of the cramp. “Both father and baby’s vitals are good, and he’s started to dilate. Contractions are obviously getting stronger. Remus, what was the time on that one?” The werewolf in question looked down at his watch, not taking his hand off of Severus’s arm. “Seven and a half minutes.”

“Good, very good. They’re getting stronger and they’re getting closer together. I wouldn’t quote me on this, but I believe we should have this baby by tomorrow morning.” Severus groaned loudly at hearing that, and he pressed his hand to his stomach.

“Thank you, Poppy,” said Albus with genuine gratitude. “Now, if you don’t mind, Minerva has just arrived outside. There is something important she wishes to discuss with you.”

“Very well, Albus,” said the Mediwitch. “If anything changes, let me know immediately.” She motioned to Remus’s wrist, reminding him to keep good tabs on Severus’s contraction time, and then she quietly walked past the headmaster to the door. Only after the lock clicked did Albus take his hand from Severus’s shoulder, and he pulled the visitor’s chair to the side of the bed.

“How are you feeling, my boy?” he asked, to which Severus rolled his eyes slightly. Wasn’t it obvious how he was feeling?

“As well as I can. Just nervous…worried for the baby.”

“Oh I am sure.” The old man sat back, and he started stroking his hand down the length of his white beard. “But I’m afraid for you, given these circumstances. That was a nasty shock you had down in your classroom.”

Severus sighed with force, showing his discontent, and he sat up to hunch over his belly. “Albus please,” he began. “I know what you saw down there was bad, but please, I can’t do this.”

“I merely wish to know the truth, Severus,” Albus rebuffed. “You know as well as I do that we cannot pass judgment without due trial, and even now, you deserve that fair chance.”

“Come on, Albus,” Remus suddenly interjected. “Severus is in labour. We have enough on our hands without people quizzing him about his relationships.”

“Shut up, Remus,” Severus ground out, though it was more due to pain than panic. More hard grunts followed as he reached around his body aimlessly. “Oh god, my back is killing me! I can’t sit here.”

“Why don’t you try walking around a bit,” suggested Albus. “Let gravity help bring the baby down.”

Severus thought about that for a second before deciding that it was worth a try; he had felt mildly better when he was standing up, at least for the time being. Carefully, Remus helped his heavily pregnant friend to his feet, always staying in arm’s reach. For several minutes, Severus hobbled about the room, pacing slowly with both hands pressed to his lower back, his bump shamelessly thrust out in front. When the next contraction hit, he resorted back to his proven technique of leaning against the wall, and though he grunted loudly the whole way through, he felt no worse, if only just. Also, having Remus’s hand keeping pressure on his lower spine certainly did help. After the contraction passed, Severus returned to his methodical pacing, keeping time to the sound of his bare feet skidding across the stone floor.

“So you do not deny that you had a relationship with Rosella Beckett,” said Albus. Severus paused, running hands over the curve of his round, tight belly. But after giving it the thought, he decided ashamedly that it was not worth the fight, and he shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“And I can assume that it has gone beyond a simple kiss?”

“Yes, but not without consent. I did nothing to Rose that she did not want. Unlike Lucius Malfoy, I am not a rapist.”

“He’s not a pedophile either,” said Remus. “Rose was always of age, and –,”

“And if you keep talking, you will soon be in as much trouble as I am.” Severus glared over his shoulder at Remus for added emphasis, his frustration briefly breaking through his concentration.

“Yes, unfortunately, Severus does make an interesting point.” Albus scratched at his chin lightly, and he mused aloud. “So you also knew about this, Remus, and you kept it a secret from us?”

“Yes Albus, I did,” Remus confirmed sternly. “And I did it because it was what I had to do.”

The headmaster just shook his head slowly. “Then I am very disappointed in you, Remus. A man of your mind ought to know better. But Severus –,”

“It started back in November, she was eighteen, and not a day sooner,” said the Potions master, words spilling out almost faster than he was prepared for. In spite of his current physical condition, Severus had known that this interrogation, about Rose and his relationship with her, was coming. And frankly, he wanted to get it all over with so that he could focus on getting through his baby’s birth.

“I’m not interested in the length of the affair, Severus,” said Albus. “What I want to know is why you did it.”

Severus turned a pale face to his headmaster; his skin was damp, and his eyes were cloudy, but he was still very much there when he spoke, as clearly as ever. “Because I needed her.” Albus nodded, a glimmer of understanding in the corner of his eye, amidst all the fatherly trepidation and emotional tumult. “And why did you need her?”

Severus swallowed, holding his stomach as he felt a contraction creeping up on him. Remus came up from behind so that Severus could lean on his shoulder, and through pain and pressure, the laboring man muttered, “Because I loved her.”

**~HP~**

Back down in the Potions classroom, the panicked confusion was quickly turning into hostility. In spite of everything that had been invested in Rose and Severus’s secret, no one had really considered what would happen if they were uncovered, what they would do. All that the five young adults knew now, before they could think to do anything to rectify it, was that blame needed to be placed somewhere, on someone.

“It was your fault, Potter,” Draco snarled, jabbing his finger across the room at Harry, who snapped back with, “My fault? What did I do?”

“You were supposed to get back here with Lupin before Dumbledore did. If you hadn’t been so bloody slow –,”

“Well how was I supposed to know that Dumbledore would be on an afternoon stroll with McGonagall when Hermione found them?

“Whoa guys,” Ron interjected gruffly. “Why does it have to be our fault when it was Rose who forgot to lock the door? We wouldn’t be in this mess if she’d been thinking straight.”

Draco sneered angrily. “Oh, like she could possibly think straight with a pregnant man going into labour in front of her, Weasley.”

“Boys, will you all just shut up?!” shouted Hermione, waving her hands around and effectively silencing her male companions. She positioned herself rather protectively in front of Rose, who was leaning back against Severus’s desk. Her face was ghostly pale as she stared across the floor, still in shock over what had happened, and she had to cross her arms over her chest to stop her hands from shaking, staying firmly in her statuesque position. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is that it happened. It just happened, and now we have to find a way around it.”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, will you just stop and think for a second?” griped Harry. “There is no way around this! Rose and Severus got caught, they know we knew about it, and now we’re all fucked!”

“Oh of course, Potter, you’re only worried about yourself,” said Draco. His hands balled up into fists at his sides. “What about Severus? He’s up there giving birth, and now he’ll be out of a fucking job!”

“Oh yeah? And the fact that we’re being held captive here is nothing to worry about? And how about Rose, huh? Once Snape pops out that kid, they’ll just come back for her!”

“Harry, stop it!” Hermione scolded. “Rose doesn’t need to think about the trouble we’re in. Her boyfriend is having a baby.”

“She sure has enough time to snog the guy,” said Ron. “Even now, she couldn’t keep her sodding hands off him.”

“I was trying to comfort him,” Rose abruptly spoke up. The others looked at her, a bit surprised; she had not spoken in almost an hour, and if they had not been rowing about her, they might have forgotten she was even there. “Some of you might not believe it, but Severus was scared. I just wanted to make it better.”

“Oh, get real, Rose,” said Ron. “I hate to break it to you, but no amount of kisses and snuggles can take away labour pains.”

“I know, but –,”

“But what? Oh wait, you’re Rose Beckett, and you’re the bloody key to Snape’s bloody heart! I suppose you think you’ve discovered some ingenious way to stop contractions with a bloody – fucking – snog!”

“You prick, at least I tried!” Rose yelled harshly, and she thrust herself suddenly from the edge of the desk. Being rather close by, Draco was forced to block her path before she could make an attempt on Ron’s person, if her white knuckles were any indication. The ginger wizard just huffed angrily. “Yeah, and it was your trying that landed us all here.”

“Ron!” snapped Hermione, whirling around to glare at her boyfriend. “How could you say something like that?! And why must you be so insensitive to this?”

“Don’t start with me, Hermione,” Ron replied tensely. “You think I don’t know what’s going on up there? We all knew that baby was coming, we knew there was only one way for that to happen, and I am freaking out!”

“You’re freaking out? What about all of us, huh? And that’s not to mention how Rose feels right now. It’s none of our lovers going through this.”

“Yes Hermione, you’ve made that point very clear.” Ron turned his face away from the fuming witch, thus taking Rose out of his line of sight. He couldn’t look at her anymore without his anger and fear building. “But I say again, it wasn’t us who left the door unlocked.”

“You think I wanted this?” Now Rose was snarling viciously, and the others were unnerved by the sudden shift in demeanor. “You think I wanted them to walk in on us? You think I wanted to upset Severus, _now of all times?!_ Yes, it was my mistake, but don’t you dare accuse me of something so mental.”

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

“No, you’re not,” said Rose. She shook her head slowly before turning to stare at the closed door. “Put yourself in my place, and then tell me that you’re sorry.”

“We know you’re scared, Rose,” Hermione told her with a gentle hand. “But you can’t give into it like this. You said it yourself that it will be okay.”

“It’s because it’s too easy to say,” Rose replied grimly. “You didn’t see his face before. That wasn’t my Severus, guys. I didn’t know what else to say to him when we all know what could happen to him. Oh god, who knows what’s happening to him up there!” She pressed the back of her hand to her trembling lips, her breath hitching through her nose as she tried to hold back the tears.

“He’s going to be alright, Rose,” said Harry. “Severus is a tough old bat, and he’s fought all the way through this pregnancy. He’ll make it through this too.”

“Harry, you still don’t get it,” said Rose. “This isn’t like all those other times. This isn’t like anything we’ve gone through.”

“She’s right,” Draco agreed. “None of us know what childbirth is really like, and that’s without the oddity of a pregnant wizard. We have no idea what Severus is feeling right now. And even if he was a woman, it would still be risky. He could die!”

“Don’t say that!”

“Yeah guys, shut up!” Hermione scolded. “We don’t need to be told how dangerous this is for Severus and the baby, but we can’t go planting seeds of fear when we don’t need to. We’re all afraid enough as it is.”

“Hermione, you’re missing the point,” said Ron. “It’s not that it’s happening that makes this bad. It’s not even the fact that all of us are going down with Snape that makes it bad. It’s that from now on, no matter what any of us think, there is nothing we can do. We can’t do anything to help ourselves. And Rose, she can cry all she wants, but she can’t save Snape from who the hell knows what. It’s out of her hands.”

Without so much as an intake of breath, Hermione whirled back around and started to yell at Ron, dressing him down a million times over for saying something so despicable. Draco also fired back in a flood of insults, mostly over the carelessness of tossing Severus to the wayside. But for Rose, it was all just a blur. The words faded into muffled tones around her, and in an argument that should have been hers alone, she was paralyzed.

It was out of her hands. Severus was in danger, and she couldn’t save him. For weeks, she had made herself believe that her love for him would be enough to get them both through. But she could not control fate; no act of magic would allow it. There was nothing that she in her capability could do to prevent Severus and his unborn baby from being harmed, especially at the distance they now stood.

And even if she were there, just as she had been the last time she faced this horror, she would be just as powerless.

**_~Flashback~_ **

_Rose did not know how they ended up in the dungeons in the chaos of the battle. But all she cared about now was getting out._

_Screams and cries of terror echoed all around, and the blasts of not so distant explosions shook the stone to its core. Rose could feel the heat and dust rushing by her face as she sprinted through the crumbling Hogwarts halls. The world was coming down around her, and they were all trapped in the destruction. The very confines of Hell were closing in around them as Wizarding’s youth fought for their lives._

_Dante was running ahead of her, puffing for breath. Both clutched their wands in their hands, and fresh blood stains covered their clothes. They ran through the dark dungeon halls with lightning speed, gripped with fear that they would be crushed under the collapsing ceiling before they could escape. They knew what would be waiting for them at the top of the steps, but they would have to get past that if they wanted to escape._

_They came to a screeching halt when they came face to face with a solid wall. A hall stretched out on either side, and they looked frantically in both directions. An explosion over their heads sent dust and shrapnel raining down. Dante shielded Rose from the falling debris. “This way, come on!” he rasped, and they took off to the right._

_It was near the outskirts of that winding labyrinth where they saw the first bodies. Clad in black, they lay sprawled out on the ground. Their faces were frozen in their last expressions, forever locked in the anger they held for their enemy. But just a short ways away laid the body of what was obviously a young Auror, his wand still resting in his hand. Fear exploded in Rose’s chest, but Dante was pulling her along to get out of the dungeons, and they left the fresh corpses behind._

_Farther and farther they ran, hearing the noise and commotion drawing nearer with every step they took. Terror was building up to rib-cracking levels, but they did not stop and turn. When they approached the staircase and heard the cries echoing down from above, there was barely a moment to think. Rose and Dante glanced at each other, taking courage from each other before dashing up the stone steps. Dante led the way, shielding them both from falling debris, and the tip of his wand was the first to breech the surface of the caving-in sublevels._

_“_ Confringo! _”_

_The curse hit the top of the archway just as they stepped beneath it, sending a huge chunk of masonry barreling down toward them. Dante looked up, not bothering to see where the spell had come from. “_ Reducto! _” he shouted, and the falling stone burst into ash. Only then did they see the black forms drawing near. “Run Rose!!”_

_Acting on first instinct, Rose sprinted away from the action, firing off a few aimless hexes as she ran for the nearby halls. Some loud, aggravated grunts told her that Dante was right behind her. He pushed her further onward to avoid another blast headed their way._

_She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know how they could possibly escape. But all Rose could think to do was run. Outside the window, the sky lit up, and Dante grabbed her arm; the front door and entrance hall were under attack. They turned and ran the other way, ducking behind a corner._

_“We need to get to the forest!” Dante gasped. “We can Apparate from there!”_

_“But where will we go?” asked Rose, on the verge of tears as she gripped the walls._

_“I don’t know, but we’ve got to get out of here.”_

_“They’re everywhere, Dante!”_

_“We’ll get out!” Dante bit out, and he moved to shove Rose ahead. “Go!” A wayward blast crashed overhead, and Dante threw his arm around Rose’s head to shield her. When the dust settled, he thrust her forward, turning his wand onto the oncoming threat._

_Rose tried to run, but she had not gotten far before she had to look back. She couldn’t go forth without knowing he was behind her. Every flash of light could have been flying at him, every impact could have been his. She thought she heard him call her name, she turned her head back, and then she suddenly hit the wall with the force of some unseen bomb. It took only a few seconds to realize she had been grazed by a Stunning Spell._

_She saw them before she could shake off the confusion and pain. Dirty, snarling vagabonds, two of them, led by a thundering shadow in an iron mask. But she did not have her bearings, and her wand was barely in her grasp. Rose cried out; in mind and body, she was trapped._

_An animalistic growl, a pointed wand, and a great burst of light._

_There was a massive crash upon the air, and suddenly Dante was right in front of Rose. Her eyes blown wide, she watched as he turned on their attackers and took the spell head-on, and with a powerful forward jab of his own, the magical bolt exploded around them. Rose was struck with awe to see her daring love fight with the masked Death Eater, their spells meeting and burning between them._

_“Run Rose!” Dante screamed, struggling to hold off the flaming curse. “Get out of here!” He was suddenly hit with a Stinging Jinx from the side, which was enough of a distraction for him to drop the shield he had built up. He then moved to crouch down in front of Rose to block her, but Rose had seen the one who had struck Dante. A red bolt exploded out of her wand, missing its mark. Dante pushed her back before throwing himself forward into a three-way duel with the Death Eater and his mate. Rose’s eyes darted around, panicked, but then she saw the third wizard coming back, poising to strike again._

_She stunned him, but he shook it off, and he tried to stun her back. It hit the stone behind her head. “Rose, listen!!” shrieked Dante. “Just GO!!”_

_“Not without you!” Rose cried, and suddenly, the world was a red blur. Lost in her rage and fear, she blasted the enemy wizard into the crumbling wall. He flailed his wand wildly, and Rose felt a hex slice through her sleeve and the skin underneath. She felt the warmth of her blood, and Dante roared, but she did not stop. The ugly wizard hurled massive stones at her, and Dante whipped around to secure him to the wall. And Rose then stunned the bastard so hard, she could almost feel it herself. Satisfied, she turned to fight alongside Dante, and together, they buried the second scoundrel in stone and shrapnel._

_Finally, Rose reached out to grab hold of Dante’s hand, ready to run. But there, coming at her at high speed, she saw the green flair. Time slowed to a stop and Rose, choked on her own breath, felt the coldness in her chest._

_“NO!!!”_

_Rose could barely scream as Dante threw himself into her path, his hand crashing into her breast, propelling her back. But all she could hear was Dante’s voice cutting through the air to pierce Rose’s frozen heart, and his black silhouette was consumed in the emerald light as it flashed across the witch’s eyes. They hit the ground together to the sound of a distant boom._

_Then suddenly, the Death Eater was gone, to where Rose would never know. Briefly, she was paralyzed on the stone. Her hands scrapped across the floor as she pushed herself up, and they burned. She looked to her brave friend. He lay motionless some five feet away. Rose gasped for breath, crawling like a struggling babe, and when she reached Dante’s side, she gripped his torn sleeve._

_He was still. He was silent. His body was still warm, but there was not a tremor left in his hand. His face was lax, and his bright blue eyes were wide. But Rose could not see the light, the light she so loved. Her fingers clamped around Dante’s arm, and she shook him. But there was nothing, no reaction. She shook harder, and her gasps hardened with it. Still there was nothing, and Rose gaped in horror, despair, and disbelief. He was gone._

_Her heart had stopped. She had no breath. Her face fell to Dante’s solid chest, shutting herself out from the exploding world around her, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. The flood crashed over her, and Rose could not stop its ultimate release. The tears flowed, her screams echoed all around, all begging for him to come back. She cried his name, and she cried to the heavens for mercy. She just couldn’t believe that he was dead._

_How could he? How could he have left her alone when he swore he wouldn’t? And how could he have thrown her down to watch him go?_

**_~End Flashback~_ **

Feeling the sick inching up her throat, Rose had to brace herself against Severus’s desk to stay upright. Through everything that she had endured, she still remembered every bit of the pain of losing Dante. It was almost amazing; she still keenly felt the helplessness of the aftermath, the feeling of total destruction in her soul. But even with that, none of it compared to now, to this unbelievable fear eating away at her heart to overwhelm it.

Dante knew what he was doing in that fight. He made his choices, and he accepted every one of them. He really must have known that he would die that morning to do the things he did for her. But this was something completely different. Severus didn’t have a say in his labour. He didn’t know how his body would react to birthing this baby, and he couldn’t control it any more than she could. And if something were to go wrong…

No, Rose thought despairingly. No, it couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t just stay put and wait for it to happen. And damn them all if they thought that she actually would. Rose made a promise to Severus. She told him that it would be alright. She didn’t know what she could do, but she needed to do something. After all, if she had done something, anything at all, in that split second it took for the Killing Curse to fall, Dante might have still been alive. Standing in her laboring lover’s classroom, Rose could feel her connection with Severus pulsing through her like blood. She could almost hear the silent pleas calling to her. She couldn’t sit idle and fret for a minute longer.

Rose abruptly pushed herself away from the desk, propelling her body toward the door and catching her arguing friends’ attention. “Rose, where are you going?” Hermione asked hurriedly.

“I’ve got to get up there!” said Rose, already hastening to a jog.

“Up there?” Harry muttered, a bit dumbly. “You mean the hospital wing? But Dumbledore said –,”

“To hell with Dumbledore! Severus needs me!”

Hermione stood there with her mouth hanging open for about half a second, shocked that Rose would speak of the headmaster like that, but her recovery was astoundingly quick, and she rushed to grab her friend by the wrist. “Rose, wait a second,” she said, racing to find the words. “I know you want to be with Severus, but you can’t just barge in there and demand to see him. They won’t let you in.”

“Do you really think I care?” Rose snapped back at Hermione. “Do you think that makes a difference? I made a promise to Severus. I promised him that I would be there for him no matter what happened. And damn me and all the Wizarding world if I’m going to let anyone stop me.”

“But they’ll just keep you there then,” said Harry. “McGonagall will lock you in Madam Pomfrey’s office and question you all night. By the time you see Snape, not only will it all be over, but you could also be signing your own expulsion order!”

“At least I would be nearby,” said Rose, and Draco almost did a double take at that. He said, “Rose, that’s mental! Letting yourself be interrogated won’t help Severus. That won’t solve anything!”

“I just need him to know I’m there. He needs to know that I haven’t abandoned him. If that helps him even in the slightest, I’ll be content.”

“Rose, come on,” Ron tried to say. His demeanor was still serious, but clearly he was trying to think more rationally so as not to upset anyone further. “Even if you were allowed in, there wouldn’t be much you could do. You’re not a Mediwitch, you’re not a midwife, you haven’t even had a baby of your own yet. And being the loving girlfriend can only do so much.”

Rose was silent for a moment, staring Ron down as she processed his words. Over their heads, thunder rumbled through the sky, and the long anticipated rain finally began to fall onto the thick glass windows of the dungeon classroom. For a moment, no one was sure of what would happen next. But then Rose let out a sharp exhale, blinking slowly as she shook her head. She looked back up at Ron.

“If Hermione was in trouble, wouldn’t you want to do everything you could to help her? Wouldn’t you want to take away her pain? And Harry, wouldn’t you want to do the same for Ginny, for anyone you loved? Look guys, I’ve been through way too much with Severus to just wait here. I was there all through this pregnancy. I was there for him when no one else could. And that’s not Severus’s child he’s having, it’s our child. _Ours!_ I already lost one love. I won’t allow myself to sit back and wait for it to happen again. I won’t let it happen again. I don’t care what I have to do.”

And with that, Rose tore her wrist out of Hermione’s grasp, and the others watched as she threw the classroom door open and took off running down the dungeon hall. Half a minute passed like a pause in time, and then Hermione sprinted off after her, followed by Ron, and then by Harry. Draco just barely made sure the door slammed shut behind him before he too ran after the racing Gryffindors.

**~HP~**

Back up in the hospital wing, Severus was braced up against the windowsill, pressing his sweaty forehead against the stone. He groaned through tightly clenched teeth, gripping his stomach as he tried to wait out the latest contraction. But the pain had grown significantly over the past several minutes, and now it was getting hard to stay in control of his surroundings.  

“Bloody fuck!” he growled. Beneath him, his legs were beginning to buckle under the pressure of the contractions, but Severus refused to give into the pain and sit. He had only been seriously laboring for just short of two hours; he couldn’t yield to his body’s weakness yet. But god, this hurt!

“Easy Severus,” Remus coached from behind, where he was dutifully massaging his friend’s shoulders in an attempt to release some of the tension. “Don’t forget your breathing. In through your nose, and out your mouth. That’s it, mate.” To Severus, breathing wasn’t helping that much anymore, but the mantra of it was enough concentration to ride out the wave. The contraction passed, and Severus crumpled against the wall, panting heavily. He turned his head up to gaze at the black sky, and the heavy raindrops now pounding down against the window.

“You’re doing great, Severus,” said Remus. “Really great.”

“So you say,” muttered Severus. He still gripped at his stomach possessively, just waiting for the next pain to hit in six minutes. “That’s what they always say.”

“No Severus, I mean it. You’re handling this much better than the women I’ve seen give birth over the years…even if that is only two. Albus was even telling Minerva that you would put a lot of mothers to shame. You’re facing labour like a champion.”

“Then why don’t I feel like it?” Slowly, Severus turned around to lean his back against the wall. Over the sound of his own breath, he could hear the muffled noise of his colleagues voices out in the main wing. But as much as he tried to use the intonating sound to his advantage – or better, ignore it – the heavy weight of reality prevented him from drifting too far into his mind.

“I’m so sorry that it had to turn out like this, Severus,” Remus said earnestly. “This isn’t at all what any of us wanted for the day of your baby’s birth.”

“It isn’t as though you had any control over it,” grumbled Severus, his eyes trailing over to the distant door. “They’re talking about me, Albus and the others.” He noticed how Remus winced at the words. “I know you know, Remus. You had to have overheard when you went to fetch the water and ice. What are they saying?”

“Oh Severus, don’t even think about it,” said Remus. “I mean, everyone is upset, but all of it can be dealt with later. Let Albus deal with the others. All of you need to do is focus on your baby. Your baby is coming, Severus! You’re going to be a dad!”

Severus was struck silent by that realization. In amidst the horror of being torn away from Rose in such a vulnerable state, and the fear that he might never see her again, he had almost forgotten the reason for all this pain, a thought as awe-inspiring as it was frightening and overwhelming. He was having a baby. Through everything that had happened, he was back to where he was seven months ago, crippled with dread and unsure of his future. But even if Rose’s place in his life was endangered, there was still someone he had to live for, a child that would only have him to depend on. And it was cruel that all those months of waiting and pondering had to come down to these last few, very painful moments.

“Remus,” he gasped, and the werewolf quickly moved forward with an open hand. Severus grabbed hold of his wrist, squeezing hard as his other hand lay over his stomach. “I’m not ready for this.”

“What are you talking about, Severus? Of course you’re ready. We’ve all helped you prepare for this day, and Poppy is ready for anything that could happen.”

“No, I mean I’m not ready to be a father.” Severus turned his head to look into his friend’s deep, worried amber eyes. “I can’t do this, Remus. I can’t bring forth this child and raise it on my own.”

“But you won’t be on your own,” Remus tried to persuade him. “You’ll have help from me, from Albus, from –,”

“Remus, I don’t know if I can do it without her. All this time, I was counting on Rose to be there for me. She was the one who would help me raise this baby. I could do so many things wrong, but she said it wouldn’t have mattered. How can I have this baby without its mother there?”

Remus felt his heart sink; he always knew that Rose would play a special part in Severus’s new family, but it ached to hear her referred to in such a way. Right then, Severus’s love for Rose could not have been clearer, and Remus felt sick at the thought of what would eventually happen to them. But now was not the time for this. Powerful though his love story was, Severus had an even greater journey ahead of him, anxious to begin.

“Do you remember what I said to you the day you told me you had been raped?” he asked Severus, and he received an answer in the form of a long stare. “I said that it didn’t matter who you were or what you had gone through, because it doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter who ends up involved, only that this baby has you. You told me that you wanted your child to have a good life. You still want that, right?”

“Yes,” said Severus, his face tensing as he felt another contraction coming on. Remus sensed this too, but continued, “Then let it begin right now, and I’m sure that Rose would agree with me. You are ready, Severus. You’ve been ready for weeks, and now you have got to stay strong for your child. And I promise, Rose will get to see this child. You just have to stay strong until then.”

The contraction peaked, and Severus cried out, suddenly falling forward. A quick movement and an arm around the shoulders kept the laboring wizard upright, and Remus allowed Severus to lean heavily on his upper body. “Breathe, Severus,” he reminded. “Breathe through the pain. Whoo, whoo!”

“Whoo…whoo…” Severus breathed deeply in an attempt to mimic Remus, gripping at the other man’s shirt. It seemed to work initially, and the two fell into a steady rhythm. But just when Remus was about to gently undo the vice of Severus’s white fingers and help him back to the window, Severus suddenly jerked downwards with a harsh shout. Remus looked down and was met with abject horror in the Potions master’s eyes.

“Severus, what is it? What happened?”

Severus swallowed hard, and his normally deep voice actually cracked as he said, “Ah, Remus…I think my water just broke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know I'm getting ridiculous with the cliffhangers. But believe me, if I didn't do it, we would be in for a much longer, more burdensome read. Besides, in all the years I've been writing and rewriting this story, these chapters have always been structured the same way with no room for change, with the exception of the last Dante flashback. I hope no one minds my twisted logic.
> 
> This was the last chapter that I've had pre-written and set aside before posting, which means I have absolutely no idea when the next update will come. Be sure to check out my other works in the mean time, including a new Hobbit mpreg that I hope will be ready soon. Please leave kudos and comments, and maybe I can get a move on with everything!


	80. A Promise Kept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know that this update is massively overdue, and I am so sorry that had to happen to those of you waiting to see how everything turned out. But I really hope that this chapter makes up for it.

The situation was getting worse by the minute, or at least that was what everyone was beginning to think. As soon as Remus looked down and saw the clear liquid pooling at Severus’s feet, he gently guided the distraught wizard back over to the bed. But Severus looked as though it wasn’t a moment too soon. He had barely gotten settled when the next contraction struck with more strength than any by far, and Severus gave a great shout. If the pain was bad before, it was nearly unbearable now, and all in a matter of minutes! Severus arched his body around his hardened, aching middle, and he grabbed at Remus’s hands with a breathy whimper.

Albus came rushing back in at the sound, with Poppy just behind him. Together, they helped ease Severus onto his side so that he could try to get somewhat comfortable, and only then did Poppy begin preparing to check his dilation again. Unfortunately, there had been no change, and Severus remained at four centimeters. Remus caught a glimpse of her face out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t see very much comfort in the Mediwitch’s expression. And an exchanged glance with Albus confirmed that everything was about to get a whole lot scarier for everyone. It was crucial now that they all stay calm for Severus’s sake, but Remus could sense that it was already too late for that.  

All Severus could do was lay there on the bed, holding himself as his insides contorted around the baby, slowly losing himself to the panic building up in his chest.

**~HP~**

“Oh gods, this is terrible,” said Cassandra as they listened to another one of Severus’s distressed cries. She, Filius, and Pomona had arrived at the hospital wing a short time ago, and though they all knew what they were walking into, none were really prepared to hear a wizard laboring behind closed doors. “Poor Severus just doesn’t need this after all he’s been through. Is there nothing we can do, Minerva? Can’t we give him something to ease the pain?”

“I’m afraid not, Cassandra,” Minerva muttered as she paced the open floor of the infirmary, chewing on the tips of her nails. “Unfortunately, Severus’s history has complicated matters. Most of the pain potions we have on hand no longer have an effect on him.”

“That’s right,” Pomona agreed from her place on one of the visitors’ chairs. “Poppy and I tried to find a solution, but we would just be reducing those contractions to a strong menstrual cramp. And anything stronger would almost certainly harm the baby. Severus has to do this the old-fashioned way.”

Twisting her fingers in her lap, Cassandra just shook her head. “It’s simply not fair. I mean, Poppy says he’s not even halfway through yet, and I can barely listen to him.”

“That’s just the way it is, Cassie. Unnatural though it is for Severus, it’s still part of having a baby.” Pomona turned her face away, and she gave a heavy sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest. “The poor sod. I can’t imagine that all that stress is doing him any good. But he brought it on himself.”

Minerva felt her stomach turn when she heard that, though it really should have been expected. As protocol dictated, she had informed her three colleagues of the apparent affair between Severus and Rose Beckett. Despite their mutual concern, it had been difficult to ignore that disastrous surprise. They were all rather appalled, very appalled actually, and each one of them could barely comprehend how Severus could do something so despicable. But this was certainly not the time for angry rants and questions (or neck-wringing in some cases.) Minerva had simply hoped that everyone would keep their thoughts to themselves until Severus had safely delivered.

“Pomona, can’t we just leave that alone, please?!” Cassandra snapped with a high, tense voice.

“Well, we cannot exactly pretend like nothing happened,” said Filius.  “This is serious business. Poor Severus might be in labour in there, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior any more than if it had been Miss Beckett having his baby.”

“She better not be, if they know what’s good for them,” Pomona added with a half-scoff. “Oh bloody hell, Minerva, what are we going to do about this? We weren’t trained to deal with this sort of scandal.”

“I don’t know, Pomona. I don’t have time to worry about this,” Minerva chided sharply. Already, she was fed up with people looking to her for the solution. Truthfully, she was as confused and distraught as the rest of her colleagues, and yet they were expecting her to be judge, jury, and executioner. But she didn’t have it in her now, not as she cringed at hearing the agonized shouts coming from the next room.  Actually, if she had stronger nerves, she would be in there with Albus and Poppy. As angry as she was with Severus, she still cared for him deeply, and she just wasn’t ready to see him in such pain.

“The girl will have to be disciplined,” said Filius. “Agh, that’s such a shame. Beckett was always one of the sensible ones. Where did it go wrong with her?”

“Well obviously, something must have gotten to her,” shrugged Pomona. “Not least of all Severus. You’re right though, Filius, such a damn shame. And so close to her final exams too.”

On the other side of the room, Cassandra gnawed on her lower lip with glossy eyes. She had been more than shocked at the idea of Severus having sexual relations with a student, but she was downright sick when she heard that it had been with Rose. For eight months, she had bonded with the girl, and she got to know her on such an intimate level. She knew her joys and sorrow, watching an unassuming young woman’s happiness grow with each passing day. She had such a bright future before her, but that future was now in peril, and there was nothing Cassandra could do to save her. Rose was guilty, there was no doubt, and it was that truth that really broke Cassandra’s heart. The woman who had a positive word for almost anything in all the world had been rendered speechless.

“Miss Beckett shall be dealt with when the time comes,” said Minerva. “As will Severus. But Albus and I couldn’t possibly make any decisions now if we wanted to. We still don’t have all the details yet.” She chose not to tell them that they did actually have more information, brought by Albus from Severus himself. But Minerva was not convinced, even after attempting to digest the words herself. As satisfied as Albus was with Severus’s unexpected confession, the fact that it was said in the middle of childbirth made it less than credible. As far as they were concerned, it would still be quite some time before they could get to the bottom of Severus’s motives.

A big clap of thunder crashed outside the windows, and Minerva continued to pace before the birthing room door, listening to Filius and Pomona quietly discuss how the students and the school would be maintained over the next several hours. She hadn’t been paying particular attention to the time as it passed by, until the sound of Severus’s pained voice broke her concentration. Her stomach twisted, and she decided that she just couldn’t wait there any longer. She quickly flew over to the closed door, and taking full advantage of the permission she had from Poppy, she let herself into the room after a very short knock.

Severus’s face was contorted around his eyes, and he was panting so hard that he practically cried out with every exhale. Already, there was a layer of sweat pooling on his brow and temples. He also had Remus’s hand in an iron grasp, the werewolf clenching his jaw slightly at the strength. Minerva was instantly taken by the sight, and all the motherly compassion she held for Severus came rushing to the surface.

“Oh Minerva,” said Albus, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. But Minerva just ignored their brief, corner-eye stares. She just strode over to the side of the bed, and she leaned over to look at Severus, carefully brushing his fraying black hair out of his face.

“Hello Severus,” she said to the laboring wizard. Her voice, her colleagues noted, had softened, with no sign of the mixed feelings toward him. “How are you feeling?”

Severus glared up in the old woman’s direction, his onyx eyes clouded with pain. “How do I look, Minerva?” he croaked before immediately returning his concentration back to the waning contraction. He puffed hard for much needed breath, fighting the urge to curl around his stomach. In an attempt at comfort, Minerva laid her hand on the round bump, only to find it almost as hard as a rock, and her heart broke for her former student. Clearly, Severus was under some tremendous strain. The contraction passed, allowing muscles to relax under Minerva’s touch, and Severus wilted back into the mattress.

“Oh Severus, you poor dear,” Minerva crooned, stroking the Potions master’s face with her long fingers. She herself had never borne a child, but she still felt every bit of anguish going on inside Severus’s body, and now she was beginning to feel the guilt of being so angry at him mere hours ago.

“It hurts, Minerva,” whispered Severus, holding his belly with one hand while cradling his head with the other. “No one said it would hurt this much.”

“You’re doing really well, Severus,” said Remus, who was massaging Severus’s shoulder from behind. “Just keep breathing, and you’ll be okay.”

“Quite right,” Albus agreed. To Minerva, those words were both empty and sincere at the same time, and judging by the look on his face, Severus knew it too. But in spite of it, the deputy headmistress softly muttered, “It won’t be long now, dear.” She suddenly noticed Poppy was eyeing her from across the room. When the Mediwitch moved toward the sink, Minerva took the silent cue to follow, and when the two women met at the basin, Poppy pushed a stack of clean cloths toward Minerva, bidding her to begin wetting them under the cool water tap.

“It’s difficult to watch, isn’t it?” said Poppy, using her wand to conjure up little chunks of ice to smash into chips for Severus to suck on. Minerva nodded grimly. “Yes…oh Poppy, I know there’s nothing we can do, but after all these years, it’s like watching one of your own children going through this.”

“Indeed. I had a feeling that the three of us would end up feeling like this, you, Albus, and I. As uncomfortable as Severus is, however, he is doing well. His dilation is slow, but it is steady. But I do agree with you, Minerva. The sooner this baby comes, the better.”

Minerva nodded again briefly, but she stopped when a thought came to her. “Actually, I’m not sure I’m ready for that to happen,” she uttered. “Severus will finally be a father, but his title as professor will still be in question.”

Poppy sighed through her teeth. “Minerva, how could you even think about sacking Severus when he’ll have a newborn baby? I mean, I’m not saying I support what he did to Rose Beckett, but even you wouldn’t be so cruel.”

“He did it _with_ Rose Beckett,” Minerva corrected. “And I don’t know if I have much choice. What would you do if you were in my position?” Poppy – a woman of mercy and healing, but with a grave understanding of right and wrong – had no response.

Minerva was about to turn to walk back to the bed with the wet washcloths when there was a sudden noise. It was a low rumbling, like the thunder outside, but it was constant, and it definitely wasn’t above their heads. Then the rumbling became a fast thudding, like horses charging across a field. Puzzled, Minerva handed the cloths to Poppy, and she marched out into the open infirmary. The other professors looked equally confused, though Filius apparently had a sense of where the noise was heading. He dashed over to the double doors at the hall’s head, and he pulled them open, with barely a second to spare, as Rose came sprinting into the wing, her red hair blowing and her pale face flushed.

Not a moment later, Hermione flew in, her hands reaching out towards her roommate. And just behind her, in ran Harry and Ron. Filius was about to shut the door when Draco brought up the rear, running into the corner and handle in the process. The five students thundered down the hall, their footsteps falling hard and heavy, and Rose had her sights on the open birthing room. But before she could crash into the door, she was grabbed, by Pomona on one side, and Cassandra on the other. And there, the stampede came to an end, Rose thrashing to get out of the older women’s grasp.  

“Miss Beckett, of all things you had to do, now of all times, you had to disobey a direct order.” Minerva shook her head as she carefully backed into the birth room doorway, creating a barrier with her body. Rose by then had managed to get one arm free, and she flailed it about desperately. “Let go of me! Please!” she yelled. In an attempt to gain control, Pomona barked, “Settled down, Beckett! It’s no use putting up a fight now. It’ll only earn you more trouble.” But that warning fell on a very deaf ear.

“Severus!” Rose cried out to the open door. “Severus, I’m here!”

On the other side of the threshold, Severus’s eyes snapped open, staring off into oblivion as the realization rose up. He lifted his head, looking toward Rose’s voice, searching for her. But Albus and Remus exchanged a look, and the headmaster rose from his seat, patting Severus on the shoulder before leaving the room.

“What is going on here?” he asked, taking in the sight of his five pupils. Seeing how his colleagues had ahold of Rose, he turned and shut the door to Severus’s room. The young witch instantly and visibly wilted. “If memory serves me right, I told the five of you wait downstairs.”

“I need to be here,” rasped Rose. Now that Dumbledore was present, she now tried to regain some sense of composure if she wanted a chance at explaining herself. “Severus needs me.”

“Alright, that is enough!” Minerva yelled. Finally, she couldn’t take anymore confrontation related to Severus’s involvement with the young Miss Beckett, and the last straw was the very evidence presenting itself to them there. She could withhold her ire towards Severus for the time being, but there was no stopping the rage that could only be awakened by Rose. Minerva knew that it was about to get out of hand, and she knew that there were too many involved. Her first order of business was to maintain control.

“Filius, Pomona, Cassandra, would you leave us? Albus and I need some time to question these students. Pomona, I am leaving the management of the school to you for the time being.”

“Of course,” said Pomona with a nod. “Just send us some word every now and then. Do give our best to Severus.” She tapped Cassandra’s arm just so she let go of Rose, and she went over to where Filius waited for them. “Cassie, come on girl,” he spoke up.

Rose tilted her head to her Muggle Studies professor, looking to her surrogate mother for any kind of help. But there were only tears in those doe brown eyes, and Cassandra backed away, so reluctant to go, but consumed in her disappointment. She simply said, “I’m sorry, Rose.” And with that, they were gone, and Rose had lost a defender.

“Professor Dumbledore, please,” Harry said over the echo of the shutting hospital doors. “Rose doesn’t mean any harm. And none of us ever wanted trouble.”

“I believe you, Harry,” said Albus. “But whether we want it or not, trouble often finds us.”

“Uh…Professor,” said Ron, a little put off by the grim whimsy in those words. “Is this really the time for life advice?”

“Silence, Weasley,” snapped Minerva. “Don’t think I have forgotten about the rest of you and your part in all this mess.”

“Leave them out of this!” Rose suddenly yelped angrily. “I never intended for them to find out about me and Severus. The only reason why they didn’t tell was because I made them swear.”

“But still they followed you here,” Albus mused aloud.

“Because she’s our friend,” said Hermione, and Draco followed up surprisingly with, “And we care about Severus.” The headmaster nodded his head, folding his hands over his snow white beard. “Of that I’m sure,” he said. “And I’m sure that Rose has ample reason for disobeying my orders. What say you, Rose?”

“Severus needs me,” the red-haired witch repeated. “I made a promise to him, Professor. I promised him that I would be here for him.”

“Even if you knew that would be impossible,” said Minerva. Albus glanced at her from the side; his colleague’s words were not malicious, but there was an undertone of unsettlement in her voice that said to him that there was growing tension in Minerva’s chest, and they were dangerously close to coming to a head. But whether this mattered to Rose or not was irrelevant when Albus saw the determination in Rose’s eyes. Without a word from anyone, he knew that this girl had her mind set.

“But he knows I’m here, doesn’t he?” Rose started looking toward the shut chamber door again. “That has to be something. It has to!”

Suddenly, everyone pulled back into reality by one of Severus’s labored cries. Rose instantly gasped, but any attempt to run forward was stopped by Ron’s embrace from behind, thinking he just might have spared her a slap across the cheek from their Head of House. “Oh dear,” Albus muttered, and he rushed back in to the ailing wizard. But Minerva stood firm before the swinging doorway, looking at Rose with a hard face. Ron’s initial fear of physical discipline doubled.

“Miss Beckett, I understand your worry for Severus, but I’m not sure you understand the severity of the situation. You had a relationship with a Hogwarts professor, one of an intimate nature, and willingly! All of these are serious charges that may carry a penalty of expulsion! Words simply cannot describe my disappointment in you, that you would think to do such things. And for what?”

“I love him!” Rose cried, pulling out of Ron’s grasp. “I love him, and I promised I would be here!”

“You think you love him, but we all have made our mistakes.”

“Fuck off!”

The others gasped, appalled that Rose would actually curse at McGonagall. And the elder witch was the most shocked of all. Her hand flew up, poised to slam its back into Rose’s reddened cheek. But something, something that clung to her heart as a teacher, a mother of thousands, stopped her.

“How dare you?” she gasped. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

“You called him a mistake!” Rose responded defensively. “You don’t know anything about us, and you called Severus a mistake!”

“That’s not what I meant, Miss Beckett. What I was trying to say was –,”

“That I didn’t know what I was doing? That he was trying to take advantage of me? Professor McGonagall, I’ve heard all of it before. Severus wouldn’t do that, and I wouldn’t be so stupid. How old do you think I am, twelve?!”

“You are old enough to make your own choices, Miss Beckett,” Minerva ground out. “But you are also old enough to know right and wrong. I thought you were above this. I trusted you with Professor Snape because I thought that you could be trusted to do the right thing.”

“You don’t know anything about me, or Severus,” said Rose. “We did what we did because we wanted to. We made those choices together, and they were right for us. We did it for love – _LOVE for fuck’s sake!_ ”

“Rose, stop this!” Draco shouted as he rushed forward. He grabbed Rose’s shoulder, tugging her so that she faced him half from the side. “Don’t make this worse than it already is. And Severus can probably hear you. Don’t make him listen to you arguing with another professor.”

The words steadily sank in, and Rose stepped shakily out of Draco’s hand. Her instinct to defend suddenly drained away, leaving her feeling helpless and faint. And she could only think of Severus. She thought of him on the other side of that stone wall, writhing with every contraction, fighting to bring his baby into the world. Rose swallowed hard, never wanting to vomit so badly in her life, if only to relieve the agony building in her chest. Her heart was breaking, and her fear was well beyond overwhelming.

“Mister Malfoy is right,” Minerva told her, drawing consciousness back to the present. “Your actions are admirable. But you must now face the consequences of those actions.”

Rose’s chin trembled as she pressed her blue eyes shut, and she sniffled slightly in a failing attempt at control. “You can’t do this to him,” she pleaded, choking against a forming tear and stumbling closer toward Severus’s door. “Please, can’t you do something to help him instead of punishing me?”

Minerva just shook her head, sighing. “I don’t want to punish either of you. I really don’t. But you’ve left me with no options. And I’m sorry to say there is nothing I can do for Severus other than offering my support. I cannot help him anymore than you can, Miss Beckett.”

“ _Don’t say that!_ ” Now Rose was shrieking in desperation. To her friends’ horror, her body shook and her face turned a violent red. “For god’s sake, just let me see him!”

“I’m sorry, but I will not allow it.”

“You heartless witch, can’t you hear him in there?! This is killing him! Let me see him!”

“Rose, calm down!”

Another cry suddenly tore through the air, cutting Harry off, and Rose reacted with a gasp like she had been stabbed in the chest. Her face a reflection of abject horror, it was there that the last strand of composure and restraint, all that had been holding her together, snapped. Crying out, she hurled herself at the chamber door, and her body slammed into the ancient wood with painful force and incredible noise. And she screamed. She screamed and cried with all she could give, beating her fists against the door, pleading anyone to answer.

“ _Severus!! Let me in! Someone please, let me in!!_ ”

**~HP~**

“Breathe Severus, breathe!”

Clinging to the collar of Remus’s shirt, Severus tried so hard to listen to what his friend was saying. But the crushing pain in his stomach was rendering those efforts useless. He couldn’t get proper breath, he couldn’t concentrate, and whatever merciful moments he had between contractions, he lay trembling in anticipation of the next. That was all without mentioning the flinch and whimper that escaped him at the height of every mournful cry that penetrated through the door to his bed. He heard Rose loud and clear, but it was torture of temptation to match his physical pain. Pain of body, pain of mind, pain of heart…

Never had Severus been so consumed by fear, and with no relief in sight, not even in the touch and sounds and faces of his dearest friends.

“Shut the fuck up, Remus,” he ground out. “Breathing…isn’t…working!”

“But you need to keep trying,” said Remus. “I promise, it will help. Just keep trying.” He lowered himself to meet the other wizard’s eye, and he sucked in a great breath through his nose. Severus thought to ignore him, but some force inside him broke through his angry façade, causing him to whimper in a pitiful way he couldn’t bring himself to care about. But Remus didn’t care either. He just kept nudging Severus until they fell back into their intensely forced breathing pattern. When he was allowed to relax again, tears actually started falling down Severus’s face.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he groaned. “It’s too much. Oh god, Remus, help me please!”

“You _can_ do it, mate,” Remus refuted, almost at the point of physically shaking his friend back to senses. He caught Severus’s eye, and he thought he might have gotten past the wall of labour, but that moment was simply a moment, and Severus buried his face into his pillow again. Remus sighed heavily, his eyes trailing up to the door where Rose’s wailing voice continued to carry through.

“There has to be something we can do,” Albus said to Poppy, the two of them standing over the foot of Severus’s bed. It had to have been the four-thousandth time one of them had voiced that concern, each time getting more urgent than the last. “All this distress he’s in, it cannot be normal.”

“You are right, Albus,” said Poppy. “The amount of pain he’s in, he should be well along by now. But last I checked him, he’s still only dilated four centimeters. These contractions are strong, but they are not giving him any progress in this labour.”

“It’s because he’s afraid,” Remus spoke up. He looked toward his two colleagues while he continued to comfort Severus and allow his hands to be crushed. “The contractions have gotten worse and worse so quickly, it’s because he’s panicking, right? If we can help him calm down, shouldn’t that bring him some relief, take some of the pressure off of him and the baby?”

“Yes,” replied Poppy, rather optimistic despite her worry. “And as soon as possible too.” She moved closer to lay her hand on Severus’s abdomen, feeling a contraction slowly releasing its hold on the tense muscles. She actually found that this doing this seemed to comfort Severus, and the lines in his face ebbed slightly as she rubbed gently.

“You hear that, Severus?” You need to relax.” Picking up on Poppy’s subtle actions, Albus also touched Severus on the hot skin of his arm. But Severus glared up at him with his tired dark eyes. “Albus, I can’t!” he snapped. “Every time I try, I’m hit with another bloody contraction.”

“I know, Severus,” the headmaster sympathized. “But you still have those six minutes in between, so you need to make the most with the time we have. My boy, what you need to do is focus.”

“That’s right,” said Poppy. “Don’t pay any attention to what’s going on around you. Just focus on your baby.” She took Remus’s place by Severus’s face, and she lowered her voice until it fell to a hypnotic softness. “Concentrate on your breathing, and look inside yourself. Feel your baby moving downwards, coming closer to being born.”

Severus listened to the Mediwitch intently, but soon he tensed again, grasping his belly, clenching his teeth, and hissing out, “It’s coming again! _Aahh!_ ”

“Focus on me, dear,” Poppy ordered. She held a cool cloth to Severus’s forehead as she spoke. “Remember to breathe, deeply in, slowly out.”

Severus rasped harshly, but no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on nothing but his own body, he could not drown out the sound of Rose’s sobs, and he saw how his companions’ eyes would dart up when they too heard her. He tried to fight it by closing his eyes, but she was still crying out his name. The pain crescendoed, and completely overtaken by the pressure, Severus broke down into a sob of his own. Poppy tried her best to mop away Severus’s tears, and she continued to encourage him verbally. Meanwhile, Albus turned to look toward the door, his face locked in something between frustration and empathy. Remus realized that this expression had not changed since the old man reentered from the main wing, and he had nothing to say about what was said, which could only mean that Rose was becoming a serious problem. But why couldn’t they hear the despair in her voice? Why couldn’t they see the look in Severus’s eyes when it reached his ears?

All of a sudden, everyone’s attention was drawn away when the door began shaking with a number of loud bangs, and there were several biting grunts that came with them. Rose was now attempting to beat her way in.

“Oh, that does it!” Poppy huffed. “Albus, either you talk some sense into that girl, or you send all of them away! I won’t have any more of this nonsense in my infirmary!”

Albus sighed, cradling his forehead in one wrinkled hand. “It’s a difficult situation, Poppy.”

“Yes, a difficult situation that is making another even worse for everyone, especially for Severus and the baby. As long as she’s banging on that door and wailing, he won’t be able to calm down enough to help this labour along.”

“She’s too emotionally disturbed,” Albus refuted. “She has to be if she would speak to Minerva in that way. If I throw her out of here, she’ll only end up back here because you will need to sedate her. No, someone needs to calm her down as well before we can get to the bottom of any of this. Someone needs to calm her before she hurts herself.”

“Then go do it,” pleaded Poppy. “She’s done one of the worst things a student can do, but she’s still our student. And it sounds like she needs a few words of wisdom.”

“Somehow, I doubt that will be of much help right now.” Albus looked back at Severus, knowing that half of his pain was due to his panic over Rose’s fate. He felt sorry for the poor, laboring wizard, but he would not allow him to do that to himself. Yes, it was a difficult situation; trying to penalize two people without laying blame on one. But now it really was time to move away from that, and that included Severus and Rose. Severus gasped one last time as Albus muttered, “I’ll do my best to talk to her. Minerva should be helping here anyway.”

“Albus,” Remus suddenly spoke up. Carefully, he rose from where he had knelt before Severus, and he approached the elder man around the bedpost. “Please, let me talk to her. I might not know Rose as well as others, but I know her well enough to know she’s scared. I’ve seen her do this before…and I think I can help.”

“Remus,” Severus whispered. The werewolf looked down, and he saw a renewed sense of desperation in his friend’s eyes. “Please…”

“It’ll be alright, Severus,” reassured Remus, stroking his hand gently. He then turned his face back to the headmaster, and he pleaded with amber eyes for permission. After what felt like an eternity had passed, Albus finally conceded to Remus’s request, and he stepped out of the way to let the younger man pass. Remus swept past without another word, trying to dismiss the sound of Severus panting in the background. He pushed the chamber door open without a whiff of hesitation.

Rose was down on the floor beside the doorway, apparently shoved out of the way by his entrance. But that barely seemed to register with her because as soon as she lifted her face and saw the wizard standing above her, she scrambled to her feet in a frantic attempt to pass him. Almost by instinct, Remus fell down to the floor, and he grabbed Rose’s shoulders to pull her up into his control.

“Let me go,” Rose howled, struggling against her professor’s grip. “Please let me go!”

“Rose, please, just stop it,” pleaded Hermione, who came sliding in from the side, before Remus’s eye could catch her. She too was on the verge of tears, having exhausted all efforts to bring Rose back to any level of coherency, and she went to touch her friend’s rock hard back. “It’s no use. You can’t get in. For god’s sake, please stop it!” Remus glanced around the room, and for the first time he saw that despondency clung to more than just those by Severus’s bedside. Ron was hovering by the girls, desperate to help, but uselessly frozen by uncertainty. Harry and Draco for once shared the same grave expression, the Gryffindor pacing the floor while the Slytherin had sunk down into an abandoned chair, his arms propping his head pitifully. And just a few feet from Remus, Minerva looked at a loss. He could tell that she wanted to rush over and try to comfort one of her Gryffindor babies, but was held back by the tension of Rose’s sexual deviancy. It could not have been clearer that she had no idea what to do in a situation like this.

“Hermione, please, let me handle this,” said Remus, stern at first, but easing as he went. Hermione looked confused and crestfallen, but she slowly backed off and settled down onto the nearest hospital bed. Remus then craned his neck around to address Minerva. “Albus wants you inside.”

“Remus, are you sure?” the deputy headmistress asked carefully, and Remus nodded. “Yes, it’s okay. Just let me talk to her.” Minerva sighed deeply, and she glanced at the floor as though debating her choices. But then she patted the werewolf’s shoulder, and she disappeared into Severus’s room, closing the door behind her.

“Remus, you’ve got to do something,” Rose begged. “I can’t sit out here and listen to it anymore. I need to be in there.”

“Rose, please, try to settle down.”

“ _No!_ ” The tears started to roll down Rose’s red, raw cheeks again. “I can’t, Remus! _I can’t!_ ” She hunched over slightly, and she fell into a convulsion of sobs. Remus wanted to panic; he couldn’t believe that the girl he had known to stare down the shaft of Lucius Malfoy’s wand was coming completely breaking down in his hands. But that was beside the point now. The others had failed to help her. It was up to him to do what they couldn’t.

“Okay Rose, look at me,” Remus ordered. He gently took Rose underneath her chin, and he angled her wet face up to meet his. “I know it’s not easy, but you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t try. Try to breathe for me. In and out, just like Severus.”

Her eyes popping open, at the mere mention of the Potions master’s name, Rose finally regained some of her senses, and though brutally unstable, she took in a deep breath of air. Remus reached around and touched her upper back, carefully rubbing in circles to encourage a healthy rhythm. “That’s a good girl,” he told her. “Just like that, and you’ll be fine.”

“They won’t let me help him.” Rose croaked. “God, listen to him! Why won’t anyone help him?!”

“We’re doing everything we can, Rose,” said Remus. “But I won’t lie, this labour is hard on him. That’s why the rest of us need to be as calm as possible, so Severus can relax. It’s going to get better.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” Rose’s voice was no more than a forced rasp now, too damaged by her screams and tears. “What’s going to happen if the baby gets hurt, or if Severus loses too much blood? What’s going to stop the worst from happening again?! He can’t lose the baby. I can’t lose _him_. Remus, he’ll die in there, and I’ll never see him again!!” The river of tears flowed once again down Rose’s red face, and she raised a hand to catch them.

Realization suddenly fell on Remus, and he felt his heart sink into his gut. He always had the sense that it was more than pure fear that brought on Rose’s complete emotional breakdown. He also knew that he likely wasn’t the only one to hit upon this. But of all the feelings he had seen afflict her, her courage, her sadness, her joy and rage, her undoing weakness had to be grief. Suddenly, Remus thought of what had happened only days before, how Rose could barely hold herself up before the memorial ceremony in her grief for Dante Macleod. And that was when the word _‘again’_ struck him. Oh mother of mercy, Remus thought to himself. Rose had seen the death her first great love. She was widowed in every way but law. And now she was terrified that she was about to see history repeat itself. But this was not the battle that had once scarred her beyond repair. Severus would safely bring forth his child, and he and Rose could both recover from this, at least if the werewolf professor had a say in anything. Remus felt a rush of protective affection through his body as he stroked away the remainder of Rose’s tears.

This was not going to be another tragedy, for Severus or for Rose.

“Severus is not going to die,” he said with confidence. “Madam Pomfrey is taking great care of him, and you have nothing to fear. And I promise, you will see him again. I know it’s tough for you to just sit here and wait, but it’s only because no one really knows what to do with you right now. And your friends are still here to help you.” He glanced up at the four other students, and they all nodded meekly as they watched, Harry the most affirmative. “I swear to you, Rose. I will find a way for you and Severus to see each other again when the baby is here. But until then, I need you to do something for me.”

“What?” asked Rose, swallowing tightly.

“I need you to stay as calm and quiet as you can. You see, Severus can hear you in there, and some of us believe that all this shouting you’ve done is riling him up and making the contractions worse. I know it’s not much, but doing this will help Severus and the baby. You’re helping them just by being here, and he knows it.”

“Does he?” Rose stared at Remus with a childlike innocence, and Remus smiled weakly at her. Squeezing her shoulder, he said. “He does, and he loves you as much as he did this morning. Now, do you think you’ll be alright?” Rose nodded slowly, and Remus carefully brought both himself and the younger witch up from the floor. Steadying Rose on her feet, he glanced over in Harry’s direction in the middle of the room. “We’re all in for a long night, I wager. So you look after Rose, Hermione, boys.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione muttered with a nod.

“Come on, Rose,” said Ron as he approached. He carefully pried his despairing housemate out of Remus’s hands, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to support her. “Hey Harry, there’s some tea leaves in Madam Pomfrey’s office. You think you could put a pot on?”

“Forget the tea, mate,” Harry said, shaking his head and heading over to the roaring fireplace at the other end of the hall. “You heard Remus; no one’s sleeping anytime soon. I’m making us some coffee.”

“Best idea all day, Potter,” Draco mumbled, holding his head in his hand. “Make it really stiff too, enough to strip the rust off an iron gate.”

The others made some noises of skepticism, almost wondering why they hadn’t thought of it themselves. Even Rose let out a breath of amusement, though she still looked worse for wear. At last, Remus felt alright about leaving these kids alone, that they would take care of each other until this storm had passed, literally and symbolically. Giving one last short nod, assuring himself he had done good, he turned the handle of the birthing chamber door, and he went inside without another word.

“Is everything alright now?” Albus asked when he noticed the werewolf’s reentrance. “It certainly got quieter out there.”

“It’s okay, Albus,” replied Remus. “Rose just had a little bit of a panic attack, but she’ll be okay with some rest. And don’t worry about the kids. I don’t they’ll be going anywhere soon. How’s Severus?”

“Still no change, I’m afraid.” The two of them made their way back over to the bed. Presently, Minerva was sitting on the edge of the mattress, stroking her fingers down the side of Severus’s face and holding his hand as Poppy lifted his sheets over his legs to check his dilation again. Remus took his place back at Severus’s side, pulling up a chair to sit by his head.

“Minerva, would you mind refreshing the water and ice, please?” Remus asked. The witch looked at the empty glass and drying rag on the table beside her, and she nodded with a last touch to Severus’s cheek. When she walked away with the bowl and ice cup in hand, Severus’s foggy eyes drifted back over to Remus, holding when his friend grasped his hand.

“What happened out there, Remus?” he asked in a low, tired voice. “What have you done with them?”

“Don’t worry about it, Severus,” replied Remus. “Everyone just got a little too overwhelmed. But it’s all sorted; you need to keep your focus on the baby.”

“I know…I know.”  The laboring man raised his free hand to his stomach, slowly rubbing as he enjoyed this brief moment between pains. His gaze turned slightly inwards, and he kept his breathing as slow and even as he possibly could. Remus felt his heart sink as he looked at his friend; he was trying so hard to retain control, but it was barely possible when fighting against the alien sensation of birth contractions. Remus had never felt sorrier for the man, especially when he said, “Oh Remus, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“No, don’t even think like that, mate,” Remus refuted. “One way or another, you will get through this. Trust me, I know. Dora said those same things when she was having Teddy, and she made it through. You’ve already done so well, I know you have more strength in you yet.” Severus just rolled his eyes, and he sucked in a breath when he felt Poppy’s hand reaching up inside him. One quick exam later, Poppy smiled.

“Five centimeters, Severus,” she announced. “Very nice, dear, we’re starting to make some progress. Vitals are still good, and the baby is in no distress.”

“You see? You’re halfway there,” said Remus encouragingly. “You can make it, Severus.”

“Quite right,” nodded Poppy. “Now Severus, I know it seems difficult, but I highly recommend that you try to get some sleep. You are going to need your strength for later, after all. Just sleep in between contractions if that is all you can manage. Any little bit will help.” Severus shook his head slightly like the Mediwitch was out of her mind to suggest such a stupid yet brilliant thing, but he relented and relaxed back into his pillow.

Minerva quietly came up beside Remus, and she squeezed all the extra water from the washcloth into the bowl of fresh ice water she held. “Here,” she murmured. “Put it on his forehead.” The werewolf obeyed without a second to spare. Severus let out a long sigh of relief when the chilly wetness fell across the hot skin if his face, and his companions all felt the wave of ease drift over them.

“Oh, and Severus,” Remus whispered. He paused briefly, letting the other wizard catch his breath, but then he leaned in closer to Severus’s ear. “She’s still here.” It took a moment for it to register with Severus, but the instant it did, the weary Potions master turned his dark eyes to his friend’s amber ones.

“She is?” he breathed.

“Yes,” replied Remus. “And she’s not going anywhere until the baby’s here. She’s still here for you, Severus, just like she said.”

Severus sighed again, though this time, the relief was of a deeper level. He and Rose had been physically separated, torn out of each other’s hands, and threatened with all levels of high discipline from his superiors. But yet she was still there waiting for him. It was still a weight on his burdened body to not have her there by his side, but her presence could be felt. Swallowing his pain, Severus tried to imagine the warm feeling of Rose’s body beside him, her beautiful voice whispering in his ear. With those thoughts in his mind, Severus rested his head to the side and let his eyes slide closed to attempt a short nap.

Standing a few feet away from the bed, Albus and Minerva both felt a heavy weight on their shoulders. They had both heard Remus’s little mention, and they knew he was talking about Rose. But neither of them had the heart to reprimand any of them, not after seeing what this had done to Rose’s emotional psyche, and not when Severus was finally resting.

**~HP~**

Two hours dragged by, and the rain continued to beat down on the windows. Thunder and lightning came and went, but the storm never ceased, and it became clear as the light began to fade that it would last long into the night.

Severus did manage to get a few moments’ sleep, but it came only in short bursts before contractions woke him up again. They were coming closer now, close to five minutes apart, and with his body and mind more relaxed, they were becoming naturally stronger. It was now impossible for Severus to stay quiet. If it wasn’t outright shouts, it was growls thought gritted teeth, or aimless swears, or barely buried whimpers. Anything to make the pain go away again. Perspiration dripped down face as his whole body contorted around his huge abdomen, viciously fighting to bring his baby into the world.

Of course, Poppy and the others were close behind. In the time that had passed, the Mediwitch had the laboring man try a number of different positions, hoping to find one comfortable enough to ride out the contractions. But the only one that Severus really found satisfactory was on his hands and knees. So they stuck with it. Kneeling on tense, shaky legs, Severus gripped the mattress tightly, huffing exasperatedly at Minerva’s command.

“Steady Severus,” the old woman intoned. “You are doing beautifully, dear. Just a little while longer.”

“You said that a – _pant_ – an hour ago!” Severus snapped back at her before reverting back to panting. “ _Ah!_ Oh god, I can’t!” Very ungracefully, he collapsed down onto the bed in a splay of limbs, turning onto his side to grasp his belly as the cramp abated.

“Let him rest now,” said Poppy. She approached with the cup of ice chips, and she carefully sprinkled a few onto Severus’s dry tongue. Minerva meanwhile fixed herself at scraping the sweaty tendrils of hair back from his face. And Remus and Albus were stuck shuffling about, looking for anything to do to help. But it was all felt in vain, because five minutes later, Severus was moaning again. Minerva offered her hand to the pain-stricken man. Severus grasped it tightly, and he squeezed through the whole length of the contraction, still groaning all the while.

Albus was nearly sick with worry. Night was already falling, and Severus had been in labour since the night before. Surely, that was too long! And Severus was getting so tired!

“Poppy, are you sure there’s no way we can speed up the labour?” he asked, to which the exasperated Mediwitch responded with, “For the last time, Albus, no. Even if I had the proper potion on hand, the baby has already moved down far enough into Severus’s pelvis. He’ll be entering transition soon, which means we won’t have long to wait. It is the worst stage of labour though, which is why we need to keep up the routine we have now.”

“Don’t fucking talk like I can’t hear you!” Severus suddenly barked out. “Just tell me to my face that this will get worse!”

“It’s going to be alright, dear,” said Minerva. She helped Severus to shift onto his side, and she too moved so that she sat behind his back. “You’re safe, the baby is safe, and it won’t be long before you two meet.”

“Poppy said the heartrate dropped…how can that be? Is there something wrong with my baby?”

Everyone paused unsteadily at those words. Severus had been in the middle of a contraction when Poppy made that observation in one of her many monitoring spells, and no one had the inkling that he had overheard. It was easy to forget in amidst this chaos that Severus was always acutely aware of his surroundings, even in the throes of labour. “Oh Severus,” Poppy said, seizing the chance to correct this mistake and quiet his concern. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I did notice that the baby’s heartbeat slowed when your contractions peaked, but I have been monitoring it closely, and it’s always stayed above dangerous levels. The baby is still tolerating labour well.”

“Then why doesn’t it just come already?” A hot, frustrated tear slipped down Severus’s paled cheek. “For fuck’s sake, do we have to rip it out of me for this to end?!” He then was hit by a new pain, and Severus cried out loud. Albus swept across the floor, and he fell to one knee at his younger colleague’s head.

“Tell me,” he said, using the broad palm of his hand to wipe the sweat from Severus’s forehead. “Tell me what I need to do to make this easier for you. Anything you need, I will make it happen. But please Severus, just tell me.”

Severus heard the headmaster through the fog of his pain, looking at him just as desperately with the deep pools of black in his eyes. There was something he wanted, the one thing he had been denied from the very beginning. But could he even get away with asking? Though afraid of the inevitable, knowing that nothing good would come of it, Severus sucked in a shaky breath, and he whispered, “Rosie…I need her…”

Albus’s face fell almost instantly, and when he looked up at Minerva, he got a mirrored expression. A part of them had once expected such a request, but after nearly six hours in that birthing room, they thought that Severus had himself deemed it better to leave it alone. But now, with the Potions master’s voice bordering on the frail, Albus rose up, and his brow screwed up into a hard wrinkle. “Rosie?”

“Yes…please! I need Rosie!”

“He means Miss Beckett, Albus,” said Remus, like anyone needed to be reminded of that. Gobsmacked, Albus looked back down at Severus, who had returned into himself to cope. Remus watched the old man’s face; he saw grave, desperate concern, but now it was warring with the terrible feelings stirred by Severus’s love for Rose. But before Albus could tell the poor guy no, Remus grabbed his sleeve and quickly took him aside, away from Severus’s range of hearing. Once he was sure his friend was sufficiently distracted, Remus started speaking in a low whisper.

“Albus, please let him see Rose.”

“Remus, I know you mean well, and I wish I could, but I just can’t allow it.”

“But Albus,” Remus pleaded. “Look at him, he’s begging you! When has he ever done that before? We all know that the pain he’s in is just incredible, and he needs all the comfort he can get. Can’t you just let him be with the one person he really wants?”

Albus gave a hard sigh, and he rested his hand on his beard, his fingers almost gripping at the white hair. “Now, don’t you patronize me, boy. I don’t like seeing him like this anymore than you. But I gave my word that I would protect my students. What Severus and Miss Beckett did is something that no one would take lightly, and we can’t enable them to continue.”

“And what about Severus?” asked Remus, his voice tense. “You made that promise before any of this happened, before Rose was even a passing thought to him. I would think that he’s the priority at the moment. And besides, we have done all we can. Rose has known about this pregnancy for nearly as long as we have, and she was there virtually the entire time. She was there through Severus’s every ache, pain, craving, and mood swing. She helped him through it all. I think she above anyone would know how to help him through labour.”

“That may be so, but Remus –,”

“He loves her, Albus!” Albus was struck still with the intensity in Remus’s voice. It was almost like in his wolf mentality was sitting just below the surface, ready to lash out at him. But what struck him more was how he could find no response, and it allowed Remus to continue speaking in what was no a whispered yell. “You know he does. Honestly, would he ask for her if he didn’t remotely care about her? And she loves him too. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be out there, still crying and downing Calming Draughts like water.” Remus stopped briefly, but only to catch his breath, and he was off again in the blink of an eye.

“Please Albus, have a heart. This is the biggest moment in Severus’s life; the birth of his child! He told me once that if he could have his choice of anyone to share this with, he would only choose her. Believe me, they planned that they would be apart for this. But I’ve seen the way they are together, and I always knew they wouldn’t be able to. They need each other, Albus, so let them be together and end all this despair. We can resolve everything else later.”

Albus looked over to the bed at Severus. He hadn’t moved out of his little ball of a fetal position and Poppy was wiping away the layer of sweat that regathered on his face. It was true, he looked at the younger man as a son, especially in this last year, and he really did want to do anything humanly, wizardly possible to help him and his baby. And yes, they were at their limit of their abilities. But could he betray his own word and conscience as headmaster? Allowing Rose Beckett to be by Severus’s side would be condoning their romance. But seeing Severus fight through his pain, hearing Rose lament his misery, he just couldn’t in good conscience make all this worse. And it was this compassion that was the final nail in the coffin.

“Very well,” the headmaster sighed. “I’ll allow Miss Beckett to be in here if she chooses.”

Remus let out a massive breath of relief, and he gripped Albus’s upper arm in thanks. When he turned to rush to the chamber door, the elderly wizard in turn took hold of the younger’s arm. He decided that if this was to be his decision, then he would be the one to hand down the judgment. And besides, Remus had shown enough loyalty to the couple in keeping their secret, never mind being the middle-man these last few hours. If it was truly to be of help to Severus and Rose, for once, it should be coming from someone else. He could see Poppy and Minerva’s disapproving stares from across the room, but this was something that needed to be done. Albus stepped over to the door, and he pulled it open to observe the five young people who were all indeed still there and waiting.

Harry was again furiously pacing the floor, now passing Draco every halfway. Hands shoved in their trouser pockets, they both held expressions that frankly looked exhausting, and the floor was marked by the rubbings of their shoes and the wet specks of dropped coffee from the mug in Harry’s hand. And over on the closest bed, in the rain-battered shadow of the bedside lamp, Rose leaned heavily against Ron’s chest and shoulder, supported by Hermione from behind. The Head Girl rubbed her back, and every now and then, she silently urged Ron to hug Rose’s shoulders for further comfort. Rose herself was quiet, not fighting any of these actions, and though she was no longer hysterical, her eyes were still red and swollen, and she looked completely spent physically and emotionally. An empty potion bottle sat on the nearby table, confirming what Remus had implied about Calming Droughts. And the room was littered with empty teacups and sweets wrappings, showing that the House-elf he had employed was doing a fine job at taking care of their needs, whether they wanted or not.

“Miss Beckett,” Albus said softly. Blue eyes shifted quickly, surprised by the new voice in their space. Rose lifted her face up from Ron’s broad chest, and she looked at the headmaster with an almost confused air. “Oh, Professor Dumbledore,” she mumbled. At the sound of her raw voice, any hesitation Albus had disappeared, He was sure now that this decision was the right thing, and not just for the laboring Severus.

“I’m pleased to see all of you still here at this hour,” he said, addressing all five of them, though still primarily focused on Rose. “Professor Snape will be happy to know that he has loyal friends in you.”

“How is he, Professor?” asked Hermione. It seemed she stole the words from Rose’s lips because the red-haired witch looked at her dumbly, only to turn back to Albus.

“He is doing well,” he told them. “Madam Pomfrey believes that it’s going to be soon. But on that note, I came to have a word with you, Rose…Severus wishes to see you.”

Suddenly, there was a tiny glimmer in Rose’s eyes, and teary surprise emerged from the cloud of crippling exhaustion. “What?” she mewed quietly. “He…he does? But I thought –,”

“We all want to help him,” Albus interrupted. “There have definitely been several clashes in opinion tonight, but I believe we can agree on that. The fact is that we’re approaching seven hours here, and I’m afraid that there isn’t much more we can do. Miss Beckett, I love Severus like a son, and I promised him a long time ago that I would do everything in my power to give him a better life. So in light of this situation, I’ve decided to temporarily ease up on yours.”

Rose’s eyes bloomed as she started to rise to her feet. “You’ll let me in?” You really mean it?”

Albus nodded, trying to withhold a smirk. “Professor McGonagall and I will still have a lot of talking to do about you, but that can wait until after Severus has delivered. And if having you there with him helps him along – _sigh_ – then so be it.”

Rose gasped for air as she walked over, grinning from ear to ear. Her arms stretched out, debating an attempt at hugging the headmaster, and Albus held out his hand for her to accept. “Thank you, sir!” she babbled. “Oh thank you!” As she pulled back, Albus raised his eyebrows and said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Get in there!”

Like she needed to be told twice! Without thinking at all, Rose almost shoved the elderly wizard aside, and she grabbed the door handle, forcing it open like she was bringing down the entire wall. She then rushed inside like a great gust of wind, blowing past Minerva. But she slowed to a halt when she saw Severus.

He was lying on his side in bed, one hand across his massive middle, the other gripping the pillow. His forehead was covered with a light glaze of sweat that matted his hair down to his temples. His eyes were closed as he took slow, deep breaths. Rose had to swallow hard, and tears threatened to once again spill from her eyes. To hear his cries of pain was hard enough, especially after five hours on the other side of a shut door. But to actually see him like this, no matter how prepared she was, it was almost too much to bear. But then she remembered why she was there in the first place; she wanted to be there. She wanted to comfort Severus and she wanted to be by his side for such a huge moment. So for better or for worse, Rose swallowed again. This time, she swallowed all her fears as best she could.

Poppy watched Rose as she brushed by, but the younger witch was not swayed. She approached the bed swiftly, and she fell to her knees before Severus. Like Albus, she gently brushed wet locks of hair out of Severus’s face with the tips of her fingers. Sensing the touch, the Potions master’s eyes drifted open, and when he saw his young lover kneeling before him, they almost immediately lit up.

“Rosie!” he gasped, his hand reaching up to touch her face.

“Hi love,” said Rose, smiling at her pet name. “Dumbledore said you asked for me, so here I am.” Her wizard’s hand rested on her cheek, and Rose sighed to feel it was still warm.

“You came,” murmured Severus. To him, nothing felt better than the softness of Rose’s skin on his rough palm. “You actually came.”

“Of course, I did. I made a promise to you, Sev. I won’t leave you. I’ll be right here the whole way.” She took his hand in hers, kissing it gently.

Severus smiled. “You really are wonderful, you know that?”

“No, I’m not. I just want the best for you.”

“Oh Rosie, I love you.”

“I love you too, Sev.”

Suddenly, Severus’s grip tightened and he clamped his jaw shut, trying to suppress another shout. Rose, now seeing true labor before her eyes, squeezed back. “It’s alright, love. Scream if you want to. I don’t want you to hold back because I’m here.” And with that little notion of permission, Severus let out a tense cry.

“Breathe Severus,” Rose spoke softly. She was visibly shaken now that she was seeing the true extent of the labour, but she retained her calm as she coached. “Remember to keep breathing.” Severus did what he was told, but he couldn’t stop the moaning that escaped his mouth with every exhale. Rose edged closer and placed her hand on Severus’s shoulder. “Oh Sev, I know, I know,” she crooned. She didn’t know, of course, but at a loss of what she could say to make it go away, Rose figured it was a good enough start. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Poppy approaching. She turned her head toward the Mediwitch and asked, “How far along is he?”

“Seven centimeters, Miss Beckett,” Poppy replied. “He’s beginning to enter transition labour now, which means it won’t be long now.”

“Good, very good.” Rose nodded, and then turned her attention back to Severus. With perfect timing, the contraction released its grip on Severus’s body, and the pain began to ebb away. And Rose knew this because she could actually see the muscles in her lover’s stomach relax under the damp fabric of his nightshirt. Severus just wilted, not even attempting to hide his exhaustion from Rose, and the young witch felt her gut twist inside.

“Oh love, you look awful,” she muttered, abandoning her tact for a moment. She returned to stroking Severus’s sweaty face, and Severus opened his eyes to actually look at her with limited coherency. “Not exactly a walk in the park, is it?” he managed to breathe out. “Oh… I’m so hot…”

Remus came up behind Rose with a bowl of cool water. Rose reached back as Severus relaxed out of his curl. She took hold of the cloth that soaked in the water and rung it out. She then gently dabbed it about Severus’s face and neck before letting it rest on his forehead. Severus sighed heavily as he rolled over onto his back. Rose took the chance to get up off the floor, and she sat on the edge of the bed. “The contractions are pretty bad, aren’t they?”

In an instant that gave the most ironic comfort to everyone in the room, Severus angled his black eyes at Rose and glared at her as only he could. That had to be the dumbest thing he had heard her say in all the years he had known her. But it was only an instant, and Severus gave her a small, crooked smile. “Well, let’s just say that they’re worse than they were last night.”

Behind Rose’s back, Minerva’s eyes had gone wide, and Albus had a hand on her arm, bidding her not to interfere. They had been listening to everything said between the couple, and frankly, it was shocking to see their utter lack of discretion. Poppy seemed to be feeling the same way, though she was still trying to maintain her professionalism.

“Did you hear that?” asked Minerva in a hushed voice. “She was with him last night, and we had no idea.”

“I heard her, Minerva,” Albus muttered. “And I don’t like it any more than you do.”

The elderly witch pursed her lips, breathing deeply through her nose in a serious attempt to hold her emotion. “How could we have not noticed this? It was all right in front of us, and we didn’t see it. Albus, how could we let one of our own harm a student right under our noses?”

“It doesn’t look like he’s ever harmed her, not looking at this,” said Albus, nodding at the scene before them. “And I suppose we never noticed because they were clever to hide it. Severus knows how to conceal these things, and as for Miss Beckett, perhaps she’s as clever a liar as he is?”

“Well, if that’s true, how do we know she’s not deceiving Severus?”

Albus shook his head. “I don’t think so, Minerva. We’ve seen far too much emotion from them both. I can’t say for sure, but I feel Beckett’s feelings are genuine.”

“They are,” said Remus defensively. He came to a stop at the side of his superiors, and he too turned his visual attention to Severus and Rose. “Believe me, I’ve been through a lot with the two of them, so I know what I’m saying. There’s no way any of this is false.”

“And whatever this is, it’s working,” said Poppy, joining them while drying her newly washed hands. “Severus is responding to Miss Beckett. That last contraction, he handled the pain better than he has in hours, maybe even since his waters broke. If it’s not her, then I’m at a loss.”

“Indeed,” mused Albus. “It appears that you were right, Remus. This was what Severus needed.” He watched silently as Severus brought Rose’s face to his, their foreheads meeting tenderly despite the moisture of sweat. Rose caressed Severus’s hand to her cheek, and she kissed his pale skin slowly and softly.

“We can’t allow this to continue,” said Minerva. “She shouldn’t even be here, Albus. Whatever are we going to do?”

“We will continue to aid Severus,” the headmaster replied. “And when the baby is finally here, we will be happy with him. There will be a time for decisions later, and it’s high time that we accept that.” At his right side, Remus nodded his agreement.

Throughout this, Severus and Rose remained unaware of the discussion going on behind them, their whole focus devoted completely to each other, making up for the lost time that had dismayed them so.

**~HP~**

“Don’t stop, Sev! Just keep going, keep breathing!”

Sitting up in bed, Severus gasped for air as his muscles contorted within him. Cries escaped with every forced exhale, and he curled in on himself. He also gripped Rose’s hand with such strength as to keep her from disappearing again. But those fears were quite unwarranted; Rose had settled herself right in. Moving from her knees, she had taken a position where she was completely up on the bed, her shoes laying on the floor tucked under the bed. Her robe and tie also lay in a pile there. Her back rested on the headboard, and she let Severus rest against her body in between contractions. And from his place at Severus’s side, Remus saw no discomfort in Rose’s eyes, or in her hand encased in Severus’s.

The contraction ended and Severus eased down onto Rose’s chest, her shoulder becoming his pillow, and his grip on her relaxed. “You’re doing so well, Sev,” said Rose. “How far apart are they now, Remus?”

Remus looked down at his watch. “That was four minutes.”

Poppy came into the room “What was that? Four minutes?” Remus confirmed that to her with a nod. Poppy looked out of the window, observing how the rainy day had turned into a very rainy night. “Alright then, let me just check you.”

Severus groaned, but still spread his legs slightly. Poppy donned a fresh glove and sat down on the end of the bed, lifting the sheets over his legs. She let Severus inhale before her fingers entered his body. Under Rose’s hand, Severus clenched up his face as the Mediwitch conducted her exam. What he didn’t notice however was the odd glare Rose was giving her out of the corner of her eye. In her heightened state of emotion, Rose had become extremely protective of the laboring Potions master, and that extended to her place as his lover. In Rose’s mind, the only woman who could see Severus’s nether regions, let alone stare at, was her! But this was important, she told herself, and she bit her tongue to let Poppy do her work.  After about a minute, she pulled out and disposed of the glove.

“Eight centimeters,” she told them. “Very good, Severus.”

“Bloody terrific,” Severus groaned weakly. “How long have I even been here?”

“It’s half past ten,” Remus answered. “I’d say we’ve been here about eight hours, give or take.”

“That makes it two hours short of twenty-four hours,” said Rose. Feeling the ache in her own stomach, she cradled her lover’s head. Remus watched her carefully, and he noticed the lingering despair in the depths of her blue eyes. The way she clung to Severus showed how scared she was of being separated from him again, but more than that, she was exposed and vulnerable, just like her relationship with the laboring wizard. Twenty-four hours…likely twenty-four of the worst hours of her life. And Remus was still as loyal to her as he was to Severus.

“Poppy, why don’t we let Severus have a moment alone?” he inquired carefully. “I believe we’ve earned a cuppa, don’t you think? Miss Beckett can keep an eye on him for a while.”

“Remus, do you really think that’s a good idea?” asked Poppy. “Minerva and Albus won’t be happy.”

“Forgive me when I say this, Poppy, but it’s not about them right now. Severus will be fine with Rose. It’s not as though they really do anything.” Poppy had to give credit to the werewolf for that; she knew what Severus and Rose were being accused of, but the state Severus was in, the last thing on his mind would be sexual advances. So in spite of her better judgement, she gave a reluctant nod, and she moved toward the door. Remus followed not too far behind, ushering her out gently and slowly closing the door behind them. For the first time in nearly a day, Severus and Rose were alone together.

Rose gently moved out from behind Severus, allowing him to ease onto his left side. As the tired wizard tried to relax, Rose noticed that he was shivering. She reached down to the end of the bed and pulled up an extra blanket. She also inched closer as she laid it over Severus’s tense body, using her body heat to provide extra comfort. Once she tucked him in, she leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“It isn’t fair, Rose,” said Severus.

“What isn’t?” the young witch asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“The pain… Rosie, why does it have to hurt to have a baby?”

Rose let out a weak breath with her unexpected half-smirk, and she tried her best to humor him. “I don’t know. Why does it have to hurt when I menstruate? It’s just the way it is…the way it always was.”

“No sense…no sense at all.” Severus sighed deeply. “I’ll have a whole new respect for women when this is over. How in the name of all that is magic did Molly Weasley do this six times?”

“Aww Sev, you know what they say,” Rose crooned. “If women didn’t ignore the pain or forget about it altogether, then they wouldn’t want any kids and mankind would cease to exist.” She smiled, and she slowly rubbed the tense muscles of her lover’s shoulder. “It’s all worth it, love.”

“Well, I don’t see any worth in this.” said Severus. And just like that, Rose’s heart broke. She chewed her bottom lip, trying to swallow the nausea that had begun to brew in her stomach.

For a moment, there was calm, a silence created by Rose so her lover could have his moment of peace. He faced away from her, lying on his side, and Rose relaxed into the bed behind him. She gently ran her fingers through Severus’s sweaty hair, and Severus listened to her light breaths as he closed his eyes, his own breath slowing to his normal rate. But in no time, Severus gasped, instinctively reaching for Rose’s hand. “Ahh! – Ow!” he moaned. Severus felt Rose’s front rest against his back, and he sensed her hand traveling over his arm for him to take. Severus reached up and gripped her warm, comforting hand with his own.

“Just hang in there, love,” said Rose, gently stroking Severus’s temple. “You’re alright, you’re alright.”

Severus breathed deeply, though shakily, with Rose gently holding him and caressing him until the terrible aches ceased. It might have only been thirty seconds, but to Severus, it may as well have been a whole thirty minutes. He felt someone touch the curve of his stomach. His eyes glanced down and looked upon Rose’s pale, freckle-dusted right hand resting there. Supporting herself from underneath with her left arm, she rested the side of her face on Severus’s arm, and she took in Severus’s heady, overworked, but still enticing scent. Their eyes met when Severus turned his head up to her.

“There is worth in this, Severus,” said Rose. “And it won’t be much longer. You’re already eight centimeters. You’ll be ten before you know it.”

“It could still be hours before then,” the laboring man pointed out. Rose exhaled, almost suppressing a sigh. “That’s true,” she continued. “But you will get there eventually. I for one think that you’ll have the baby by sunrise.” Severus groaned, turning his face back down onto the pillow. A knot formed in Rose’s throat. That was the wrong thing to say. Her arm came up around Severus’s chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean that as a bad thing,” she tried to apologize.

“I know you don’t,” said Severus. “But Rosie, I just want this to be over.”

“I can imagine. You want to have this baby and get it over with. But Sev, you just have to remember that all of this will be over soon. I know it’s hard, but just think of the reward you get for it. Be strong for the baby, Sev.”

_‘The baby…’_

The thought yanked Severus out of the dark fog his mind had descended into. He could hardly believe that in his misery and self-loathing, he had almost forgotten what all this pain was really all for. The moment had come where he stood on the edge of the new life he once feared. A life where Rose never offered him her love. A life where it would be only him and his child. But the dread he earlier expressed to Remus had been left forgotten, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of love and protection for the little being inside him, working as hard as he was to be born. It would be hours yet, but Severus would not give up. He couldn’t let Rose down when she tried so hard to comfort him. He couldn’t disappoint the others when they offered nothing but support. But more than anything, he would not give up when his unborn child needed him.

A little longer…he could hold on a little longer.

**~HP~**

A little more than an hour passed, and Severus was now holding back cries at every pain in his belly. The contractions had unofficially plateaued at three minutes apart, though as far as Severus was concerned, they were pretty much constant. Sweat covered his entire body, and his ebony locks stuck to the sides of his face. And by now, the pressure deep inside him was pressing down on his pelvis that just roared out how close the baby was now. Oh yes, there would be no stopping the screams very soon.

“Focus, Severus,” commanded Rose. “Keep your eyes on Remus, and breathe! Yes, just like that!”

From his place at the foot of the bed, Remus held his index fingers in a cross-like form, and he nodded his head steadily at Rose’s words. “Listen to Rose, mate. You’re doing really well, just keep it up.”

Severus tried to listen to his friends, but their words with nothing but babbled nonsense by now. After all, they had been saying varying versions of the same thing for the last nine hours. But whether it was their encouragement or through sheer instinct, Severus continued his ragged pants, gripping his aching belly and holding back the pained tears rimming his eyes.

“ _Ahhh_ – it hurts!” he yelled. “It hurts, Rose!”

“I know, my love, I know. Oh gods, Sev, just hold on.” Rose gripped her lover’s hand as tightly as he gripped hers, and she pressed a gentle kiss to his hot, wet brow. It had been a long day for her, and it was becoming an even longer night. It was unbearable for her to see Severus in so much pain; she felt like a little piece of her very soul died each time she had to watch him endure a contraction. And nothing in the world could have prepared her for the emotional toll it all would take on her young mind. But no matter how painful it was to witness, Rose never left Severus’s side for even a minute. For all those hours, she was there for him. She was there to hold his hand, to wipe his brow, and to willingly be the recipient of the assault of angry swears that tore out of Severus’s mouth at the peak of each wave. But most of all, she was there to softly whisper _“I love you”_ when Severus needed it the most, and it was this that helped to carry him over to the next reprieve.

“Professor, he needs water,” Rose called out, which quickly summoned Minerva over with a small cup of water. She had reentered the chamber a short while ago, when Poppy assured her and Albus that it was almost time, and now she had reaffirmed her goal to mother Severus like he never knew or expected, uncaring of her student’s presence at his side. Carefully, she held the brim up to the wizard’s lips, and Severus gulped down the liquid like he hadn’t had a drink in days.

Albus stood stoically to the side of the bed, and he held Severus’s knee carefully as he watched Poppy, who was sitting at the end of the mattress and was coaxing Severus to spread his legs apart. He was also quiet as he did so; he still hadn’t quite recovered from the vulgar profanities that Severus had laid on him that made Rose’s earlier quip against Minerva seem elementary. It was an unprompted attack, and it was certainly slighting, But Albus let it roll off his shoulders, knowing it was labour putting words in Severus’s mouth. But he wasn’t keen on it happening again.

Leaning up against Rose’s shoulder, Severus’s breathing was deep as he prepared for the next contraction. But Poppy wanted to check his progress before that happened. Twice in ten minutes had Severus complained of pelvic pressure, and he struggled to stay still, his hips shifting almost involuntarily. There could not have been a clearer sign for the skilled Mediwitch. Pained whimpers escaped the laboring man as Poppy’s gloved hand entered him. When she finally pulled out, a small smile graced her face.

“Severus?” she calmly said as Severus’s deep black eyes slowly shifted to her “I have some good news. You are fully dilated. You’re finally ready to start pushing.”

For a moment, it was as though Severus had not heard her. He simply stared in her direction, no one sure if he actually made eye contact. But then he let out a short breath, and he shook his head slightly, his lips twitching into a half-attempted smirk. The relief was short-lived however, as the next contraction crashed down, and Severus groaned through gritted teeth.

The next several minutes were a complete blur. Poppy was hurriedly prepping her sterile equipment, laying them at the foot of the bed where she could easily reach them. Minerva rushed over to the opposite side of the chamber to the larger wooden cabinet, returning with a heap of clean towels. Remus replenished the cool water for Severus’s face, and then he reclaimed his place at his friend’s left side. Once everything was in place, Poppy instructed Albus and Minerva to stand on either side of Severus’s open legs, bidding them to hold his knees to ensure access to the opening of his birth canal. All the while, Severus held tightly onto Rose’s arm as it wrapped over his heaving chest, grunting against the building pressure in his groin. Rose stroked her fingers over the heated skin of his temples, and Severus leaned into her touch.

No one made any moves to send Rose away. Though duty and conscience held strong, in this moment, Severus’s needs came first.

“Alright Severus,” coached Poppy as she sat down between Severus’s shins, on the edge of the mattress. “Everything is ready, dear. On your next contraction, I want you to take a deep breath and bear down as hard as you can. And try to hold it for as long as you can, alright? Remus, Miss Beckett, be sure to support his body as he pushes. And remember, Severus, if I tell you to stop at any time, it’s crucial that you listen. We don’t want to harm the baby just as they’re coming into the world.”

Severus listened to the barrage of instructions, trying to take in what he needed to do to birth this baby. But then something happened. Poppy’s voice brought him back to the reality of the situation. And this reality caught up with his exhaustion, and together, they brought his mind to a screeching halt. The terrible fear was setting in again.

Severus looked up at Rose, who was still visibly upset, but had regained some sense of composure to give him extra strength. “Rosie…” he mumbled. His voice was soft, but Rose heard him without trouble, and she lowered her face to meet his dark eyes. “Yes Sev?”

“I…I don’t know if I can do this.”

Rose gave a breathy sigh, almost a weak gasp. “Of course you can,” she quietly comforted. “You can do this, I know you can.”

“Oh please, Rosie,” Severus pleaded. “I’m so fucking tired, and…oh gods…it hurts so much.”

“I know. I know, my love.” Rose laid her hand against her lover’s jaw, holding his gaze as she spoke. “I know it hurts. But you’ve got to do this. The baby needs you, and you can’t give up now, not after all this time.”

“She’s right, Severus,” came Albus’s calm voice. Severus looked beyond Rose at the headmaster, who was giving him an encouraging smile as he gently squeezed his knee. “You have been so strong these long hours, so brave! You’ve made us all so proud, hasn’t he, ladies?” Minerva and Poppy both offered their earnest nods of agreement, and Albus even acknowledged Rose with a head bob of his own before continuing. “You’ve made it this far, my boy. Don’t give in to the pain now. You never have before.”

However clouded his mind was, Severus knew that Albus was absolutely right. He had faced worse tortures, even the edge of death, and for fruitless victories that were reaped by all but him. He never surrendered then, and he wouldn’t now. As Rose said, the baby needed him, and Severus now wanted nothing more than to have his child safely born and lying in his arms for him to protect.

A contraction began building up, and Rose slipped out from behind Severus, still holding onto his hand. Remus quickly took some discarded pillows, and he stuffed them behind his friend’s back to fill the space she had left. Poppy observed Severus’s face and the change in his breathing. “Alright dear, get ready,” she said. “Deep breath in…and push!”

Severus gasped in, blowing it out before inhaling deeply and bearing down with all the strength he could muster. He had no idea how he even knew what he was doing, but some sort of primal instinct was guiding him, aiding his body in this abnormal, magically altered birth. He clenched his teeth against the force, and his insides all tensed up together around his stomach. Already, he could vaguely feel something inside him slowly descending.

“That’s it,” Poppy told him. “Just like that, push!”

Remus helped support Severus’s back as he leaned up, and Rose, now devoid of her own distress, kept her eyes on the laboring man’s face as she joined Poppy in verbal coaching. “Come on, Sev. Push, push love!”

For their part, Albus and Minerva alternated between muttering their own encouragements to Severus and glancing down between his knees. They had had some qualms about flagrantly staring at the Potions master’s private regions, but they both realized it would be rather pointless, since Poppy wasn’t batting a single hair at the sight, and especially since Severus couldn’t give a flying fuck what anyone saw of him. Finally, after close to fifteen seconds had passed, Severus let go of the breath, and he leaned back again into the pillows. Rose placed the cloth to his forehead, and Minerva gently rubbed at Severus’s aching leg muscles.

“Good job, Severus,” said Poppy. “The baby is beginning to move down. I need you to push again for me, just like that. Try to sit up a bit more, and curl up around the baby. It will give you more leverage. Ready, and push!”

Once again, Severus lurched up and pushed hard, his face beginning to turn red under the strain. Remus watched him curl around his huge bump, choked grunts escaping thin lips, and the werewolf suddenly found himself shaking his head. “How are you even doing this?” he practically yelped. “You bloody amazing marvel of a man!”

“Fuck off!” growled Severus. “Shut up, Remus!” He held the push for a few seconds longer before letting go again, seeking the relief of the pillow. Again, Poppy gave her positive feedback, and now she allowed him a chance to rest. Panting, Severus turned his face to Rose, and he was rewarded with a kiss to his brow.

**~HP~**

Thirty minutes passed, then forty, and still the baby had yet to make an appearance. Severus was starting to reach the end of his rope, and he shouted out in both pain and frustration that he was no closer to the end of his labour. He was also starting to really hate Poppy.

“That’s it! Come up and push!” she shouted from between his legs. Feeling her hand near his birth opening, Severus leaned up with the support of both Remus and Rose. He pushed yet again, grunting and moaning as he did so. “Keep pushing, Sev!” Rose coached, but Severus shot her with a nasty glare.

“You try doing this sometime, and then tell me to fucking push!” Severus gasped out hard as he fell back again. “ _Aagh_ – I can’t do this!”

“Hang in there, Severus. You’re doing really well,” Remus urged with a steady voice. “Just rest, wait for the next contraction.”

“It’s not stopping…it’s already coming – _aaaahhhh!_ ” Minerva reached over to touch Severus’s arm as he cried out, saying he shouldn’t waste his energy on screaming. But Severus responded by clamping his jaw shut, his chest heaving as he willed away the heavy pain in his stomach, running down to his back and legs. Poppy brought her gloved up to rest on his hardened belly, trying to calm him down. Severus blanched at the sight of blood on her fingertips, and he heard Rose whimper deep in her throat. Tilting his face to the sky, Severus moaned, and he rocked his head from side to side in some sad attempt at self-comfort. “Oh god, help me. Help me, please!”

“Oh no you don’t, Severus,” Albus suddenly interjected. “You’ve got some strength in you yet, I know you do. You need to work with the pain, not fight it. You know what you’ve got to do, boy? You’ve got to do what you do best. You’ve got to get mean. You’ve got to get nasty, don’t hold back! You’ve got to gather all that up in your belly, and PUSH!” The headmaster roared it out like a battle command, and Severus howled as he bore down with all the pain-induced ire that burned in his gut.

“Beautiful, Severus!” Poppy chirped. “Don’t stop, here it comes!” Severus screamed at the top of his lungs, his hand clinging to Rose’s until they both turned white. An intense, hot burn was flaring up below his waist, and he felt a warm trickle of blood seep from the birth canal.

“What’s happening?! Why am I burning?!”

“The baby’s head is crowning!” Poppy told him triumphantly. “Lie back, Severus. Breathe for me, shallow pants, dear.”

Severus did as he was told, but not without great difficulty. Not only was there the searing pain of his genitals slowly being ripped apart, but an awful pressure was building up behind it. Albus and Minerva glanced down, and the headmaster let out a chuckle as his deputy gasped in awe and smiled.

“Oh my, lots of hair,” remarked Poppy, unable to stop the smile that tugged at her lips.

“It has black hair, Severus!” crooned Minerva. The comments by the two elderly witches sparked Remus’s curiosity. He leaned forward over Severus’s body and looked down over the sheet covering his lower half. “Oh Merlin, that’s amazing!” he laughed. “Oh Rose, you have to see this.”

Hearing her name in Remus’s excited declaration, Rose’s first instinct was to go get that first glimpse of the baby. But as quickly as the thought crossed her mind, she was hit with the bloody bullet that was Dumbledore and McGonagall. They had seen too much arleady. They had seen her kiss Severus without care, and they had heard the way she spoke to him. She couldn’t stand to let them watch her stare directly at her lover’s most intimate parts. Rose shrank back, hovering close to Severus’s head. But then suddenly, she heard Albus’s voice. “Go ahead, Miss Beckett. You may look.”

Rose stood still, practically stunned by the elderly man’s permission. But then she shook the sense back into herself and looked across at Remus, who urged her with a dip of his head. Cautiously, Rose moved down the length of the bed, not letting go of Severus’s hand. Once she was close enough, she peeked over his knee and between his legs. She gasped at the sight. Amid the bloody mess, she saw the very top of a little head covered with thick black hair. Poppy had one hand poised to catch it, while the other gently prodded and stretched the strained flesh to help ease out the rest of the head. Rose moved back up to Severus’s head, a grin plastered on her face.

“Oh Sev, I saw it!” she practically squealed. “I saw the baby! It’s already beautiful, and it does have black hair, lots of it! You’re almost there, love!”

Severus tried to smile, but failed as he was hit by another contraction, spiking the already immense pressure. He screamed as he violently clamped down on Rose’s and Remus’s hands, which made both of them yelp with the surprise and pain. “ _Ahhhh!_ Poppy, I have to push! Let me push! _Please!!_ ”

“Yes dear, you can,” Poppy quickly replied. She started to cup her hands around the baby’s emerging crown. “Gently now, we don’t want you to tear. Ready, up now and push!”

Severus then amazed himself again by doing something he thought impossible; he restrained himself from pushing with his full strength, instead listening to Poppy’s soothing voice, carefully guiding him through the pressure and the pain. Tears welled and flowed from his eyes, dripping down the sides if his face to pool around the back of his head. Finally, the baby’s head popped out, making Severus yelp. Albus laughed gleefully, and tears were now freely running down a beaming Minerva’s face. She quickly swept behind Poppy and grabbed one of the folded towels from the nearby table, draping it over her arms, ready to receive the child.

“Alright Severus,” said Poppy. “The head is out. That just leaves the shoulders, dear.”

“This is the hardest part, but it should be very quick. I need you to give me one really good push. Once the shoulders are out, the rest of the baby should just slide out.”

_“NO!!”_

Poppy’s head snapped upward, and she looked at the ailing Potions master with confusion and intense worry. “What do you mean no? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do it!” Severus shrieked, words spilling out like a rush of water. “I just can’t do it! Just make it stop!”

“Focus, Severus,” Minerva directed in her stern teacher’s voice. “You’re almost there, just a few minutes longer.”

“Yes,” Albus agreed hurriedly. “The baby is right there, my boy. Just once more and you’ll have your child.”

“Fuck you all, _I can’t!!_ ” A flood of tears burst from Severus’s eyes, and he crumbled into a fit of hard sobs. All day, all night, twenty-four fucking hours of this, and Severus decided he could finally do no more. Every muscle, every bone in his bone had been drained, and everything ached with all the powers of hell. “Please…just kill me!”

“Severus, look at me!” Rose cried. Severus let his head slack to the side, and he faced his young lower, peering at her through the mist of tears. Once she had his attention, Rose gripped Severus’s hand tightly and stroked his sweat-soaked forehead, speaking with a calm, but broken voice that betrayed her emotion. “Listen to me, Sev. You can’t give up yet. The baby is so close to being born. This is everything you and I have worked for. This is what you worked for before I was ever anything to you. Oh god, Sev, you are the bravest man I’ve ever known. You showed me what true strength is. You believed in me when no one else did, and you gave me hope. I love you, Severus, and I promised you that it would all be alright. I won’t let you give up, not now, not ever! I know you can do this. Give it everything you have, for me, for our baby.”

As Severus listened, everything around him got lost in the desperate words of his girlfriend. He was barely conscious; the world seemed to fade to white, and the only voice to be heard was Rose’s. And for half a moment, Severus could no longer feel the pain. He was back to where this all started, on the edge of darkness with no turning back. But then he remembered Lily’s face, her smile, her promise. He remembered the happiness she foretold for him, and everyday led him here, to the child on the cusp of life and the woman weeping by his side. And it was there he found courage. It was the courage to carry a child to term, and to raise it alone. It was the courage to pursue a love that threatened to undo him. And it was the courage to defy the whole world to have his little family. Rose was right, he could do this.

Severus looked back up at Poppy, and he sucked in a massive breath through his nose. As if his body was waiting for his permission, the next contraction ripped through his body, and Severus screamed out to the air and the people around him. Poppy took the cue and prepared herself. “Come on, Severus! This is it! Bring yourself up, and PUSH!”

Severus pulled himself up by his knees, Rose and Remus supporting his back, and he used the last scraps of strength and energy he had. He pushed down with all his might, thinking only of his child, the one best thing that could have ever happened to him. Every muscle in his body tensed up, and his face contorted horribly, but he didn’t let go until finally, after nearly twenty-five hours, he felt something shift and slip from his body with a wet gush. He then collapsed down onto his pillows and shut his eyes in relief.

The only thing he heard above his own panting was the lusty wail of a newborn babe.

“It’s a girl!” Poppy announced with a jubilant smile, a tear in her eye. As quickly as possible, she suctioned out the baby’s nose and mouth of all blood and other fluids. She then clamped off the umbilical cord, and she cut it with one touch of her scissors. When parent and child were finally separated, Poppy stood up and placed the baby down to rest on top of Severus’s abdomen. Severus finally opened his eyes, blind to his weeping friends, and he looked down at his newborn daughter with an awestruck gasp.

There she was…there was his child. She was everything he could have hoped for and more! Though wet from birth, the hair that covered her head was as black as the night sky, and her skin was completely unmarked. As she cried out for her first breaths, her whole body turned a bright shade of pink, her health apparent. Severus wanted to think this was a dream, that he couldn’t have given life to this beautiful little thing, and from his own body at that! But then he reached up, and he touched her. She was warmer than anything he had ever known as she wriggled on his stomach. It was then that he knew it to be true. This child was real, she was breathing, and she was his.

Very gently, Severus adjusted his arms, and he brought his newborn up to lay on his chest, and he cradled her close to his face. He leaned against Rose, who was now openly sobbing and showering him with kisses. “You did it, Sev!” she said, despite the crying. “You were amazing! Oh god, I love you so much.”  

“You did a great job, Severus,” said Remus, rubbing his friend’s shoulder. He found that his own vision was starting to cloud over with unshed, very happy tears. “Oh mate, look at her. She’s beautiful!”

Severus relished in the words of his loved ones, feeling their outpouring of affection for him. But despite that, his attention was only drawn to his baby girl. He stroked her little head, and gradually, her cries began to calm. It was like she already knew him, had already felt his touch. Only a few minutes old, and this beautiful little girl could already tell that Severus was her father, and Severus felt his heart bond to hers, never to be broken.

He had a daughter…he had a daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your comments and kudos, and make me feel better about taking so long to update.
> 
> Also, a word for any artists who may be reading. If any of you feel inspired to create something inspired by this story, I sure would love to see it. Just give credit to my story, and give me a head's up.
> 
> Many thanks!!!


	81. Little One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, this is a very brief chapter, and I apologize for that. Please see the ending notes for a special notice.

For several minutes, Severus cradled his new baby girl close to his chest, simply enamored by her tiny presence as she whimpered against his body. He could still sense all the others moving around him, but his attention was only focused on the unfamiliar weight of his daughter. It wasn’t until he felt a gentle hand on his arm that his mind came back down to earth, and he looked up to see Minerva standing beside the bed with a towel draped over her forearm.

“What a beautiful girl you have, Severus,” she said gently. “Now let’s just get her cleaned up. Come here, little one.” She covered the baby with the towel, rubbing her delicate skin to wipe away the mess still sticking to her, and soon she was adjusting her hands to lift her up. Severus didn’t want to let go of his child, not when she was crying like this, her arms and legs flailing about desperately. But when he suddenly felt a cramp deep in his abdomen, he was reminded that he had his own body to see to still. Poppy was already warning him about the afterbirth. So with a heavy heart, he slowly allowed Minerva to take his newborn into her arms, and then watched her carry her over to the shallow basket that would serve as their warming table. By his side, Rose stroked the weary wizard’s forehead, kissing his temple affectionately.

“I am so proud of you, Sev,” she said with a sigh. “As long as I live, I’ll never see something so amazing.” She looked over to the other side of the room, completely awestruck by the baby in the basket. “Let’s see a Muggle try and do that.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Rosie,” whispered Severus. After so many hours of hard labour, he was now feeling every toll it took on his body, and he was fighting off the urge to sleep. “You gorgeous girl, I love you so much.”

“Don’t even say that, love. Nobody loves anyone more than I love you.” Rose leaned down to kiss her lover again, and Severus let his eyes drift closed with a sigh.

“Stay with me, Severus,” said Poppy, grasping the Potions master’s knee. “We still need to deliver the afterbirth, and then we can get your baby back to you.” Severus bobbed his head in response. He could feel the drastically dulled contractions, and he felt it as the hot mass of the placenta left his body with one last gush of blood. But his newly brightened eyes stayed on the baby, being fawned over by Minerva and Remus. He smiled as he listened to her whimpers, and he watched when Poppy came over to check the little girl’s vitals and take her weight. Then Severus felt a soft hand on his shoulder, and he noticed Albus standing over him. In the long years he had known the flighty old man, Severus had never seen him smile so warmly. And in that one smile, he knew it had all been worth it.

In the next few minutes, every effort was made to get Severus cleaned up and comfortable. They sponged off his skin, removing as much sweat and blood as they could. They then helped him change into a new, clean nightshirt, and once Rose and Remus supported Severus to his feet, which was not easy with his weak legs reduced to jelly, his soiled sheets were swapped out for fresh ones. Once they got Severus back into bed and tucked under the warmed covers, Poppy approached the bedside, a mewing bundle of blankets in her arms. She carefully laid the baby in the new father’s arms.

“Meet your daughter, Severus,” she muttered happily. “Eighteen inches tall, six pounds, five ounces. She’s a little bit petite, but she’s very healthy. Well done, dear. Congratulations.”

Severus looked down at the swaddled baby; now that he was sitting properly, he couldn’t believe how light she felt in his arms. And now that he held her, her cries and whimpers had quieted. Severus took a moment to stroke the top of her head, her thick, wispy black hair feather-soft against his skin. He touched her smooth face, and he touched her little hands poking out from her blanket. Anything he could to get acquainted with his child.

Then suddenly, the baby opened her eyes, meeting Severus’s gaze for the first time. If Severus wasn’t awestruck by his daughter before, he certainly was now. He sat silent at the sight of those eyes; they were not black, nor the Malfoy gray, but rather a deep and mysterious blue. Severus would always admit his weakness for a woman’s eyes, Lily’s emerald green, and Rose’s bright blue after her. But staring into those little pools of night sky, it was truly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

“Hello…hello Poppet,” he whispered to her, uttering his first words as a father. As he spoke, the little one’s eyes instantly drew to him, peering up at him with the weakened curiosity that befitted a newborn infant. And when their eyes met, she gave a peaceful little coo.

“She knows your voice,” said Rose as she reclaimed her spot by Severus’s pillow, her voice filled with raw wonder. The baby wasn’t startled by the movement, and when she heard the Gryffindor student’s voice, her tiny hands grasped at Rose slowly. Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Looks like she knows yours too,” he said. “After nine months of listening to the two of us, I’m sure we’re all well acquainted.” Rose giggled behind her lips, muttering, “She probably wants to thank me for all the rocking that went on in there.” Very gently, she reached out and touched the baby’s velvet-soft hand. “Hi Sweetheart...” The child reacted to the touch with a tiny sound, and she wrapped her little hand around Rose’s finger. Rose let out a breathy gasp in surprise. “Oh…she has a strong grip.”

“Yes, she’s a little fighter, isn’t she?” said Remus. He approached the side of the bed opposite Rose, and he used his hand on the headboard to prop himself up over Severus. “Just like her daddy.”

Severus angled his eyes up at his friend, a little steely for his present state, but he smiled in appreciation. He felt like he had run the length of the entire world, and he certainly looked like it, no doubt. But through his exhaustion and crushing aches on his body, never had he felt more of a hero than he did now.

Poppy suddenly produced a roll of parchment from her robes, and she leaned it on the flat surface of the bedside table. “So Severus,” she began. “What are you going to call her?”

Severus looked down at his daughter’s face, adjusting how she lay in his arms without disturbing her. He noticed the curious eyes around him as he studied the tiny form. Even Rose was ripe with anticipation, she herself not privy to his child’s potential name. But Severus ignored all of them, wanting nothing to do with their silent attempts at persuasion. He instead focused all his attention on his daughter.

He didn’t name her when she was inside him; his only priority then, with all the troubles that plagued him, had simply been to see her born. Now that she was here, he could see her every feature, every little thing that made up who she was, who she one day could be. In her plump, pink face alone, he could see her entire soul, and just like that, intuition took over.

“Scarlett…” he muttered. “Scarlett Eileen Snape.” Snuggling against his arm, the little girl sighed lightly, and her lips twitched up in a subtle, quick smile. To Severus, it was the greatest sign of approval he could ever receive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> I know all of you were expecting a longer chapter, and have been for some time. I really planned for this to be longer, and I have been working hard to bring you new content, but right now, I’m speaking to you for the saddest of reasons, and that is the news of the passing of Alan Rickman.
> 
> To many, perhaps some of you included, Mr. Rickman was an icon, both of film and theater. He was a literal voice for the ages, and forever the standard for villainy fiction everywhere. But to me, he was more than that. To say he was my favorite actor would be an understatement. Ever since I was a teenager, he was a part of my entire life.
> 
> I remember when I was first introduced to him when we all saw the film of Philosopher’s/Sorcerer’s Stone. I couldn’t place my finger on it then, but something about Alan’s portrayal of Severus Snape was all I really had eyes for, and it was what I went to every Harry Potter movie to see. My curiosity for him spurred me on to seek out more of his films, films I doubt I would have given a passing glance in another life. But I will never regret it, because it opened my eyes to the art of cinema, and I heard stories that needed to be told. Because of Alan, I have Sense and Sensibility and Snow Cake, Die Hard and Prince of Thieves, and even silly little movies like Galaxy Quest. And of course, he and my admiration for him was the greatest inspiration for this story, a story that has given me courage to pursue writing, and brought me to all of you. Without Alan Rickman, I would not be an aspiring writer. 
> 
> All day long, in amongst my frantic thoughts and heavy tears, I have been struggling how I could put into words how much I owed this wonderful man; a man who gave so much to the world, a man who went out of his way for those he cared for. After all, it wasn’t just inspiring new art for me. He shaped who I am now. So to me, it’s more than just losing a great actor. It’s losing a hero. It’s losing family. It’s losing an old friend. And I grieve for it all. Without him, I wouldn’t have had the experiences I’ve had, and I may have ended up in a pretty dark place.
> 
> In my early twenties, I have been plagued with crippling social anxiety, which led to family problems, and more recently, depression. But no matter how bad I felt, no matter what happened in my real life, I had the world in my head to retreat to, and Alan Rickman was always there to make it better. His voice and his presence on screen always made me feel better. He was the stability in a life I wasn’t sure was worth living. And the two times I was lucky enough to see him on stage, I was the happiest I’ve ever been. 
> 
> In 2011, I was lucky enough to see Alan on Broadway when he was in Seminar. Though I was twenty-one at the time, I had never gone on a solo venture into Manhattan with only one friend’s company, and I was scared. I was scared of the people, the environment, and the possibility of the unknown. The triple threat of anxiety, really. But I had the chance to share a space with my idol, and I wasn’t going to pass at that chance. Unfortunately, he didn’t appear at the stage door after the matinee performance, so I wasn’t able to get his autograph on my playbill. But once I heard that he would be signing after the evening show, my mind went on complete autopilot. I was going to get that autograph! I threw out all of my detailed plans for the day, threw my friend and my family for a complete loop, screamed at my parents over my phone in the middle of Time Square, and then proceeded to negotiate my way around the city for the five or six hours left over.
> 
> Then later that night, dressed in a tweet jacket and scarf, Mr. Rickman stood in front of me, signing my playbill. I was overcome with joy and completely star struck, but I managed to thank him and utter a quick little, “You were fantastic!” He looked up at me, smiled, and simply said, “Thank you very much.” And then he was off to the next person, but to be the center of his world for that brief instant, it was indescribable. I still wish he could have known how he helped me overcome my fears that day.
> 
> I don’t know how long I’ll grieve, but I grieve all the same. Even as I write this, I’m crying for the man who gave me so much. This morning, I wasn’t sure where I could go without his presence and influence. But upon reflection, I realized that to stop would be a disservice. And that was why I decided to post today. The chapter was half-finished, but it was a happy moment. And it was inspired by the love I held for Mr. Rickman. In my heart, he will always be Severus Snape, and I will always hear his voice as I finish this story. He will live forever through his work, and our fond memories of him. 
> 
> We love you, Alan. We love you so much, and thank you for everything. Farewell, and love always…

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave your kudos and comments. I haven't posted on AO3 before, and I would sure like to know how I'm doing.


End file.
